romaβ
Today's Document
ojovivo
Origami Around
Kaledo Art
Stranger Things
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@theartofmadeline
AnasAbdin
Discoholic πͺ©
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titsay
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
d e v o n
sheepfilms
occasionally subtle
noise dept.
No title available
No title available
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
seen from Vietnam
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from Brazil
seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Belgium
seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Canada
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
@reverdies
R E V E R D I E S .
Low activity selective multimuse ft. characters from historical periods: classic literature, period dramas, & original characters.
Run by Levi - they/them - 40.
DRAFTS: 40
carrd | mobile: rules & muses memes opens list of regency-compatible muses headcanons + muse birthdays usfw blog
Cosette waited carefully, hand outstretched, and was clearly delighted as the kitten leaned into her touch, gently scratching between it's ears with a soft coo. She hoped it would come to her. Goodness, she wanted a friend.
Her attention was so solely on the kitten that she didn't notice her papa's return, focusing on the kitten as it froze. She tilted her head to the side, confused, only to look up and give a bit of a start. "Oh!" she said softly, laughing as the kitten crept under her skirts but still looking uo at her father almost bashfully, apologetically... hopefully.
She bit her lip as she looked up at him, frowning slightly, before giving a small smile. "Papa, I believe you may have scared my new friend." She tried to find the kitten in the folds of her skirts. "We were just meeting one another," she explained, giving a giggle as she saw a little lump moving beneath her skirts
Nothing about this should surprise him. Between his knowledge of her nature and his own influence, encouraging compassion for the poor and downtrodden, why should not a young girl extend such logic to animals? Who was to say he might not have followed suit, if not for the specific worries that plagued him?
Which led to an expression less grave than he might have presented, any reservations not directed at either Cosette or her young charge. It wasnβt so much that the pet itself would cause problems, but that their circumstance could not guarantee the stability it deserved.
In the moment, however, he abandoned caution. It was often thus with Cosette. With utmost caution he crouched down at a distance. βWhen you find your friend again, I would like to meet himβ¦ or her?β His voice, rough in quality but soft in nature, might be enough to entice it from her skirts.
Ever-growing to-do list of OCs to develop:
Brother and sister (twins?) on opposite sides of aliens vs humans
... witchfinder? But this guy kinda just wants to be the next incarnation of another OC, so. Alternately, could be an ex-witch with the zealotry of the convert? And/or hypocritical cowardice of same persecuting same?
Moishe Campbell (counting him bc we only know he's a hunter and probably has a Jewish connection somehow)
So the thing you have to understand about doctor who the movie 1996 is that it isn't good. But it is the best film ever made. It has little to no outstanding qualities as a narrative and is such a wild read of doctor who that if you replaced a few proper nouns throughout it would just be a regular bad sci-fi movie. The fact the series survived it is the reason i'm not worried about canon or the shows future in the slightest. The pitch for it consists of some of the most insane lore retcons i've ever seen in my life, and the only major one to make it into the movie is generally considered so out of left field that people refuse to acknowledge it to this day. Literally nothing matters. The master is goo and also a lizard, seven gets gunned down in the street, paul mcgann is the first doctor to canonically get bitches. There's a motorcycle chase. Bad 90s cgi. the regeneration is a frankenstein reference. its camp. eight has his dogs out. it is somehow more american than you would expect. it features by far the best rendition of the main theme in the shows history. Who fucking cares man. 11/10
The scarf now covering her face found itself doing double-duty; a filter that was almost certainly prudent, and now a disguise for the way her cheeks pulled inward, nipped between back teeth to subdue a smile. "I mean, I'm guessing." Thera completed her walk around the Police Box and drew up beside him, eyes above the scarf now a shade apologetic. She didn't especially enjoy raining on the Doctor's parade, but, "I like to check off ordinary things first."
Be a spoilsport, he might say, and it was possible they'd discover this wasn't some plain, logical answer after all. But as she followed him into the TARDIS, she was glad to be taking a look anyway.
"On the other hand," Added as the doors closed, sealing whatever was happening or about to happen safely outside, "you said the TARDIS sometimes puts you where you need to be." Like, say, at a London Frost Fair just a little while ago, "And the same sort of thing happens to me. So this really could go either way."
