Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Mike Driver

Janaina Medeiros
trying on a metaphor
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

@theartofmadeline
NASA

blake kathryn
DEAR READER

titsay
dirt enthusiast
noise dept.
Three Goblin Art
No title available
Today's Document

JBB: An Artblog!
Cosmic Funnies

izzy's playlists!
YOU ARE THE REASON

if i look back, i am lost
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@ipreferhandsome
“I could REFUSE. Let you suffer. After all, You can’t predict my every movement, MISTER Rockwell.”
“ ------ no you couldn't. & i know you pretty well mo. inside & out. “
❛ Only out of pure curiousity— how would you like to reword it, then? I’m afraid incoherent noises don’t usually get your observations across all too well. ❜
“ excuse me miss ------- but watching you walk by nearly broke my neck because you are immaculate & fantastic in a way possibly too attractive for average sight --- you caught my eye & sent my mind somewhere it shouldn’t be. but delights in being in anyway. “ &&& head tilt. “ or in short hand -- YOW ZA. “
&& | ( @ipreferhandsome )
“You dropped that just so you could WATCH ME bend over to pick it up.”
“ ----------------------- yep. “
@ipreferhandsome
“ What would give you THAT idea, hmm ?? ” Cue the BATTING of long lashes && a cheeky grin.
“ you were never the b e s t when it came to the art of SUBTLETY. “
❛ Superb articulation, darling. ❜
“ bigger words aren’t really a requirement for observation -------- i could reword it, if you like d a r l i n g . “
@fewkarats
“ yow --- zA. “
[lays on rock]
“ haven’t changed a ( bit ) have you - doll ? “
/sits on Rock's lap/
“ i’m sensing —————— SOMEONE MISSED ME. “
i feel like giving rock a new theme or like new threads might get him more willing to play on dash, hmm. such an odd boy.
A hand reaches for the flowers. She takes them– hesitant– and she doesn’t even brush his own skin, though with gloves on she would be less– uncomfortable. Now, she’s decent. Alright.
She holds them in the same hand the leashes are looped around, loosely fitted to a thin wrist.
She smiles only briefly at the petals. And one of her dogs is curious, now– it’s Waffles, her littlest prince, caramel, soft and inquisitive. The gentlest of them.
He snuffles the boy’s feet curiously.
“If it wasn’t a trick, then what was it…?”
“ a very unique hello. “ sniffing, snuffling, little huffs. ( p u p p y ) knees return to bent, & the enchanter lays staff flat on the concrete, hands freeing to feel, to pet. studying plushy fur & floppy ears, a pair of them. a friendly, damp nose. corgi. --- he believes. a social one at that. a tag, metal - adorning the stubby canine’s neck. sensitive pads brush, inspect. W - A - ? -- okay, F - no, TWO Fs - L - E - & ...... S a giddy type of chuckle. “ waflles? “
“I feel like a special occasion.”
She smiles, warm, sincere. What an expression– and it is childish, full of all the same wonder that’s been dug up from moments ago. It’s like exhuming the dead, honestly. It’s not too far off from such a thing. She loves flowers. She always has.
“Thank you for understanding,” she says, and raises a single gloved finger to point toward the handful of vivacious blue, “They say what I voice, it seems. –Really, thank you. It’s– a very pretty trick.”
A curious head tilt.
“I’ll take them, please. –Are you out here all on your own?”
Ah, the protective instinct. Constant for anyone below the age of twenty-five, minimum.
( a breath, echo of a chuckle ) “ no ma’am. “ the redcoats would never send their youngest out without protection, without guard - even if it was small. at a distance. it was undoubtedly present. being powerful was handy, but LOVE was a shield that could never truly be taken up even when the battles weren’t truly waging full. “ it’s not a trick, with all respect. & -- would you mind taking them ? “ the hand is still extended, offered. but ALANA seems to have the kindest , quiet movements. &dropping them to the ground is a risk untaken.
“Daniel, like in the den. Lions and such.”
She makes the association to remember the name, and she feels capable again. Logical. She’s finding root– ironically– because this childish Peter Pan wonderment has to dissolve. Leave it to her, though, unsurprising. But what else does one assume from a woman who studies Russian fairytale folklore, of a woman who still feels a tiny thrum of excitement each time Harry Potter wins the quidditch game and feels the happiness he needs for a Patronus.
