noise dept.
ojovivo
@theartofmadeline
titsay
Today's Document
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Cosmic Funnies
đȘŒ
occasionally subtle
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đ©” avery cochrane đ©”
Keni
tannertan36
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KIROKAZE
todays bird
hello vonnie
sheepfilms
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Xuebing Du
seen from Malaysia
seen from Colombia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Ecuador
seen from South Korea
seen from Malaysia
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Malaysia
seen from TĂŒrkiye
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Venezuela
seen from Thailand
seen from TĂŒrkiye
seen from TĂŒrkiye
seen from Colombia
seen from Colombia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Saudi Arabia
@man4flowers-blog
Send a symbol to:
đâ ask my muse to dance đ â pretend to be another muse (specify who) đ â steal a kiss (specify where) đ© â steal part of a costume (specify what) đ· â ask to take a break outside đ â ask my muse to take off their mask â â try to rip my museâs mask off đ· â bring my muse something to eat or drink đ  â ask to sit and talk for a while đ â tell my muse a secret đł â get my muse to tell a secret
[[All three of my muses for FERP masquerade! man4flowers and arcwindsage are my other two.]]
Send a potion to:
đ â make my muse taller for the duration of 1 ask âïž Â â make my muse shorter for 1 ask đ â change my museâs hair to a colour of your choice for 1 ask đ” â change my museâs voice to something you choose for 1 ask (higher, lower, animal noisesâŠ) đœ â give my muse a laguz feature of your choice (or, if laguz already, take one feature of your choice away)
âïž :3
âI⊠guess itâs kinda a good thing your clothes change size due to weird dragon magic or whatever, but do they have to be so⊠small?â
"Do you like octopi? Because I 'ink' you're lovely!"
âMy thanks for your compliment,â Sayâri replied primly, caught off-guard. She looked him down and then up, and then back down to his feet for good measure. So many Ylissean folk did love to dress in blue, and sure enough this trim fellow was one of them - âDo you wish for my aid in a coming battle?â
âSo... um, it wasnât a trade dispute?â Inigo looked at her quizzically. âBecause the girl who told me about all of that was going into, like... extending borders into the sea, and resource partitioning and stuff like that. Some stuff about a trade treaty, and also a super-store?â
He had really stopped paying attention after that, when she started going into monopolizing the market and things along those lines. At last, Inigo realized he had probably been misinformed by a country maiden trying to connect the lines of scraps of news. His first clue should have been that she thought the Ylisse-Plegia war had been both countries teaming up against the burgeoning bandit populations, but heâd written that off as a matter of distance.
âThat... really, really does not sound like a trade dispute,â Inigo was taken aback by the fervor with which Sayâri spoke. âThat sounds like a literal massacre... like, you know, part of the Valmese War. Are... your lobster-trappers really that vindictive, or am I missing something here? Because that sounds a lot worse than it sounded when I heard about it the first time... any countryâs beauty would be marred by such a terrible event, but I hope that, when the wounds heal, itâll be as beautiful as it was before in spite of the scars.â
"You must be real tired by now... 'cause you've been running through my dreams all night."
Delightful. Between Valterâs leering and Innesâs machismo, this was exactly what Eirika needed in her life right now. She gingerly touched the hilt at her waist but didnât wrap her hand around it. Even in self-defense, she hated to use her rapier, and she doubted the stranger meant to hurt her in any case. Besides, it wouldnât do to offend him. She and Ephraim needed all the friends they could get.
