This is a place where I will write and RP for the character Rumi from the series K-pop Demon Hunters.
My current writing partner is V and her Zoey (baddestmaknae).
Neither of us (but especially me) have done much Tumblr RP in quite some time, so we are currently winging it privately and doing whatever. My Tumblr RP origins are from highly organized 18/21+ group RPs which did a combo of dash interactions and paras with some minimal experience in private and highly selective independent RP blogs.
If we get serious, we'll have to decide at least what to do about Mira. We've asked a couple of past writing partners so far (no luck yet).
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I don't really do PWP, but please be aware there's a good chance--if the writing gets far enough--there will be adult content including violence and/or sex and/or kink.
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LINKS: Rules (rough) || Biography (rough) || Tag List ||
bodyonbodyimnaughty (companion / resource blog)
Rumi: If I knew it was you, then yes.
Rumi: But I'd spend however long it might take to try to change you back.
Rumi: Worms can't text me silly questions.
Zoey: Rumiiii! It’s just a question! You’re asking more questions instead of answering it…
Rumi: I don't know how to answer the question without more information!
“Would you love me if I were a worm?” - baddestmaknae
Rumi: Wait. Why would you be a worm?
[minutes later...]
Rumi: Did I know you as Zoey the person before you were a worm?
[another minute later...]
Rumi: How would I even know that the worm was you? Did I see you turn into the worm?
I have the most important of questions. Why did soft shell turtles evolve to have soft shells? The one defense turtles have is their shell! Why would they have evolved to not have that defense? How are they not extinct!? This is driving me mad.
That’s indeed a very important question for some of the world’s largest freshwater turtles!
Their shell isn’t their only defense! Their soft, leathery shells along with their streamlined and flat shape helps to reduce drag, making them one of the fastest-swimming turtles! This means they can easily outpace their predators and also hunt better.
Not only that, their adaptation also helps them to quickly bury themselves in sand or mud of riverbeds to hide from predators and ambush prey!
Since there’s no increased threat due to the loss of “protection”, they don’t really have to invest any nutritional energy into growing a hard shell!
And with that, I just added another video to our couch time playlist!
Hell yeah, of course I do! Have you heard about the leatherback turtle (Dermochelys coriacea)? It’s not only the largest of all sea turtles, it also dives the deepest and travels the furthest, migrating across both the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans.
And unlike other sea turtles, it has no scales or hard shell! Its back is covered with rubbery skin and oily flesh, and they supposedly had them since the DINOSAUR ERA. How cool is that?!
And there’s also the African helmeted turtle (Pelomedusa subrufa), which is known for wearing a perpetual grin on its face. It might be small, but it’s mighty. They have been said to drag birds underwater. Guess we gotta watch out for this smiling psychopath, huh?
Celine had resolved long before Rumi could walk that the very last thing she would do was raise a child that was entitled, spoiled, incapable of understanding the consequences of her actions. If she could at all help it. A child with Rumi's...heritage...could not afford this. The world could not afford it.
Discipline and control needed to be etched into Rumi's blood until she breathed them, until they tightly monitored every errant impulse, any potential trait from the part of her that should not exist, from the demonic mark that needed to be purged.
Celine had lived with the mission to banish the demons for good for half of her life at that point. This was merely an extension of that. It wasn't hard to say no to Rumi. Not at all.
When Celine took Rumi to a nearby village to stock up on supplies, there was a moment when Rumi tugged on Celine's shirt. Lightly as if Rumi knew she should not be doing that at all.
"Could we get one of those?" Rumi's voice was a little less soft than normal, full of something like awe.
Celine followed the little finger that pointed until her gaze landed on a pair of horses. The riders looked like tourists, likely ones that had rented the horses for a ride about the island. She couldn't help but laugh softly at the thought of horses on the property that had been devoid of livestock for quite some time.
"No, Rumi. Who would look after it when we are in Seoul?"
Rumi's hand fell back to her side, and a sad look took over her face. "Okay," Rumi said. Something in Celine's chest squeezed harshly.
Rumi would never ask the same question again.
It wasn't hard to say no to Rumi. Just necessary.
Children grew quickly. It seemed every time Celine turned around, Rumi had outgrown more clothing. Celine took Rumi shopping only when needed. She only bought what could be used. Only what was practical. A few select outfits for public appearances. All of it would be obsolete sooner than later.
Rumi would have plenty of time to splurge on outfits when she was in the spotlight as an idol.
