da✧°˖ hi everyone! hope you’re having a great time. here is a small masterlist of resources that can be very useful / will make your rp life easier. theme code, psd, promo template and other things. hope it will help you ♥ ( updated 06.07 )
theme code
( complex )
agirlingrey / here & here.
atanepita / here.
awokenhope / here & here & here .& here.
descarriado / here.
ddkinzart / here & here & here.
iniziare / here & here & here.
cryoconquer / here.
A PRIVATE MULTIMUSE WRITING BLOG. including original and canon characters from overwatch, star wars, jurassic world, dc universe, marvel, the last of us, assassin’s creed, mass effect, and more. loved and developed by YUMI.
Song Eunseo is one of several geneticists for the park’s creation lab, viewed through a thick industrial glass within the innovation center; incubators, cryogenic freezers and molecular diagnostics equipment are sterilized and displayed for the visitors. Most of the people in scrubs and powdered gloves are just the assistants, paid interns. Goldless glitter. Smoke and mirrors. There is a false door set into the wall of Henry Wu’s office, concealed and secured by a serial key interface; these secret rooms are only accessible by senior geneticists and InGen personnel privileged with security codes.
Owen balances his flute glass over the flat top of the balustrade. He is trying to decide if he should engage in the conversation she attempts to start. Song lingers under the open door frame, teetering between the crowded room, and the quieter veranda. Like himself, she doesn’t appear to be particularly invested in the festivities.
“I’m here for business.” It isn’t the answer to her question, but at least he’s indulging her. Owen smiles, polite, practiced, but pointedly unpatronizing. “By the way you’re knockin’ those back, I’m guessin’ you’re here for the opposite.”
Here for the opposite. Eunseo wouldn’t be in attendance in the first place, but a phone call had insisted. Enough of work; arbitrary re-examinations, consulting with the heads of other projects, sticking her nose in work beyond her pay-grade ( Wu had caught her sniffing as soon as he received notification of the breach, but let her go in light of what has happened; it had been pity in his eyes then, with a little reproach ). “Maybe so.” Because these are her kind of people, and there’s always talk about personal contributions to the academe regardless of sobriety.
“Ai-ya.”
The flute glass in her hand disappears, followed by the sound of a tongue clicking in disapproval. Eunseo slides her eyes to the side and finds her mother. Choi Yuna stands in a simple evening gown, dark as the lingering shadows in the corners. Her eyes are gentle, at least. Understanding. Or trying to ( as is her way ).
“You haven’t eaten dinner yet, Eunseo-ya,” her mother remarks, stowing her beloved wine on a passing server’s tray. “I’d advise waiting until then.”
There’s an itch that rises in her stomach. To leave. Or spend the rest of the evening in the women’s bathroom, nursing a glass until it was time for the family to go. Her throat tightens, and something in her eyes sting. She shouldn’t have gone. Eunseo looks at Owen then, and her mouth opens a little. Despite the urge to flee, there is protocol. “Owen, this is my mother, Dr. Choi Yuna. Eomma, this is Owen Grady,” she says, putting a hand on her mother’s arm. The turbulence in her belly makes the gesture feel artificial. “From work.”
daily routine keeps the raptor’s focus sharp. patience has her standing stationary, gaze fixated upon the door, awaiting the imminent arrival of their handler. twenty-seven minutes, exactly. the others roughhouse in the background, creating momentary chaos until a vaguely familiar, yet strange, scent wafts through the room. attention leaves the task at hand, bird-like mannerisms ring true as she cocks her head to the side in curiosity. it isn’t feeding time. she knows that. yet the hatch has been opened. had there been the scent of food, the others would have approached, instead they continue unfazed by the noise.
blue, however, is quick to move towards the screen. there’s only a few chirps of cautious curiosity before her muzzle is against the screen, pressing hard to get a better look at the angle.
A smile spreads wide across her face when Blue approaches. Such a tiny thing. As sharp and as deadly, still. Her assignment to the research regarding the raptors is entirely Wu’s idea. Needed more people on it —— and given the controversy with bringing any sort of carnivore back, Eunseo can’t simply pass up the opportunity to observe their development. Blue chirps, edging nearer against the screen.
“Hello,” Eunseo greets in a small voice. For a second, she worries if the lavender perfume she’s wearing is overpowering, given the distance. “Sorry, it’s not Owen, but I’ll be here until he arrives. Is that okay?” It’s a dinosaur. A young one. The whole system of language, its semantics and syntax, is lost entirely on her. She knows that; it’s the tone that she’s trying to send across: not a threat. Hopefully it translates? ( Mental note to reread Owen’s notes; highlight the auditory responses. )
Owen alternates between staring at the microbubbles in his champagne, to the open path that bleeds directly into an empty balcony; the steel-framed glass doors are closed, and city lights shimmer through the crystalline panes. The convention room is warm and golden, like amber, a living superorganism of leisure and luxury. Wealthy, bejeweled patrons smile and exchange idle conversations. Owen is a bear in people’s clothes, gunmetal grey suit, navy-blue tie; the material feels tighter around his biceps, as he moves.