No stranger to having his parade rained onβin fact, why he tended not to travel alone, whether he admitted it or notβ the Doctor was nevertheless inclined to keep a mind open to all possibilities. That was how heβd succeeded in surviving for as long as he had, the ability to stay flexible. Think on his feet. Land on his feet, catlike, if you will.
But another part of him didnβt particularly want to be wrong, at least not with an audience. How long theyβd been acquainted didnβt matter as much as it might for some; that had long been true for him. He simply cared more than was prudent.
Once surrounded by the safety of the TARDIS he could think more sharply. Gather data, check his own. He peered at the consoleβs buttons until a subtle beep alerted him to the results. βTrueβ¦ true,β the Doctor agreed, with half a misplaced smile for the callback. βAnd often itβs a bit of both. Important dates in history tend to invite interference from all sorts.β The sparkle in his eye didnβt exclude himself, though he did count his intentions good.
That out of the way, he leaned over the console to consult some readings, twiddle some knobs; resulting in a frown. βOh, now sheβs just trying to be funnyβ¦ not the time, old girl. I was aiming for Crete and considerably earlier. Not Santorini during one of the biggest volcanic eruptions this world will ever see.β He shook his head with a sigh. βBut youβre right. I was just hoping otherwise. Iβve had too many close calls with volcanoes already.β
In the Context of Ancient Ritual Sacrifices
Heroically rescues the virgin sacrifice with style and charm:
Also rescues the sacrifice, but gives the sacrifice a thorough scolding about managing to get into this frightful pickle in the process:
Sneaks in disguised as the cult leader, throws back their hood, and gleefully sics the eldritch spirit that was summoned on the cult, before also rescuing the sacrifice. All persons involved think they're way scarier than the thing that appeared in the circle:
Still have marks from being chained to that marble slab:
[ x ] + @reverdies
Even though they sat at the same table, their lifetimes were thousands of years apart.Β
She was no longer the Master he knew--not only from the passage of time but the drums and then lack thereof once again. Too much to explain, and too much the Doctor wasn't allowed to know. It was only the early days, and he had so much more ahead of him that she couldn't interfere with.
Her hand curled around the stem of her wine glass, resisting the urge to reach out to him. Maybe he'd accept her again, rekindle the friendship she still didn't know when they lost. It'd be nice to have his friendship again, even if it was only with this him.Β
"No." Missy took a long sip and then lowered her glass, glancing up at him. "It's not worth hiding it behind alcohol, is it?"Β
He knew enough to sense the weight of fate's thread hanging between them; even that thread was enough to forgive why she wasn't more forthcoming. Part of his inescapable identity as a Time Lord left him all too aware of the Web of Time and which threads on which one could and couldn't pull.
So he didn't begrudge her an air of mystery, though it did nothing to quench his curiosity. He'd never (to his admittedly bad memory) known her as her; it could mean nothing, or just be a bit of harmless and understandable rebellion; but the echoes of their Academy days still wanted to ask about it.
"No," he agreed. It just made voicing feelings easier. Or prompting extremely embarrassing dance moves. Nothing in between. "And I do. Miss you, that is." For better or worse, the words hung in the air, nothing between them, not even a wine glass.
I added a link to my pinned post listing the muses that are most conducive to setting in the Regency era, whether because they're there already or have an AU verse prepared. I hope it will be helpful for those that have muses in that era, give you more variety to choose from (as much as I do like Lord Debling!)
Thinking about seven and ace again, thinking about the trauma of growing up on gallifrey, of running away and making a better life for yourself and then running into a kid who you see so much of yourself in, who had a bad home life and is destructive and chaotic and refuses to follow rules she sees as stupid, and taking her in and letting her run away with you, showing her the universe, preparing her to survive the planet you had to run away from so she can unlock the freedom you have, the freedom to explore the universe and be herself and find her own home just like you did
She let out a laughing huff, shoulders lifting in a shrug. "Well, I can prob'ly manage if you don't piss me off." Nicole tucked her hands in her pockets, falling into easy step beside him. She wouldn't go so far as to say she liked him... but the man had tenacity and humor and spending time with him wasn't a chore. If anything, it tended to be fascinating.
Anyway, she was serious until he gave her reason not to be. Nicole wasn't naive. She only felt so comfortable following a man to his home because she was fairly sure she could take him, if it came to that. (And, because she didn't think it would.)