âIâm sorry, butâŠI donât believe weâve met.â
âI think itâs more or less the same for me,â Inigo cringed a little. Really, heâd only been on not-battle terms with two wyverns, and they were technically the same wyvern, too. âMy alliesâ wyverns donât seem to like me very much, but, well... I mean, theyâve never outright attacked me. Not like the horses in camp. Animals donât really like me that much to begin with, so Iâve also technically never seen the clever and gentle sides of horses, either, no matter what anyone says about how they behave when Iâm not around.â
đ
âI recognized your voice when you were speaking to the maids serving you dinner,â the man told him plainly,rooting around in his pocket for something, âIâm sure every regular visitor here can match your voice to your face, considering how much loud flirting you do.â When he finally pulled it out and handed it over he said, âI figured youâd want this back; it looks important. If I had waited you mightâve had to wait another week before recovering it; thatâs why I stopped you.â
âN-no!â Inigo exclaimed quietly, totally mortified. His face was a burning red. âI canât ask other real-life people about flirting! T-that would be way too embarrassing! And then theyâd make fun of me... at least books donât make fun of you if youâre really bad at flirting. Besides... most of these books are written by ladies, anyways... see, this oneâs by Eleanor Ducoup, author of the best-selling Make Him Fall For You In A Fortnight. I mean... nobody would buy this stuff if it didnât work, right?â
Inigo cast a pitiful look at the paladin, âLook, um, thanks for returning the book... you wonât tell anybody that itâs mine, will you?â
đ
âWell, there are stories, of course, but one doesnât know whether to believe them or not,â Inigo shrugged with a chuckle and a playful wink. âThere are a great many tales from that era, most of them apocryphal.â
He gave pause as he reconsidered that thought, and then added, âOr apocalyptic. I forget which. Something about a goddess coming down to earth and smiting everyone?? Either way, thereâs supposed to be a great deal of treasure buried at that ruined tower, and Iâm as good a man as any to find out.â
âYou sound quite the storyteller,â Elincia said with a smile, listening to the young man. Treasure seekers at the tavern were not an uncommon sight; if she were to be recognized as the queen, it would probably be her who would be the unexpected visitor that evening. But as it were, she carefully cloaked herself, and made sure that she was not followed. Just another night for her to enjoy herself, a rare evening where she was not holed up in meetings or with papers.
The uncanny similarity of that tale to the truth that she knew - that of Goddess Ashera turning the world to stone - didnât go unnoticed, of course. His was an unfamiliar face, and she couldnât help but wonder where he might have heard this from, if indeed he was making reference to the battle against Ashera. The leaders had ultimately decided to keep this revelation quiet from the public, and had given orders for their subjects to do the same.
Then again, the Tower of Guidance hadnât gone to ruin, per se⊠so maybe this was just a case of mixed-up stories, and she was getting worried for nothing.
âDo you intend to go there yourself, sir?â she asked, her head hooded to hide her identity. âWith such stories surrounding it, it doesnât sound like a place for any normal traveler.â Elincia wasnât too worried, seeing that the stranger seemed to know what he was doing, but it was still her natural inclination to be concerned.
âI donât think Iâm much of a storyteller, more like... a story-repeater,â Inigo laughed a little and rubbed the back of his head, not quite sure how to explain to her that he was, in truth, a stranger from an extremely far-off land where everything about the lost continent of Tellius was merely a legend. âAnd stories and legends change every time theyâre told, so who knows how many different people have told it in between the first time and now?â
In truth, the mercenaryâs entire trip through the continent was based off a shoddily-drawn map heâd picked up in Beignet (Bologna? Bengion? the handwriting was impossible to decipher) and the three ballads he knew by heart. His favorite, of course, being the ever-popular drinking song, âThe Mullet of Ike,â which had some twenty-ish odd verses. After each chorus, you were supposed to take a drink, but by the time they hit the verse where âhe slayed the evil dragon-king and put his head on a pike, and so weâll drink a final drink to the mullet of Ike,â Inigo was quite honestly so drunk that he could barely remember the last twenty verses.
(There was also a much, much raunchier version in which the aforementioned hero laid with a different person at every town, but Inigo had never been allowed to hear it, and anyways, he was hunting legends, not potential descendants. One Priam was plenty.)
As for the other songs... âThe Heronsâ Lamentâ was a Valmese ballet-opera aria, which Inigo remembered solely because heâd learned the dance from a very lovely woman while travelling. âThe Brigade of Dawnâ was a much more popular piece, but usually only performed for special occasions in noble courts. The lyre accompaniment was supposedly very challenging.