A few long, easy strides, and he would be prying the doors open, stepping outside, the wind whipping at the collar of his blazer, as he sharply tosses the contents of his flute glass over the marble baluster. He watches it fall, pale and twinkling, down, and down, and——–
And who’s looking after the raptors while you’re gone? Owen tenses, turns, and blinks. He recognizes her voice, because he can’t quite help himself. It’s hardly personal. Details just tend to stick, like burrs in his head. “Song,” he sounds mildly surprised, wary, but not unkind. “…right?”
“Quite right,” she replies. A clap of laughter on the other side of the room, followed by a chorus of chuckles, steals her attention for a second. There’s people she recognizes. Some tip their glasses to her, and she raises hers in reply, of course. It’s only polite. She spots her brothers nearby, talking up certain people. Building their own networks, improving on their mother’s connections. Her mind can’t keep up with how fast their mouths seem to be moving.
Eunseo empties her glass then; reaches for a new one as a server passes by with a full tray. Turning back to Owen, she asks, “Did you come here with anyone?”
There’s something strange about the way they crashed. A tiny, simple detail that shouldn’t have been. The oxygen masks didn’t fall. At first, she was willing to lend credence to false memory, because those do occur. But when she trekked back to the wreckage to crack open more luggages for resources, there were no dangling yellow masks. Just the makeshift grave they made for the flight attendant and a few unopened Louis Vuitton luggages.
She and Owen had come across an empty campsite near a geese lake on their first day. Tons of film equipment. Five tents, three bedrolls. One pot. A campfire with cold ashes.
Two days, they waited. Owen made a makeshift shelter from sticks and leaves while she tried to help as much as she was able to ( but it’s mostly her looking at the correspondence of the building process as how Owen does it with the instructions on the survival guide —— one she had borrowed from the campsite ). There were people, but none of the kind either of them expected.
She saw it first. Eunseo had been fetching water from the lake that time —— midday, just after lunch. Skin stretched out like rubber. Sickly. Ragged breathing. Slashes of paint across its face. Its mouth looked more like a cave than a mouth. Yellowed, jagged teeth. Black gums. A club fashioned from human bones in its hand. She had nothing but the iron pot. It regards her almost curiously. Her hand cramps from holding the grip too tightly.
She remembers wanting to throw it at the creature, right at its head.
It didn’t even run when Owen turned up from fishing on the other side of the lake. Didn’t react so much as tilt its head when he blocks her frame with his body, a crafted spear held ready in his hands. A warped yell, perhaps from one of its own, drew the creature away from them and into the treeline. Owen asked if she was alright, and she could only look at him.
They didn’t bother to wonder about the specifics: whoever set up that camp weren’t survivors, but they also were probably not coming back.
So, there they stand, at the crash site. Eunseo looks at what’s left of the cabin. “We only found one body——her. The flight attendant, and——this is the second half of the plane. The tail end. Chances of surviving that…” She looks at the empty chairs, then at him. “We can’t be the only ones.” The campsite. “How long do you think those campers——” Too many missing pieces. None of this felt natural; the air is pulsating with such wrongness she could feel her marrow burn. “Are they even here, still? We need, we need to find them. Follow one of it.”
There is alarm in his eyes. By the whites of them. “ No, no, bad idea. ”
“I’m not saying we approach it and its—— friends. They might have taken people. Those campers or some of us.” She wrings a hand around her wrist. “We’ll know more about them, anyway. How they live. And the island, too. We’ll know something. We just need to keep our distance.”
the sitch: my laptop is having these moments where the screen would flicker for a second and the screen would split itself into four the next minute. i ran a diagnostics check and there doesn’t seem to be any major problems; im still going to have it looked at this weekend.
i also only just finished my summer semester last friday !! i can definitely dedicate more time to my drafts and establishing quite a number of blogs in the following weeks. they will be slow, considering my laptop’s health, but they will be there. in addition, if you’d like to plot, my IMs and discord are always available to mutuals.
She spots him among an unlikely crowd. In an even unlikelier backdrop ( “They really went all out this year,” her mother had remarked, eyeing the chandeliers and golden-threaded curtains ). The champagne glass in his hand is still full. Talking to no one. She can approach, perhaps? They’re... civil. Work on the same project. Eunseo monitors the logs, reads his reports; he imprints on them, feeds them, plays with them. Trains them. He gets to interact with them, while at most Eunseo can only observe through the one-way glass in the observation panel.
“And who’s looking after the raptors while you’re gone?” is her manner of approaching, already on her third glass. Makes it easier to tolerate the noise of the dining hall; less likely for her to bolt.
