❀ B I G ❀ F U N ❀

Here’s how it goes, it’s about who you know. If you got money, you get in for free. { indie ocs } [written by Logan]

[survivaltalent-blog]

kerosenelozenge:

     “ uh-oh. that’s no good. ” spoken as though extraneous sensory organs were the same as a stain on his shirt, or a piece of food between his teeth. six of krou’ahz’s eight eyes roll back and close, melting into his complexion.

     “ is that better? ”

he wants to not watch but his gaze is pulled to the action like it always is when millie does anything like it. the rolling in his stomach gets worse but he manages a very small upturn of his lips.

“yep. very human.”

[survivaltalent-blog]

( @kerosenelozenge | just bc. )

“you have too many eyes,” he says with a casual tone that implies he’s seen this before. already he can feel the nausea pooling in his stomach.

[survivaltalent-blog]

empathicstars:

   The truth must be admitted here, now, for we writers must be impartial to those muses whose lives we dictate – Aella is not completely paying attention to April. It means nothing negative on the other, she simply keeps working, as she always had. She has always seemed to work doubly for any time she has missed, and now is no different. 

   Until she hears the words. Will I ever get over feeling like an outsider? 

   Now, there is nothing she is doing but paying attention.

   She cannot see her PADD – cannot see the paper beneath her. She can see nothing but that word over and over. Outsider, outsider, outsider. 

   Too many answers. Too little, too. Too much to say, and nothing at all.

   Aella opens her mouth and says nothing at all. One measure, two. Three, four. Minutes pass, and she is just standing there, as though frozen.

   Finally… “I will find a way to return you home.” 

she waits, because by this point in their friendship she’s used to aella becoming lost in herself. she turns back to look at her, arms still crossed though she’s seemed to relax some. it’s odd, watching her like this, because april’s sure there is something she doesn’t know about that’s causing this, but she knows if she were to ask, she would get no answer.

when she finally speaks, april’s face falls and so do her arms, a cold shock of fear shooting through her.

“no, i don’t... i don’t want to go back. i just want to feel more normal.”

[bonewitchery]

rpmemesfam:

✧  THE CRUCIBLE PROMPTS. 

some are considered to be triggering and/or offensive at times. please reblog/read with caution.

❝ I lie and sign myself to lies!  ❞

❝ I cannot have another in my life!   ❞

❝ I am not worth the dust on the feet of them you have hanged!  ❞

❝ How may I live without my name? ❞

❝ I have given you my soul; leave me my name! ❞

❝ _______, your justice would freeze beer. ❞

❝  If you wish to sit up, then sit up. ❞

❝ I wish to go to bed. ❞

❝ Speak man, we cannot releant.  ❞

❝ You are commanded by the court. ❞

❝ I will cut off my hand before I reach for you again.  ❞

❝ Answer my question! Is your husband/wife an adulterer? ❞

❝ I have confessed it! ❞

❝ Can you make out who she/he/they may be? ❞

❝ You must be mistaken my child.  ❞

❝ The wife/husband of a minister be unlikely… ❞

❝ Satan may reach anyone sir/ma'am. ❞

❝ Absolutely no one in the world is safe?  ❞

❝ Is that your meaning? ❞

❝ You are mistaken child. Understand me? ❞

❝  I, sir, am innocent to a witch.  ❞

❝ I know not what a witch is.  ❞

❝ If you know not what a witch is, how do you know you are not one? ❞

❝ It is not on a boat we’ll meet again, but in hell. ❞

❝ You bring down heaven and raise up a whore!  ❞

❝ Why did Goody Proctor discharge you from her service? ❞

❝ My name is good in the village!  ❞

❝ You cannot arrest me for contempt of a hearing. ❞

❝ I will have you arrested for contempt of court.  ❞

❝ Show them a stony heart and sink them with it! ❞

❝ Why are you doing this? ❞

❝ You drank blood. Did you tell him/her/them that? ❞

❝ Don’t you ever say that again! ❞

❝ You drank a charm to kill ______! ❞

❝ I can make you wish you had never seen the sun go down! ❞

❝ This will not pass. Can you prove this?  ❞

❝ In what time? What place? ❞

❝ Shut up! All of you.  ❞

❝ I will come to you in the black of some terrible night. ❞

❝ I have seen some reddish work done at night.  ❞

❝ I will bring with me a pointy reckoning that will shudder you!  ❞

❝ In the proper place where my beasts are bedded. ❞

❝ Well, they should be. They’re weighted with authority. ❞

❝ These are heavy books. ❞

❝ Would you recite them please? ❞

❝ Thou shalt not kill. ❞

❝ Sir, between the two of us, we do know them all. ❞

❝ Who weeps for these weeps for corruption. ❞

❝ The pure in heart need no lawyers. ❞ 

❝ I’ve seen your power.  ❞

❝ You are combined with ANTI-CHRIST!  ❞

❝ It needs a cold wife to prompt lechery. ❞

❝ Do you know your commandments?  ❞

❝ Do you think yourself so mighty the Devil may not turn your wits? ❞

❝ God’s icy wind will blow. ❞

❝ They’re weighted with authority. ❞

❝ Hell and Heaven grapple on our backs, and all our old pretenses ripped away.  ❞

