#icstuff

[tristanasneak]

Questions

The girl limped her way slowly up the hill beyond the city limits, seeking shelter beneath the outstretched limbs of an old oak tree. It wasn't long before she finally found herself resting in the grass beneath, moving both hands to pull her boot from her bandaged and swollen right foot. A hiss of both pain and relief passed through her clenched teeth as she set it back down in the cool blades of grass, letting her head slump back to rest against the trunk of the tree after.

"What am I doing?" A question she'd voiced so many times before fell from her lips. Her eyes half lidded wearily, the mask of bravado which she wore so well in the company of others, slipped away to leave simply the etched lines of stress and discomfort written across her pale features.

After a few long minutes of quiet reflection the blonde reached a hand to her belt, sliding a rather crumpled sheet of parchment from where she'd tucked it securely away. Upon it, lay a strange magical etching - a glyph which had 'fallen' into her hands earlier in the evening. Her brows furrowed as she looked down upon it, lips thinning into an expression of deep thought. "But what does it mean..." Troubled by the unanswered questions floating about in her head, she tugged a fresh sheet of paper from a bag she'd stashed beneath a nearby shrub and began working quickly to sketch out a copy of the unfamiliar design.

Soft beeping from her pocket drew her from her work as she added the finishing touches, a measure of frantic rummaging through her pockets with charcoal sooty fingers required before she found the device, a hasty click of a button silencing it. As always, she had a job to do.

Her questions would need to wait.

[redheadreptile]

"Hi, listen, there's someone following me, and I'm paranoid so can you talk to me for a few minutes to make it look like I'm not alone?" // -shrug- I JUST WANNA WRITE WITH YOU AND YOUR RAD OC AND AHH???

“....huh?” Why did people seem to approach him like he was some friendly, nice person? Whatever. “Ain’t much a conversationalist, sheila, but I guess...” Not like he approved of creepers. They were generally the worst sort of people. “...nice plaid.”

[kindspirit]

The huntress had just helped the last remaining refugees out of the school house before she turned back to what appeared to be a cage. Two birds hopped around inside, as if they weren’t aware of the horrors just outside the door.  Releasing a soft sigh, she approached the cage, lifting a gauntleted hand to it’s latch before releasing it. The two of them would seemingly go about their business for a few moments before they noticed the open door. 

The larger of the two would flutter out, and through the open door before disappearing from view. The second would follow soon after. Celedith couldn’t fathom how fast things could change. People could lead almost normal lives, only for it to change in a mere moment.

[the-batcams]

Musings of the Meek

Tagged by: albinomiqote

Name of your Muse: Camy Laykk. 

One picture you like best of your Muse’s FC:

No pictures >:|

Two headcanons you have for your muse that you never told anyone:

Her strong anger towards her biological parents, and she how believes that they abandoned her.

She was a complete loner, by choice, during her childhood, and found books far more interesting the neighbours’ kids.

Three things that your muse likes doing in their free time:

Reading, a lot of reading. Be it reading fiction, of any genre, or researching a specific subject for what ever reasons. 

Baking. Something she picked up recently and has progressivly gotten better at. 

Taking naps ! Whenever she’s not busy, watching over patients that’re sleeping in the infirmary or she’s just bored, she’ll pass out for a bit. 

Two things your muse regrets:

How naive she used to be, believing that nothing bad would ever happen to her or her loved ones, and learned her lesson the hard way. 

That she never went to see her brother after the death of their parents, and even to this day still hasn’t resolved everything between them, even though they used to be close during their childhood.

Two phobias your muse has:

((As I could not name two “phobias”, since there isn’t something she’s extremely scared of, I’ll name two things she’s just afraid of.)) 

Thunder. While she enjoys the rain, having grown up in the shroud, she hates the sound of thunder, and will generally hide in her room/indoors. 

Not knowing how to swim, she’s rather scared of water, or more specifically; drowning. 

Tag ten people to do the same thing: sojiana tombshine calebagron kayllen kaneableist

[cacophonicsilence]

Quit bein’ a baby and fuckin’ ASK him.

The rockstar grimaces to himself and reaches to run a hand through his disheveled hair. At least he’d been able to actually style it this morning, for the first time in… hell, how long had it been? Over a week. He’d been stuck in this damn house, barely able to so much as walk across one fucking room, for over a week. How had he not gone completely crazy? Maybe he had. That’d explain the stupid thoughts he’d been having about the asshole sleeping nearby.

That asshole. The only reason he hadn’t completely lost it from the boredom of being confined in his own house. In a weird way, Xyran Rocketfist had enjoyed the company. Those days and nights spent just… talking, rather than the unmentionable shit they usually preoccupied themselves with. Not that that wasn’t enjoyable as well (in fact, being unable to do it because of pesky inconveniences like broken bones was nothing short of tragic), but… the rockstar didn’t get the chance to talk to people much.

And the hand-holding? That’d been nice, too. The blue-haired goblin’s hand pauses in the midst of his mohawk, and he glances down towards the other goblin. That’s his hand, yep. A careful, casual little slide of his hand over… and his fingers curled briefly around the taller goblin’s, offering one of the squeezes that had become so familiar over the past few days. This was weird. This sensation of content and happiness and BUTTERFLIES and he suddenly felt like he was going to vomit. The good kind of vomit, though, if such a thing existed. Not like those nights when he’d had far too much to drink, or smoke, or both. He’d only felt this kind of sensation… twice, maybe three times before, and he dreaded putting a name to it.

Still, he couldn’t ignore it for forever. Today. Whenever they both weren’t sleeping like assholes, he’d made the first move. He’d be the biggest badass, and just ask him.

… Assuming he didn’t die of nerves first.

[livinganomalously]

♉

 So ghosts can’t sleep but can they get physically tired in any way? or could they just run everywhere without ever getting out of breath because I suppose they don’t actually breath hence you wouldn’t be able to strangle them-in that case is that dress difficult to move around in or not? because if there’s no physical tiredness or pain involved then would it be any harder than wearing leggings and t shirt for running about in? how does the physics of this work?… because I can physically feel her but no-one else can so what are ghosts made of because it can’t be actual matter surely otherwise we would all see and feel it but if it’s not matter then how come objects can be affected by her it doesn’t make any sense how does this WORK. I’d ask her but I doubt she’d know. does anyone know?has anyone tried?I suppose it’d need to be a supernatural person because otherwise there’d be nothing tangible to test, are there any vampire or werewolf scientists who have tried? would she know that? would it be in any literature- I should look that up and try and find someoneseeing as vampires live forever hypothetically if they don’t get kebabed then they’d still be alive if I could find them- okay they might try and kill me but I can see alice so I’m not a normal human so maybe my blood tastes like sour milk or something I wonder what it does taste like to vampires and what causes the change precisely, biologically speaking what causes the different reaction to the same stimulus- ETC.

[livinganomalously]

               I've seen it all                 I've seen it all, now         I swear to God I've seen it all                         Nothing shocks me anymore

[livinganomalously]

★ :-)

I think Alice is good. I know that’s a weird word to use but most people aren’t good. They pretend to be good or they’re good because it makes them come off a certain way or they’re good because they’d told to be good rather than actually just being good. But Alice, she’s just good. She thinks, she’s got perspective, she’s not stupid, and she’s somehow managed to keep her head on straight for 275 years which frankly is remarkable because I’ve barely managed to do that for twenty-one.  And that means she must be strong, she’s got backbone, I like that.