Most children had a sweet tooth, surely? Celine kept the treats to a minimum. Proper diet and nutrients were an essential part of growing up and of the rigorous training Rumi was destined to endure. Not enough of the right foods, too much of the wrong ones, this could be disastrous.
"This is okay. Not those."
"Only one."
"Not today."
"No, Rumi."
"No, Rumi."
"No, Rumi, I can't tell you anything more about your father."
"No, Rumi. It's... Please don't call me that. It's Celine. Just Celine."
I can't replace your family.
Before they began training in earnest, Celine would often take Rumi for walks. Frequently down to the graveyard, but also simply to different locations that were in range of Rumi's still quite short legs. Normally along various trails, pathways, or roads. The older and bigger Rumi got, the farther Celine would take her. It was important that Rumi build a connection to the island itself, to the home of the hunters.
The breeze was light, the sun still high in the sky even as it arced toward its eventual sunset. Rumi squatted along the side of the path as she stared at some manner of insect. It was shiny and glinted green against the dull tones of the ground.
"A dung beetle," Celine said.
The light ring of a small bell sounded, accompanied by the rough noises of wheels spinning against dirt and gravel. Celine turned just in time to see a bicyclist fly by. The rider was helmeted and wore a vest for visibility.
"What about one of those? Can we get one?"
Celine looked down at Rumi whose attention had entirely shifted from the beetle to the disappearing tail end of the bicycle. She frowned a little as she thought about a young Rumi roaming the island on a bike of her own. It seemed like an excellent way for a child to get into trouble.
Star Trek, duh! Their uniforms could inspire the fashion trend for next generation goth! Also here's a fun fact, one of the first things I said to Rumi and Mira was, “I am pleased to see that we have differences. May we together become greater than the sum of (all) of us.”.
What instruments do you play? Do you have a favorite?
I can play the keyboard and the drums! I don't have a favorite unless you count my mouth as a musical instrument. Rapping is the way to go, but I can probably do some beatboxing too.
Celine had never wanted children. They were fine when they belonged to others. They were fine when they were young fans. But children could be loud, irritating, ill-behaved. Once you had them, they would consume your life.
With much research and some consulting of acquaintances and colleagues with children, Celine baby-proofed the house. Covers on outlets, oven knob caps. In some article, a suggestion was made that new parents could traverse their residence at the eye level of their soon to be toddler.
That was how Celine could have been seen crawling about the main building of the property on her hands and knees. She noted any items that should be moved or secured, sharp or pointy objects, fragile decorations, furniture that could tip should Rumi prove to be a monkey.
Like any infant, Rumi would cry for food or diaper changes or sometimes for reasons Celine couldn't discern. Fatigue. The need for human contact or affection. A demon baby that needed affection.
With the exception of her infant stage, Rumi wasn't loud at all. In fact, the child was unnervingly quiet much of the time. Celine knew stealth. It was a vital tool to any hunter. But even this young, yet to start training, there almost seemed to be something unnatural about the levels of silence the tiny, purple-haired toddler was able to achieve while moving about.
Never did Celine think she would wish for a child to be noisy.
Not until it took just one moment of inattention for Rumi to simply vanish.
Celine would find Rumi crawling through the chrysanthemums.
Somehow inside the relic from the past that was the long since unused dottongsi, the traditional outdoor toilet.
Spontaneously underfoot like a cat that would have been stepped on if Celine did not have the reflexes of a warrior.
Halfway down the olle, the walled alleyway.
Staring intently at the modern boiler that had replaced the old wood-burning method of operating the ondol, the underfloor heating system.
At wits' end, Celine tried an experiment where she tied bells to Rumi's ankle. Less than half a day later, the bells had disappeared.
Rumi sat in the middle of the living room of the main building. Her feet were bare. Her ankles were bare. The bells were nowhere in sight. Rumi noticed Celine's attention, and her mouth curled into a small smile.
Was this a normal human child occurrence or a descendant-of-a-demon child occurrence? Sometimes it almost seemed as if she had inherited some of the teleportation powers Celine had seen some demons utilize. Popping out of existence in a puff of vile smoke to spontaneously appear elsewhere.
Celine frowned. Rumi's tiny smile faded. Celine let out a sharp breath and walked up to the girl. She leaned over and easily hefted Rumi up. Rumi let out the tiniest of giggles as Celine settled the girl into her side. "Rumi," she said, voice colored with a mix of exasperation and affection. "What am I going to do with you?"
Surely it would get better as Rumi aged and matured.
(And it did.)
(Except sometimes older Rumi would utilize this skill on purpose.)
(Not just for hunting or training but for her own amusement.)
