🌟
🌟:Do they consider themselves a good person?
Taeil doesn’t prefer to wonder the things involving ‘good’ people and ‘bad’ people, he prefers to be ‘fun’ people.
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Misplaced Lens Cap
occasionally subtle

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@mxtaeil-blog
🌟
🌟:Do they consider themselves a good person?
Taeil doesn’t prefer to wonder the things involving ‘good’ people and ‘bad’ people, he prefers to be ‘fun’ people.
⚔, 💋
⚔: Would your muse kill if they had to in order to protect a loved one?
Taeil has killed before, while it was not for a loved one -which is hardly possible-, if he had one he’d loved, he is sure he would kill for them.
💋: How easily are they tempted?
Taeil is tempted very easily, if he is shown something he may want, he’ll do whatever he can to get it.
Morality Meme
⚖: Has your muse broken the law before? Broken a vow or promise?
⚔: Would your muse kill if they had to in order to protect a loved one?
🌟: Do they consider themselves a good person?
👑: Is your muse honorable?
☯: What do they think of 'good' and 'evil'?
🌹: When would they tell a lie?
🍷: Would they manipulate someone to get what they want?
⛨: What would they sacrifice their life for?
💋: How easily are they tempted?
☽: What is their alignment?
⚠: Would they seek revenge against someone who's harmed them or the people they care about?
open starter // glasses
blinking several times at the blurry intensified world as taeil looked through the glasses he’d loved to wear all too much, he made his way through the city. squinting as he walked, he could make out the large structures through the glasses; such as buildings and cars that sped by honking their horn when he got ever too close to the street...but it was the little things he had troubles with, like street signs and pillars, even people at times.
it was far from a surprise when the young looking boy walked head first right into the pole of a street sign, glasses cracking as he fell back onto his bottom and let out a loud groan.
“HMPH!”
pulling the glasses from his face, taeil let out a loud, dramatic gasp that drew attention from the crowd of people who’d been walking by, his fingers shook and his face went from confused to on the verge of tears.
“My glasses!” he let out with a bit of a yell, trying to see through the shattered lens, his voice cracked. “My...glasses.”
Tears. Taeil was in tears in the middle of a large crowd and it didn’t look like he’d planned on getting up from the sidewalk anytime soon.
♡♡♡♡
ty to everybody that sent me a welcome message!! cx it was very sweet of all of you, i plan on posting a starter soon and i’d love to plot with people :]
♡ taeriel, the little merman ♡
“He was the kind of young man whose handsome face has brought him plenty of success in the past and is now ever-ready for a new encounter, a fresh-experience, always eager to set off into the unknown territory of a little adventure, never taken by surprise because he has worked out everything in advance and is waiting to see what happens, a man who will never overlook any erotic opportunity, whose first glance probes every woman's sensuality, and explores it, without discriminating between his friend's wife and the parlour-maid who opens the door to him. Such men are described with a certain facile contempt as lady-killers, but the term has a nugget of truthful observation in it, for in fact all the passionate instincts of the chase are present in their ceaseless vigilance: the stalking of the prey, the excitement and mental cruelty of the kill. They are constantly on the alert, always ready and willing to follow the trail of an adventure to the very edge of the abyss. They are full of passion all the time, but it is the passion of a gambler rather than a lover, cold, calculating and dangerous. Some are so persistent that their whole lives, long after their youth is spent, are made an eternal adventure by this expectation. Each of their days is resolved into hundreds of small sensual experiences - a look exchanged in passing, a fleeting smile, knees brushing together as a couple sit opposite each other - and the year, in its own turn, dissolves into hundreds of such days in which sensuous experience is the constantly flowing, nourishing, inspiring source of life.”
― Stefan Zweig