There’s still wonderment here.
“Do you ordinarily surprise strangers with– peculiar tricks?”
“ no ma’am --- not usually. “ normally it takes a TOUCH, a full touch. fingers, palms. it takes an exchange, it takes a slight slice of time. this was uncommon - to find such BOLD impression within seconds, without a mere brush. perhaps wonderment is balanced on both ends in this conversation. a laugh. & a hand free of flowers twirls a short staff, carved with various intricate patterns. smooth - imprinted. wooden. “ take them, if you wish. “
She’s not sure she’s still standing. She thinks she is. She’s aware that she is once her cane pushes a little further into the ground. Her title suddenly doesn’t sound revolting. In fact, it kind of flushes a little color across her face, and she thinks it’s fitting, beside the flowers.
“My mama’s eyes were that color,” She says softly, a sort of absolute, faint reminiscence to her tone. She hears all else and it sounds– it makes her– itchy, somehow unnerved, “A very cold blue. Mine are the same.”
Her eyes, she means. Transparent. Ice that cracks under your feet.
“I feel suitably stupid. I’m– This is rude of me. I haven’t even asked what your name was.”
She’s too old for folly, much too old for if we shadows have offended Puck-ish folly.
“ i’m sure they’re lovely. “ her eyes, he means. the shift in speech is evident that the impression in blooms is correct, unsurprising. but still the source of a touch of pride. a curve up of lips just so in right corner a whole three seconds before the left follows. “ it’s ( d a n i e l ) --- pleasure. “
She’s absolutely frozen on the spot. He’s so–
Polite.
“Doc–tor– please… –no– always– Alana.”
Her introduction is choppy at best. She watches him with something akin to wonderment. It’s childish, truth be told. Awestricken and sweet. The flowers look obedient and she’s half-poised in step. She feels– confused and yet– not put-off.
“I’m sorry. I don’t– have the hands for them. Are– those… no, they’re not mine. They must– be yours, I think.”
Her eyes flick up. This feels unnervingly fairytale, and that disjoints her.
“I’m Doctor Bloom.”
bloom ( how fitting ) -- how beautiful. lovely. a moment to touch what still sets in grasp, & studying with the tender touch of fingers tips. “ hydrangeas --- a simple flower, the meaning behind them somewhat controversial,though most tend to associate them with heartfelt emotions, with a gratitude of being understood.lavish petals,set a sign of vanity. confidence in colors - various ones, though mostly... blue, usually blue ---- enduring beauty & grace, some symbolize with frigidity, perhaps boastfulness on negative ends ... ( a pause. ) “ doctor bloom, are these yours? “
There are five dogs on one leash, one extension of this little cluster of a pack. They heel accordingly– paws, little and big, click, click, click, and they all fall back for their littlest brother. Waffles never drags behind because the other four don’t allow it. And there she is, this little woman in soft red with leash in one hand, cane in the other.
An accidental brush. It’s enough to tense her– until there are–
Flowers.
“Oh, no, I refuse to believe this. I am definitely medicated.”
She’s speaking only to herself. But baby blues flick up, regard this young man with polite but subdued anxiety.
“How– What can I do.. for you?”
“ that doesn’t seem like something to say to strangers, ma’am -- no offense. “ how many sets are there - two? no four -- wait. click &click. five. there are five sets of four& a single set of three to this group before two steady feet, planted, rooted at the spot. her voice, breathy -- its a storm only set between syllables, below a surface, slightly rippled. rightfully so, he was quite an oddity to most. a DISGRACE to some. WISE to nature. knees bend & fingers find the base of the bunch sprouted at his feet. no pulling, no tugging, it seems to just give for the boy - as if in silence there was a question& a response. upright, steady. “ i believe these are for you. “
like this if you would rp with a muse on here that ISN’T the amazing rock.