HEY GUYS ! it’s coming to that two-month mark where i’m going to need to come up with another 100$ USD to pay another phone bill. which is due august 6th 2018. as of right now, i have roughly 30$ USD to my name, which i’ve reserved for emergency meals / necessities ( ie. shampoo / soap / toothpaste / etc. ) so, in order to pay the bi-monthly phone bill again, i’m reopening my commissions again. here is a list of the things i offer, previous examples available upon request !
MOBILE HEADERS ranging from 5 $ USD
PROMOS ranging from 8 - 10 $ USD ( could be cheaper if you request a single panel )
ICON LABOR ranging from 10 - ??? depending on amount and complexity. what does this mean ? if you have the screencaps / psd / style available, i’ll make your icons for you and batch them up for you ! i know a lot of people don’t have time to sit down and make icons individually, so i’m here for that ! i’m not currently selling icon psds / not working with psds created by other commissioners ( they need to be your own ) so that will not be included.
SCREENCAPPING, prices dependent upon length of movies / episodes.
AESTHETIC POSTS, ranging from 5 - 10 $ USD depending on complexity.
these commissions will be completed through paypal only. if you’re wondering, in depth, the situation i’m dealing with right now: i’m currently trying to move out of an abusive environment, in between jobs, and desperately need a cellphone as any other sources of communication with those looking to help me out of this situation has been cut off as of today. in addition, while i do have a roof over my head in this environment, i am being forced to find my own food / clothes / necessities. the only reason my phone bill hasn’t been cut off is due to the money i can put together through these commissions, so i’m eternally grateful for those who reblog this post / signal boost / purchase rp graphics from me. ADDITIONALLY, IF YOU SIMPLY WISH TO DONATE TO MY PAYPAL / BUY ME A KOFI, HERE ARE THE RESPECTIVE LINKS ( X ) AND ( X ). i ask in advanced that you respect my personal information that is released with the dropping of these links, and i thank anyone and everyone in advanced for helping me keep my head afloat !
TAGGED BY: @chaordiic luv u <3
TAGGING: @tinyavenger / @interstel, @deathwent, @valhela, @gentlenatured, @din0genetics, @luckyystrap, + anyone else who wants to do this !!
🐱- what are they afraid of 🌼- what calms them down 😑- what makes them angry
symbol headcanons // accepting.
a. eunseo has an extremely low fear instinct. so low, it might not even exist. this is specifically in the context that a situation ( or something inside of it ) poses harm to her. otherwise, there is one thing she fears that she can name: losing the integrity of her work. it’s the last thing she has. after the deaths of her family, there isn’t anything conceivable that can make her blink. not the eventual heat death of the universe, nor total societal collapse. someone with essentially nonexistent self-preservation skills will look death in the eye and maybe spit on it.
b. grounding exercises. eunseo is easily set off by loud environments, especially if it’s a closed environment. she has to talk to someone or at least specifically search someone else’s voice out just so it can serve as an anchor ( she listens, but only enough that she isn’t experiencing derealization ). if there isn’t anyone, she will listen to music. thinking of certain images ( the feeling of a strong breeze on her skin, the sounds of waves crashing themselves against rocks, the endless expanse of blue ocean ) help her a lot, as well as remembering how something felt against her skin, like coarse rice grains and the smooth of her palm.
c. incompetence, mostly. but it’s not the red-hot type of wrath; it takes a lot to anger someone so hardened. perhaps not being able to do anything, or not being allowed to do anything. direct, explicit removals of her agency. realizing the illusion of the choices she’s been given. policing her desires, her rage; exploitation of her energy. it’s things that mainly concern her identity as a woman and as a person of color that will set her off.
breathable. eunseo is athletic: wakes up at the crack of dawn to run around the worker’s village, attends gym classes; favors cardiovascular and core-oriented workouts. not so much strength training. athleisure clothing is a staple in her wardrobe. she tries to avoid fast fashion whenever possible, and frequents visiting stores like UNIQLO who are honest ( or at least try to be ) with their projects on sustainability vis-à-vis social responsibility.
she likes loose clothing, wide pants, skirts. has long preferred them before working in costa rica, on the island. eunseo enjoys the comfort of sneakers and appreciates the style offered by wearing heels. she is long-limbed and lithe. has graceful lines. there’s a general aesthetic of airiness and smoothness; she knows what works for her figure and what doesn’t.
🚐- If they have any mental illnesses and what they are
symbol headcanons // accepting.
simply, no: eunseo’s bereavement of both her husband and child ( within months of each other ) is ——it’s not something anyone should experience. i think, with what i’ve learned in my courses and what i’ve established for her character so far: it would qualify her for a mood disorder, most likely. and i found that while she did have grief-related depressive episodes, she didn’t meet the criteria for any of the mood disorders currently listed because of the context subtleties that differentiate grief from a major depressive episode.
romaincrisis
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titsay
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theartofmadeline
tangentwithtanner
andulkaphoto
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