âLike I said, Iâm as good a man as any to find out whatâs actually there,â Inigo tried to explain, hoping that he sounded like a mere rumormonger and not a kid from the future going off a mythical legend. âThe tale I heard said that a long-tressed priestess was trapped as the tower collapsed after the battle, and that her lover, a knight with armor as black as the night, held her as the building crushed them, rather than make his escape. The priestessâ wand, in particular, is an item of interest, as thereâs nothing saying where it went afterwards. And I have a friend, you know, whoâs always looking to learn a thing or two about those impenetrable-shield-type people, and maybe if I found a scrap of black armor...â
*shoves soup at you*
Inigo squeaked as he suddenly found a bowl of soup in his hands, trying to avoid dropping it as a bit splashed over the side and burned his thumbs, âW-whatâs this for? Uh, wait, I mean, whatâs the occasion? Itâs not every day a lovely lady gifts me a bowl of soup.â
Vanessa smiled broadly at her friend, and took a seat next to him. âHappy birthday, Inigo! I bring you dinner,â and with a flourish waved a messily wrapped gift at him, âand a present!âÂ
It had taken her a while to find it, but luckily a friend of Syreneâs had noticed the book of puns in a very quiet bookstore. Remembering Inigoâs penchant for bad pickup-lines, sheâd gone to snap it up.
Pleased by the wonderful gesture, Inigo flushed and added, âThank you! I wasnât expecting all this... dinner and a gift and getting to spend time with a friend... um, should I open this now or after the soup?â
He carefully sucked at the side of his scalded thumb and grinned, âIâm sure it tastes even better when itâs actually in a spoon.â
"What do I do on dates, though? Do I bring a toothbrush?"
Vanessa gave the question serious thought, fingers tapping a rhythm on her thigh. âI think it would come in handy! Plus, in a pinch and if youâre prepared, you can use the previously dull end as a dagger.âÂ
Really, if weapons were so frowned upon in nice places, she wouldnât have had to sharpen the end of her toothbrush. But, if Prince Innes was going places without his cadre of knights, without armor, and in her company? She wasnât going to be completely unarmed!
âWellllll, I guess,â Inigo shifted nervously. âI just donât want to look like Iâm expecting a kiss or anything... maybe itâs better to just stay away from foods that have garlic and stuff in them. I donât think I could bear it if someone kissed me just because they thought I was expecting it. But at the same time, you know, I donât want my breath to smell terrible when I talk?? What should I even do?â
Send me âïž for our muses to clothes-swap!
((So the MUN has something to look forward to after work ;3 ))
Roseanne was a place of beauty, of the arts, so it wasn't too unreasonable that Cherche would have gotten her nephew's birthday gift there. "Inigo!" She called out, urging Minerva to land on the luscious grass she noticed said nephew standing on. When they landed she hopped off. "Happy birthday." She hummed, holding out the wrapped box.
âEep!â Inigo squeaked as he scampered out of the way giving Minerva ample space. Still a bit startled by his adoptive auntie-figureâs sudden arrival from the sky, he accepted the box with shaking hands.
âUhm, thank you, Cherche,â Inigo smiled with a bit of a nervous air about him as he attempted to calm his heart from a potentially-murderous wyvern dropping out of the sky. âYou really didnât have to, but⊠thank you.â
He unwrapped the box at the edges, not necessarily neatly but not really capable of mustering the nerves to tear the wrapping apart with Minerva towering over him like an enormous, terrifying other-aunt.
âOh!â he exclaimed with surprise upon looking within. âWhatâs this? I mean, are you sure you mean to give this to me?â
Cherche grinned and then nodded. âNo one else I could think to give them to.â She said in idle before flashing him a smile. Minerva as well letting out a celebratory roar.Â
âUnless, theyâre not satisfactory, I can return them and get something else.â The rider shrugged, she had thought sheâd found a good enough gift, although she wasnât quite a dancer, and she didnât know the brands of shoes, sheâd asked an old time friend to help her in finding something high enough end that wouldnât break her current budget.
"N-no!" Inigo exclaimed, his face reddening at the misunderstanding. "I- I mean, I love them, it's just, you know... I've never owned such a nice pair of dancing shoes before. I'm not as good as my mom, you know, more of a hobbyist than anything, and I'm just not sure I could do the craftsmanship justice..."
Most of the shoes he'd used previously for dancing practices were secondhand pairs he'd had altered to fit him, ones that would suffer little if he accidentally scuffed them during practice or caught one of the bands on a branch. Never before a pair so very close to his actual foot size, much less of clearly high quality.
