public shitty announcement ! welcome to ruinvous , founded by a hick named honey from the est , she &. her pronouns preferred , turdwenty . home to terrible writing along with two wh*res for stdiablohqs .
𝑺𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑵𝑬 𝑹𝑯𝑬𝑬 ; nature painting fre*kazoid tht can’t bake but does so anyway , shitro .
𝑨𝑫𝑶𝑵𝑪𝑰𝑨 𝑪𝑨𝑫𝑨𝑽𝑨𝑳 ; ancient card cheating hand with superior fashion sense , shitro .
sickle moon in a sky heavy with nothingness / stifling , choking on the deep and dark chasm . thinks a thunderstorm is approaching ; humidity melding cotton to flesh and bones that hear the call of a heinous beast sheltered in the swollen clouds . oh . . . how lovely , he thinks then —- admires the intimate dichotomy of the monstrous and the beautiful , the unholy and the divine , sacrilege and sanctification . is looking to the looming heavens when ❝ shit —- ❞ chromatic melody as steel falls to concrete and digits hurry to gather the belongings spilled along the broken sidewalk . ❝ sorry . did you drop this ? ❞ neon signs painting azure and fuchsia lattices as he moves to eclipse the crimson stain ( still wet , still taunting ) blemishing a threadbare backpack barely clinging to heavy shoulders so weighted with lethargy .
finger tips now occupy crisp pages belonging to a novel tilted along chin , words captivating her audience like the darkened swirls captivating light above moments ago , she would relive it on canvas later . strawberry milkshake wedged in arm , positioned enough to treat self as desired , whilst rest of limbs would keep various gardening utensils at bay ---- surely focus should have been in front of her , yes , but what do you do when fiction is better than non ? the giggle flowing like belongings along the street is hypocritical as gaze follows bubblegum cascade down concrete , embarrassment blinding as strange hands would pick clutter before her own . millions of sorries were blurted out in hushed tones , cheeks burning like a sun’s summer blaze . ❝ i am so sorry ! pride &. prejudice just gets me every time ---- are you okay ? surely my captivating biceps didn’t get you too bad . ❞ wasted styrofoam is now in grasps as arms extend for the rest , distant but sudden crackles offering unusual comfort in a time of self-beaten foolishness . ❝ thank you for picking up my mess , too , guess i ‘kinda owe you one . or two , if you’re holding me for the beat down i just gave you . ❞
n last but certainly least we have the newest n most terrible muse of mine but im jst so excited idc how many b*bies she may make cry :~) as usual ilysm n im srry pls luv me back noo ur so talented
* ◟ 𝟎𝟏. 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒔 ; mama , we're all full of lies . mama , we're meant for the flies !
gov. name: allgedly adoncia rosamarie cadaval .
actual age: five-hundred-fifty .
birthday: july twenty third .
hometown: n/a .
occupation: professional poker player , current championship holder .
gender: cis woman , female pronouns preferred .
orientation: demisexual , panromantic .
species: original shapeshifter .
height: 152cm , five-foot .
distinguishable marks: multiple deep scars along back torso , small dent from a battle well won .
noticeable habits: manipulation twirling through tongue like air in lungs , smelling candles in the aisles of stores for longer than one would like to admit , interrupting the moment a tone shifts that isn’t for liking , tapping manicure along objects in a fit of impatience , wearing sunglasses inside even when asked to remove them , being able to spot fake accentuates miles away in under a minute’s notice .
typical appearance: well kept no matter the circumstances , flat ironed hair without a stray in sight , business-friendly apparel with runway idea for inspiration , jewelry to compliment not flash , heels are a necessity at all times .
hobbies &. extra bits: making sketchy business decisions under a dim streetlight , playing along with a hand you already wield with an iron fist , constantly shopping for faux rugs to make temporary be permanent , finding gifts for ones you know hold the flames to burn the bridge but sentiment will be your fatality , whiskey turning into the only hydration aged body ever sees , cucumber sandwiches at midnight whilst you listen to it rain .