"Where'd'you live?"
A twinkle in his eye almost looked like self-reflection. "I shall endeavor not to do so," he offered with raised brows. He wasn't quite sure how he'd let himself get roped into this yet again, when his heart still ached from the last time. It just seemed asking for trouble to so neatly repeat a pattern.
But he'd done it, and a line from Shakespeare kept nosing aroundβ something about love and loss. But maybe it wouldn't come to that. (And maybe he was in denial.) With hands clasped behind him, he sought out the TARDIS's last location.
"That's... difficult to answer. How are you with wonder?"
Good Morning from the Cove Tundra
(viacarad1016)
Thera was always a visitor in a church. She could mind her manners, but it might be noted here and there that she didn't especially join in. She'd bob in a curtsy or faint echo of a bow before the symbols of the Lord, show respect, but that was all it would be; good manner in someone else's house. She didn't partake in wafer or wine, or allow a laying on of hands, and did her best to avoid situations where that might be expected.
That applied no matter how welcoming the parish might be, how open and friendly the cleric in charge. That was why, despite her acquaintance and growing regard for Vicar Hughes, she hadn't yet attended any of his sermons. It wasn't anything personal against him, but she quietly hoped he hadn't noticed.
Instead she called by at 'unofficial' times. Not secretive in a way that might arouse gossip (although a few whispers would scatter nonetheless) but outside 'working hours', when Barnaby's duties were more akin to his hobbies; tidying, maintaining and, as it turned out, tending to the library. For Thera, inhaling the scent of books was closer to sacrament than any rite performed in the church itself.
"Have you, now?" The small curve of her lips and the arching of her brows conveyed quite clearly that yes she would like to see, and invited him to lead on. "I'd be intersted to know where some of those came from ..."
Certain details were easier to miss than others. Every peak and valley of a rare fungus, each strand of a shorebirdβs feather, captured his attention without effort. As vicar, however, he was keenly aware that his duty included monitoring his flock. Since his wifeβs death, he had taken up the slack she had carried, tracing the latest with his parishioners. To ensure his keenness he thought of them as birds to be studied. That wasnβt needed to inspire feeling, just to ingrain details in his mind.
Knowing his flock meant that he recognized new faces, too. He had noticed her absence from more official gatherings but felt more curiosity than offense, though if he brought it up, it could straddle both impressions. The bishop and indeed the archdeacon were not here to critique, so Vicar Hughesβ reaction was natural to him. Pleased to share what he could with someone willing to help with his most unusual project.
He also enjoyed being able to speak of that project without unleashing a full explanation. Right or wrong, it confirmed him in his decision, and he moved along the shelves until he found the telltale volume to activate the secret passage. It was nothing dramatic, but did keep the extra room safe from prying eyes. Depressing a bookβs spine triggered an opening forming in the books. The vicar glanced back at Thera. βSome were acquired as part of someoneβs collection but youβre right to think most have a story behind them. After all, they cannot be thrown about willy-nilly like some other books. They must end up in hands that understand them.β
With this preface Mr. Hughes ducked his tall frame under the small opening, broaching the next room. It was lit with the faint glow of phosphorus, enhanced by the lantern he knew to bring along. βAs you see, it would take years to catalog. I know where everything is, but if I were to be indisposed, as has happened...β He trailed off, unable to answer the very question heβd raised.
I wish we could like... mark IMs as unread like you can with most email systems. The amount of times I've read a message and either gone 'I'll reply later' or 'I think I did reply' and it turns out I did not in fact reply... chat, it's embarrassing.
Love how the Henry Higgins tag is pretty evenly split between the Pygmalion/My Fair Lady character and a constable from 1900s Toronto. Not sure who that's more favorable or surprising for, but anyway. He's often shown with the best friend he's in love with, so. Happy pride month to (constable) Henry Higgins.
The last ever season of Grantchester starts this Sunday (weirdly just for us Americans, I think?) I'm cautiously hopeful because the previous season was pretty good but Leonard was still their favorite punching bag, so... fingers crossed.
Post-Seine depression beard for Javert...
It's my birthday and I'm facing the necessity of changing the age on my pinned post.
And for something marginally more fun, I'll be getting my ears pierced. I've resisted for years (obviously) but I've finally gotten over the feeling that it inherently comes with gender attached, so I'm going for it!