❝ They/he/she will be condemned. ❞

❝ I have known her/him sir! I have known her/him. ❞

❝ How do you call heaven? ❞

❝ For having committed the crime of witchcraft. ❞

❝ This is a hearing. ❞

❝ I refused to be her/his/their slave. ❞

❝ Answer my question!  ❞

❝ We never touched. ❞

❝ I may think of you softly from time to time. ❞

❝ Purge your contempt and give us the name. ❞

❝ I am 18 now and a woman… however single. ❞ 

❝ I’ll not be ordered to bed anymore. ❞

❝ I have given you my soul.  ❞ 

❝ Because it is my name!  ❞

❝ You will say it, ______. ❞

❝ More… Weight.  ❞

❝ I will cut off my hand. ❞

❝ Show some honor now. ❞

[survivaltalent-blog]

foulmouthpiece:

     the urge to bite crawls up her throat, not in malice but defense. i know that. i get it. jesus christ. in many ways, millie wishes astyne had moved her notebook. then she’d have somewhere to start. then she’d have someone to blame.

     abandoning her futile search through the pile of junk on her bed, she sits on its edge and raises the heels of her palms to dig into her eye sockets. just think. they slide to her temples leaving cat-eyed eyeliner streaks behind. just focus.

     a steadying breath in and the tears come on like a faucet, gushing and silent.

he watches her the same way one would watch a pet they suspect is about to do something wrong. the last thing he expects is for her to start crying. he knows he should be used to it by now, but his family wasn’t exactly big on showing emotions and a non-relative 30+ year old around a crying teenager isn’t usually an innocent situation.

“oh, uh,” he starts off as eloquently as always, hesitating for a moment before slowly moving over and sitting next to her. he doesn’t think she’ll hurt him on purpose for trying to comfort her, but her abilities are still relatively unknown to him and she has lashed out accidentally before. carefully, he puts a hand on her back and starts rubbing.

“hey, it’s okay. you’ll get it back before you know it. if it’s really important, you could write it down and copy it into the journal later?”

[survivaltalent-blog]

empathicstars:

   “Planet, profession.” The answer comes easily – so easily that Aella hardly glances up at April as she speaks. The moving, colorful, bright force of April Miller. Always on fire, always electric. 

   In many ways, it is exhausting to Aella. Of course, she is not tired of April as such, but the idea of exerting so much restless energy so constantly… Aella releases a soft breath through her nose. 

   Aella, of course, is still reading. She is cradling a PADD with one hand, standing against her wall of books and glancing up every few moments to compare something. She is back to what she has always seen as herself – back to her work. 

   “You do have some of my time. We are talking now, are we not?” 

“mm,” she replies, crossing her arms and wiggling her toes. she won’t admit to aella that she misses being on earth, but it must be obvious in all of the pent up energy. she just wants to run in a park or play in the ocean. she thought being on a spaceship would be fun, but she’s finding it hard to make friends with anyone, especially nonhumans. she’s trying really hard not to be offensive, but she’s from 2018, she doesn’t know the social etiquette of this time.

“i mean some of your time where we’re doing something other than talking,” she mumbles, not even sure if she’s been heard. april stands easily and walks over to the viewscreen, as she’s heard it be called, looking out into the vastness of space and trying not to feel sick. it’s just one more thing she has to get used to.

“will i ever get over feeling like an outsider?”

[fleur-aesthetic]

famflowerfarm

[survivaltalent-blog]

empathicstars:

   It is to be expected, of course, that April is having some… difficulties adjusting. So much changed essentially over the course of a few minutes – everything she’d known about Aella, the world, her life… changed in a single decision. In a flash. 

   “Do not worry about others staring at your clothes. They are simply attempting to place you.” Aella, of course, knew the feeling, too well, too intimately. “There should not be many areas that would be deemed as restricted to you. I am sure if you were interfering, an officer would allow you to know.” 

   But the missing from Aella’s work… ah. Black eyes move away from her PADD, watch long red hair stretch, sees her complexion shift minutely. 

   “I understand that this may be… difficult to which to acclimate, but I have… always prioritized work.” 

it’s obvious that she’s restless in the way that she can’t stay in one position for too long. already, she’s rolling back over so she can push herself into a sitting position, her legs crossed so her ankles are under her knees. she makes a slightly frustrated noise, knowing by now that she doesn’t have to tell aella how she feels.