"I... thank you," Inigo finally managed to say, a beam breaking out on his face. "I'll practice until I'm good enough to use these!"
Patrol | Inigo & Vanessa
dutifulridervanessa
âWell, we can wait a little. And no,â she paused to chuckle, âTack doesnât involve making the horse mad at you, unless you are too rough with them. Itâs just how you put on the saddle, the bridle. Taking care of their coat, hooves.
âBeing a good rider, really.â But, well. She didnât want him to be scared around the horses, not if he was going to be riding them. Horses were intuitive, a fearful rider could make Inigoâs job harder.
âWeâll start with tack. Best to get you familiar with the gear, right?â
âOh, um, okay, so itâs just riding gear,â Inigo nodded along. âI can do that, I think... uh, just to clarify, though, there arenât any actual tacks involved, right? You know... the pointy things you use to pin stuff to walls? Because Iâve had a lot of experience being on the wrong end of those, and Iâm not sure I can handle them without accidentally poking the poor horse in question.â
"Uhm, hi, mom," Inigo stuttered, fidgeting with the basket in his hands. He probably shouldn't be this nervous just talking to his mother, but this was a version of mom who had only just met him. "I was hoping, uh, maybe we could spend some time together? Since I don't know the you from this time very well, and... and I even packed a picnic, if that's okay?"
âOh!â Â Olivia blurted out in surprise, not expecting the boyâs presence. Â She blushed a bit embarrassed that she had done that. Â She nodded her head in response. Â She had been meaning to get to know her son (wow, that was still kind of weird to think about), and now would be the perfect time to do that. Â âI would like that a lot.â Â She gave a warm smile, a blush spreading across her cheeks. Â âWhere should we go?â
man4flowers:
Inigo squeaked with surprise at Oliviaâs sudden reaction, flinching but thankfully maintaining his hold on the basket. Phew, that could have been a disaster.
His following exhale had a note of relief in itâ there was a little tiny part of him that worried that, when he came back in time, his Past Mom would be embarrassed to be related to him. Though, of course, there was still a lot of room for Inigo to mess up, but he was confident (well, at least pretty sure) that she wouldnât disown him. (He hoped.)
âI was thinking, maybe, that clearing we passed on our way here? The, uh, the one fifteen minutes or so from the camp, the one with all the flowers,â Inigo smiled anxiously.
âThat sounds⊠nice.â Olivia responded.  It really did.  She was so happy.  A picnic with her son sounded like a pleasant idea.  The fact that he even wanted to hang out with her was pleasant.  Normally children just wanted to get away from their parents, but the fact that he wanted to get to know her was admirable.
âShall we go then?â Â She said as they began to walk towards the clearing. Â To say she was nervous was an understatement. Â She hoped desperately that she wouldnât mess this up. Â She really did want to get to know her son and how he was raised. Â So far, it seemed like Olivia did a pretty good job for how often she was around.Â
She was looking for the right words to say, giving a bit of an awkward silence between them for a moment, until finally she piped up. Â âSo, how have you been?â Â That was easy enough to ask.
Inigo shuffled along, admiring the scenery as he tried to figure out what he was supposed to say... I mean, you canât exactly buy self-help books about what to say to a past version of your dead mother who hasnât even had you yet. It was somehow more awkward than normal picnics he had with romantic prospects, because in the future, his mom knew everything about him and this version... well, didnât.
The silent void was filled with Inigo wondering what, exactly he was supposed to even say. Clearly, he hadnât thought out this picnic thing very well. That was probably why he jumped a little once Olivia spoke.
âOh, uhm, Iâve been good. I mean, except for the whole war thing, but considering the circumstances, itâs not that bad. And Iâve been practicing lately-- swords, I mean, and thatâs going pretty okay,â Inigo babbled, startled by his mother starting the conversation. He just sort of spoke, and cringed a little when it came out awkwardly. âUh, yeah... good. How about you? War thing notwithstanding, of course.â
âExcuse me, I think you hit me with an arrow here,â Inigo touched his open-shirted chest as he swaggered up to Leonardo, clearly and completely uninjured.
Was this man actually attempting to flirt with him? Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if heâd been mistaken for a woman (which wouldnât have been the first time) or if the stranger was completely and absolutely serious about this.
