missing pieces. @rekant - Tumblr Blog

an independent rp blog for some original characters, written by dana. 25+, they/them. carrd. prompts.

rules under the cut.

@rekant: i can't seem to remember if it's today, two days from now, or yesterday. / eden + freddie

"eden—may i call you eden? or would you prefer brandt in the copy? personally i find nom de plumes to be a—distracting element." annoying, she means. "how can we trust our projects to be truthful if we, ourselves, are not?"

what we want from the truth is also an aspect of the truth. you can fill a front page—or your stomach—with an argument like that. makes it the easiest thing in the world to sleep at night. eden might not know it, but their name alone is enough to write an article on. or four.

but before anything can be misconstrued, quick like a previous page click-back, "not saying you're a liar, of course."

freddie clicks her tongue, part charm and part mirror. checking her teeth for any undesirables, including sharpness. not all pages can stand the tear.

"what i am saying is that i've been waiting for your call since friday."

rekant

sure, yeah. let's argue about truth with freddie lounds. schedule's clear enough for the day.

"you thinking i'm full of shit does not make it so." it would have gone this way with any journalist. snide posturing just gets us there a little quicker. "just lets me know you're not as good as you think you are at cutting your way through tangled wires."

they light a cigarette. it's before noon, and they look like they haven't slept. fate's heavy hand has pushed them to where they stand. despite their protests, their legs carry them.

"but i guess in your neck of the woods, being full of shit doesn't make a difference, as long as people believe you."

#bluedprints #* eden.#well well well!

CHARACTER ASSOCIATIONS: ALMA.

repost & fill in the words you most associate with your character.

animal: cat.

color: seafoam green.

month: may.

season: winter/the windiest months.

song: deep green — marika hackman.

number: ???

day or night: day.

plant: thyme. heather.

smell: herbs, smoke, fish.

astrological sign: cancer.

element: water.

food: roast meat. stringy meat stew. porridge.

drink: tea.

tagged by stole <3 tagging youm

@rekant

and on the eighth day, god created the m-train.

hania doesn't know which one it is—tinnitus or wishful thinking—but some pressure sets down between her eyes when she's underground like this. or maybe further back, tucked behind the back of her brain like a stray piece of hair.

so her mind sways one way and her body another. shoulder pressed to shoulder, the movement passes telepathically through the entire carriage, rehearsed choreography, everyone's swaying and everyone's feeling a little strange in the head. break and whine, jolt and back again. the movement reminds her of creation.

"dooon't go. come to mine."

which is nowhere, these days, and it's not even a real day yet, just the bleak in-between. these days hania is backpacking, if her tote counts as a backpack. she has one arm threaded through each loop so it juts out from her back like a—jesus—the plate off the back of a dinosaur, and hits whoever sits close.

the train starts to screech towards a stop again, and panic hits because the countdown has started.

"don't go."

rekant

she doesn't want to go home, either.

let her stay in the middle, where things are worthwhile. where no one's made a decision either way, and she doesn't have to think about it.

it all churns around her. veil thin, but very much intact. she spends so much time trying to claw her way through, that it doesn't make sense to try anymore. traingoers blur as they leave, replaced by doppelgangers lo doesn't look too hard at.

"maybe."

but they need to get off the train, or they'll be here for another — well, hard to tell, when you can't see the sun.

"i need to charge my camera. it died a while back."

#* lo.#bluedprints

connell-waldrn

Renate Reinsve in Sentimental Value (2025) dir. Joachim Trier Academy Award Nominee for Best Actress in a Leading Role

#greene‚ b.#if she was baby.. what then

lifeforms

"you know i don't smoke."

there's a decent chance bunny's never even seen her eat processed food.

"i have asthma."

she absolutely doesn't. she runs two miles every morning. she's just hoping she'll put it out, though this lie has never worked before.

"i think i'm allergic, maybe."

rekant

"did i know that. i might have known that."

she probably knew that.

"i know you don't have asthma, though. you don't have anything." possibly untrue. but, this is lana lang we're talking about. "not even allergies."

#lifeforms #* bunny.

bruisedpenny

alright, that's about enough. roscoe edges his way into the tiny bathroom and shuts the cabinet, not checking first to see if he catches bunny's fingers or not. collateral damage.

"bunny. fuck off. this isn't nearly as endearing as you clearly think it is."

rekant

"it's exactly as endearing as i think it is."

he doesn't get her. she's too quick. but half-sober, she almost wishes he'd managed it.

her combat boots give her a few inches on him. when she crowds him against the wall (which is, like, eighty percent of the room we're dealing with here), she thanks her lucky stars for picking platforms.

"you're so mad. why're you so mad."

#bruisedpenny #* bunny.#i did genuinely think she might've grown out of this #but apparently. we persist

jupiterfree

"know what?!"

rekant

"you know."

#jupiterfree #* bunny.#giving him a stress headache

jupiterfree

again, more serious,

"why wouldn't I?"

rekant

"oh, you know."

#jupiterfree #* bunny.

bruisedpenny

@rekant bunny said, "what, you scared?"

sometimes, not always, but sometimes, bunny's perceived nonchalance can snag at pash like a hangnail. pash loves her, yeah yeah yeah, but sometimes she feels the need to tap her glass and make sure she's still alive in there.

"always a little. it's what keeps my feet on the ground." the hard sell of her situation. pash speeds to feel the gravel spatter, to keep her on solid ground. her love affair with substances has never been about escaping anything. "what's the last thing that scared you?"

rekant

bunny doesn't quite feel fear the way she should. if danger's coming at her, she doesn't register it. if it's in the shape of a big scary man, she chases it. it isn't until someone else is in the crossfire until the warning lights start flashing. and even then.

"uh."