* ◟ 𝟎𝟐. 𝒅𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒓 ; and right now they're building a coffin your size , mama we're all full of lies .
legends , fairytales , &. nightmares alike form to tell your tale . after centuries you begin to let other lips tell it for soon those ears will be dead whilst yours still ring in its half shell it inhabits . how you’ve longed to feel something again , deadly deeds &. sinister situations don’t get you full but it eases the hunger . feeling as a forever failure as both mother &. wife you seek comfort in the bottles of whiskey , they listen to your sorrows without you speaking while you drown . how you blame yourself for letting pride swallow you then as you swallow it now in heaping amounts . oh how long you cried to the dark to no avail , how the dark soon became you , now you cannot tell it from you anymore . broken beyond repair yet never to be fixed you roam for years on end only for the sake of your family , to make up for wrongs never able to be made right . beauty &. beast intertwine inside as the beast remains dominant , fangs ready to seep into self destruction whenever seems fit . tell me , how can you protect the ones you love when you are what is tearing them apart ?
welcome to my first of two shitros so sadly yes this means u will have 2 relive this more than once pls mail me the medical bills bc i understand how bad this is gnna be 4 u im sorry oh no ur all so hot n talented ilysm yeehaw ....
* ◟ 𝟎𝟏. 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒔 ; you keep eternity , give us the radio . deploy the battery , we're taking back control !
gov. name: serene rhee .
actual age: twenty seven .
birthday: december twenty fifth .
hometown: chicago , illinois .
occupation: freelance artist , soon to be world renowned painter .
gender: cis woman , female pronouns preferred .
orientation: demisexual , panromantic .
species: witch , light arts trained briefly .
height: 165cm , five-foot-five .
distinguishable marks: small nick on right bottom lip , four-inch long scar straight down chest plate .
noticeable habits: excessive story telling with too many webs that confuse the simplest minds , conspiracy theory powerpoints on why the government is hiding information pertaining to alien life forms , wild flower picking for vases scattered around a plant-ridden house , flour thrown over a paint stained table for adventurous culinary arts when one should be sleeping , twirling front ringlets in index fingers while humming old tunes , stopping every time to admire something pretty .
typical appearance: messy waves from waking up thirty minutes prior , the messiest buns on the verge of collapsing , splattered denims with ripped seams , pretty skirts &. frilly tops , random varieties of candy stuffed into pockets .
hobbies &. extra bits: playing video games while more important tasks are to be done , drinking strawberry syrup out of the bottle with no remorse , being fascinated by bugs or leaves with odd shapes , sci-fy movie binges after reality tv stops feeling the same , the color orange being one of the worst enemies .
* ◟ 𝟎𝟐. 𝒅𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒓 ; engage the energy , light up the effigy . no chance to take it slow , by now i'm sure you know !
born to a single mother with sticky fingers meant no place could be home for too long , noses sniffing into her schemes would run her off before the next daybreak with no traces to crawl to . if anything she would have taught you how to not be , a life looking over your shoulder is never a life worth living . a bank robbery gone wrong sent her into a chaotic break that resulted in you being sheltered for three months straight . no outside contact , no looking out the windows , only counting the amount of nails are beaten into poor wood . grip tightened ever so up until your eighth year when karma caught her on gas station security cameras robbing the cashier . you still believed to see the good in her as they hauled you off to some distant relative in a town you couldn’t even remember &. her in the back seat of a blue lit vehicle . the teen years followed you in the blink of an eye , as did a numerous amount of unexplained occurrences too obscure to speak aloud , but art relinquished worry &. restored it to comfort . the unknown would remain that but covered in pretty paints to sell to the highest bidder . it was when sickness suddenly took over your aunt your nineteenth year that things went into a spin . three months after birthday celebrations would you be making funeral arrangements , stumbling across a box in the late’s dresser makes the frenzy roar even louder . the one person hoped to be the holy grail would show up a dead end . how can an inmate disappear from government systems &. into thin air ?
no, i don’t have a “dream job.” i want to spend my days reading and writing and lazing in the afternoon sun. i want to bake bread and brownies and apple crumble. i want to grow my own vegetables and plant a rainbow of flowers. i want to be with nature. i want to be at peace.