“place me how?”

it’s always been true that april is... aggressive, and assumes the worst of people. it’s a coping mechanism left over from when she still lived with her parents and from high school. she knows, deep down, that aella simply means she stands out, that it’s not usual for the environment, but april can’t help but take it as meaning they’re trying to see if she’s weak. she gives a tiny huff before softening seemingly out of no where.

“i know that you prioritize work,” her voice is soft, somewhat soothing. “i’m not asking for you to prioritize me. i just want... some of your time.”

[survivaltalent-blog]

( @empathicstars )

“yeah, i know that i can explore the ship on my own, but i don’t know the standards of living on one of these. what if i wander into a restricted area?”

she goes from laying on her stomach with her head in her hands to laying on her back, her head hanging off the bed, her red hair reaching the ground. she’s still pouting at aella, even from the odd angle, and her arms are crossed over her chest.

“and everyone stares at my clothes. i know fashion is different now, but this is comfortable for me.”

a pause and she closes her eyes, blushing pink.

“and i miss you. you work a lot.”

[survivaltalent-blog]

( @foulmouthpiece )

“i don’t know where it is, millie.”

he sounds exhausted. which, to be fair, is a normal thing that happens when you’ve been working without sleep for a few days. he follows after her into her bedroom, hesitating for only a second in the threshold. if it were any other young woman of her age, he’d stay outside of the doorway, but this is millie. there’s no boundaries in this friendship.

“you know i try not to pick up your stuff and if i do, i always put it where you’ll find it. maybe it’s in one of the rooms that isn’t out right now.”

[survivaltalent-blog]

( @genuineviolence )

“you sound kind of weird when you talk about things like that. you know that, right?”

[survivaltalent-blog]

starter call.

[survivaltalent-blog]

this blog is gonna be revamped bc i dont wanna rp half these characters anymore

[survivaltalent-blog]

empathicstars:

Being an abnormality was not a surprise to the Betazoid – though she had always, privately, wondered what it would have been like to have been raised on Betazed, where she would have been seen as normal. ( Well, even then – would her weak telepathy have been seen as a disability? )

   “I can sense other’s emotions as deeply as if they were my own – often, more deeply. It is not limited to emotions. I can also sense physical pain.” 

“interesting.”

egg worries, briefly, if she sounds as if she is appraising a science experiment or art project, but the emotion is quickly washed away, replaced again with her curiosity.

“can you block out certain people? say, if you were with a party during a stealth mission, would you be able to block their emotions and pick up on an enemy’s?”

[survivaltalent-blog]

chaordiic:

         Platitudes. In a diner, from a well-meaning stranger. Owen wonders if Morty is entertaining the notion that he is the first person to sit in front of him, delivering feel-good tangents of admiration and gratitude, gilded intentions, misguided————      or else, polemic criticism, depending on their political alignment.

   He raises the mug to his mouth, and frowns into the rim of it. Remembers, distinctly, sitting in a Tim Horton’s and  watching an elderly man staring at him through the reflective black lenses of aviator shades, wearing an orange hunting vest in an area that did not have legal hunting locations; he approached him. Asked if he could shake his hand. You saved my son. You probably don’t remember. Thank you. And then, you did the right thing. I’d skin those ragheads myself. 

     “Ever consider what you want and what other people want don’t always align?”    

   Owen seems nonchalant,     resigned. No immediate indication of hostility, despite his candidness. That’s just how he is. Doesn’t mince words. Assumes people can handle these minor truths. 

   He orders eggs, and bacon; substitutes the hash browns for something green. Food was food. It had the calories to keep him going. Even the greasy stuff was energy. He tells the waitress he will be paying for both meals. 

   “Never meet your heroes, Morty. They only end up disappointing you. …but you seem nice. And lookin’ a little thin. Meal’s on me.”

morty opens his mouth to argue about owen paying for his meal but a bark of laughter leaves him instead, the sound surprising even himself in the quiet of the diner. his lips meet again as he closes his mouth and he presses a few fingers to it, having the decency to at least look embarrassed.

the expression quickly changes as he sits up straight before leaning in, settling both hands on the table, palms down, and looking owen right in the eyes as he speaks.

“you’re not my hero, mr. grady. far from it. no, you’re just someone i find interesting and would like to get to know. i don’t believe you saved people on the island because of some training you got while you were enlisted, i think you did because you’re a good person.”

he leans back again and crosses his arms, giving a small smile and a halfhearted shrug.

“i don’t think you’re a hero for the reasons the media presents. and i would be willing to help change that if you wanted. but i only wanna talk right now, ask you all the questions you’ve probably heard a million times. and size you up for myself.” a pause. “you’re really nice, despite what i expected.”

[survivaltalent-blog]

anyways i came on to say i’ve been on @mixestapes!!!!! i promise i’ll be back but hey! baby is awake!

[survivaltalent-blog]

tumblr won’t show me my activity page so that’s……. fun

[survivaltalent-blog]

maybe if i reblog this it will show me