âExcuse me, but Iâm afraid I did no such thing.â He replied, perhaps a bit sharper than intended, brows furrowing. âBecause if I did, Iâm rather certain youâd be much worse off.â
man4flowers:
âWell then, Sir Leonardo, Iâm very pleased to make your acquaintance,â Inigo bowed, pulling a daisy from the button-hole of his (missing) uppermost button. âAgain, very sorry for the mistake, but the likeness is uncanny.â
Inigo looked up and cast a roguish wink that he hoped looked charming at this Leonardo guy. Perhaps it was just his own fancy, but was that perchance a gaze of perplexion or interest in his mysterious character? Ha⊠perhaps the mysterious stranger thing had some flair to it, after all!
âMayhaps will you allow me to make it up to you by treating you to afternoon tea?â
The flirting was becoming slightly embarassing beyond this point- The mercenary was trying a bit too hard, if he would say so himself, especially judging by the wink. Perhaps even that slight indulgence had been too much. His glare shifted into a bemused frown, an eyebrow raising at the other, before he shook his head.
âI must decline- I do not go out for lunch with people I know nothing of, and frankly, I donât believe weâve met before this.â The blond paused. âAnd either way, a simple apology would be enough to make up for it, and that has already been given.â
Another few seconds of silence, before the archer sighed, then spoke. âWe could, however, start off with a proper introduction.â
âI, er,â Inigo stuttered, looking at Leonardo agape. But that had been the most perfect execution! Like landing a midair twist, it should have earned the appropriate round of applause. What was he supposed to say now?? Heâd had the whole series of Cupid-referenced date line puns, and now heâd been dumped into unknown waters. Inigo bumbled, confused and deflated and totally losing momentum. Oh gods, there was a line for this, uhm, okay...
âI know they said winged Cupid was blind but I didnât think that,â Inigo started, stopping halfway through and correcting himself. âWait, uhm, winged Cupid is painted blind, are you sure youâre not the same guy? Because, uh, clearly you can see that asking you to tea is how Iâd like to know you better?â
Oh gods, that had sounded way better in his head.
âNever mind,â Inigo mumbled, totally embarrassed that he was still decidedly not-smooth. His cheeks were surely aflame, he was so uncomfortably warm. âIâm Inigo, and Iâm an idiot. Iâm just... going to remove myself from your presence before I mess up even more, sorry...âÂ
"I know you're good at REAL magic, but," Inigo rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "Do you know any magic tricks that someone with no magical talent could do? Like with cards or flowers."
  Ricken looked up from his when he heard the barrackâs door creak open. At Inigoâs question, he placed a hand on his chin, staring off into space with a, âHmmmmmâŠ.â
  âI think Iâve read on those beforeâŠ. but I mainly study elemental magic,â That ârealâ magic the mercenary spoke of before, âIâm not so sure.â He gave Inigo a shrug.
âSsssso... thatâs a no?â Inigo asked, disappointed. âI was hoping to impress people by pulling out flowers from my sleeves, but alas! It wasnât meant to be. Thanks anyways, though...â
That would have been so awesome, being able to pull an infinite amount of flowers from his sleeves or vest or something. That was like, free pick-up lines central! Inigo mourned the loss of his one hope of learning non-magic-magic.
âAlas, my chances of getting a date,â he dramatized out loud. âI hardly knew ye.â
đ
âI recognized your voice when you were speaking to the maids serving you dinner,â the man told him plainly,rooting around in his pocket for something, âIâm sure every regular visitor here can match your voice to your face, considering how much loud flirting you do.â When he finally pulled it out and handed it over he said, âI figured youâd want this back; it looks important. If I had waited you mightâve had to wait another week before recovering it; thatâs why I stopped you.â
âUhm. Thatâs not,â Inigo tried to lie that the book titled A Nice Guyâs Guide to Getting the Girl wasnât actually his, but he was never a particularly great liar. âAre you sure you found that at my table? Because that definitely, certainly isnât mine. I donât need advice books or anything to get the girl... maybe you have the wrong table??â
As annoying as it would be to lose the money heâd spent to buy the book, it would be utterly mortifying if he had to actually admit that it was his. Oh well, it wasnât as if anything in there ever worked...
