#mythvoiced

[wellfell]

i'm kinda emotional because in this reply i'm writing akina is reminded of the tigers in her mansion when she thinks about eren's glares and .. this is so iconic tbh . the same tigers that tried to eat her when she was nine . hehe .

[clemencetaught]

I wasn't sure if y'wanted them sent in today or tomorrow, BUT TO NOT MESS UP-- (you mentioned answering ic in the tags so yeeting these directly at Patrick >:3 sorry if they're too many omg)

Patrick (any verse)

What does it feel like when others depend on you, in one way or another?

Are you more prone to assuming someone needs you (in a service kind of way, for aid, for support-) or more likely to think they don't?

If psychics were 120% reliable and you could connect to those long gone… would you?

In which contexts are you more 'do as I say not as I do' and in which will you listen to your own advice?

Do you ever catch yourself growing… a little bitter, maybe, at people describing their comparatively 'mundane' problems? Is it envy?

Do you believe children should be shaped for the likeliest future or the future should be shaped for the children to come?

When is self-sacrifice acceptable?

When is hurting those you love acceptable?

in which the 54th victor of the hunger games gives an impromptu interview ( nosy questions for the birthday enby w/ @mythvoiced )

The tea cup is set on the saucer. Discreetly, Patrick slides his other hand into his pocket, where the synthetic patch on his palm wraps around his pocket knife– a habit of sorts, since he won his games. His pocket watch sits on the table, next to the saucier and on his lap, Sun has wrapped herself into a ball, her paws disappearing into the mass of orange fur. On the balcony outside his apartment in the Capitol, this is the only place Patrick knows he will be granted a modicum of privacy in the viper’s nest. 

The shadow of the balcony covers the upper half of his body. Sun keeps dozing on his lap, in the sun. 

Most times, when the questions are directed at him, they’re expecting an affirmative. Doesn’t matter if it’s coming from a District person or a Capitolite– they go to him for answers, first and foremost. And in the case of the latter, these questions are not questions so much as veiled demands. 

Ones that he must always accommodate, regardless of the nature of the demand. 

But these questions, this voice, is…well they seem genuinely curious. And the questions they’ve lobbed his way, they don’t seem to be expecting one correct answer.

Sun shifts on his lap. His leg vibrates from her purring. Patrick sighs, leaning back on his chair. “That…quite a lot of thoughts you have going on there, hm?” The knife stays in his pocket as he gently scratches the top of Sun’s head. “I’ll answer your second question first: people will always look out for themselves first. If they don’t think you’re useful, that you can contribute something good to their lives, then you’re dead to them, if they don’t kill you first. Make yourself indispensable to them and they won’t hurt you.” At least that’s what he tells himself– it’s easier to simply assume anyone who approaches him that they want something he can give them. “The younger victors will need someone to guide them anyway.” 

And even the ones who vehemently deny needing someone, anyone. Patience is always key in those instances– from Taiyang whom it took almost six years and his tribute’s sanity to finally approach Patrick to María, who still slaps away any hands offered, friend or foe. Ironically, he had to approach her first.  

“…I suppose I don’t think too much about that. If someone was asking for your help, you would be more caught up in what they’re asking, more than how you were feeling no?” A Trojan horse, he’s lobbed in their direction although he’s quick to revise: “...It scares me sometimes.” He confides, fingers pausing in their administrations on Sun’s head. Actually it scares him, a lot. “They’re…they’re relying on me to guide them to the best outcome and I want the same thing for them. I promise you, I really, truly do.” Whether it’s Hyuk, Devora, a tribute he’s been assigned to mentor, or any of the victors. And sometimes even the furball in his lap and yet– “But I…I can’t always guarantee that. But they still trust me, especially the younger ones.” The tributes from District Three– his tributes, the ones who take his hand, look up at him with wide eyes, clinging to every word, every gesture he makes as it will guarantee their survival. “Sometimes I think it would be better if they exercised more caution with me.”   

A smile, bittersweet, if not actually just bitter, graces his lips. He shakes his head though, chuckling at the next question. “...Forgive me, that’s quite a question you have there. ‘Psychics’... I don’t believe that’s information that just anyone, district or Capitol, can get ahold of–  although I have heard of some old religions still practiced in the districts so I suppose the knowledge and belief in such mediums is possible to get ahold of.” He stares down at his tea, the steam still rising. Even if it is a hypothetical question on a medium known to be more shoddy than reputable, he can’t help but pause. If they could contact those ‘long gone’; would that mean, if he asked them to, would he be able to speak to her one last time–

He shakes his head, eye catching his pocket watch, metal beaten and faded, the clock face wearing a crack down the right side. Still, it shimmers in the sunlight. “Even if I could, I…I highly doubt she would want to talk to me of all people.” If they hadn’t met, if they hadn’t fallen in love, she probably would still be alive. Tellessa’s family too. 

After all, he was the first person outside of Tellessa who knew about her forbidden books. “Wherever they are, it’s probably better than here.” Or at least he hopes it is for her. A place where life doesn’t have to be perfect, but it is…easier. A place for souls to rest at long last. If such a place even exists in the first place. He picks up his saucer once more, still careful not to jostle Sun on his legs. She’s taken to loafing now– he knows her eyes are closed even if her head dips every few seconds. But make no mistake, that does not mean she is unaware. Trusting of the one asking the questions. If it was just him, she would be stretched out, a white underbelly waiting for his hand to scratch kindly at the ceiling.

Perhaps the saying is true after all: like owner, like pet. Although Patrick would argue she’s more like Hyuk if anything.

“It depends on the circumstances,” he says as neutrally as possible. A vague answer for a hypothetical question, because that is truly it. “I suppose if one’s life was on the line, it would be better if they followed my lead, no?” 

Not that that’s stopped, those with rebellious tendencies from committing treason anyways. ( And unfortunately, he can name more than one. ) It is ironic in that manner– for someone who knows the system, knows how to work within the rules all, has spent years perfecting his craft in survival arts, it would make more sense to invest on those with similar goals. And yet here he is, worrying about the ones who are decided not interested in survival and therefore would spurn his advice at any given moments. “Not that…that following my advice has ever helped them make it through.” 

(His tributes. All thirty nine of them. No two games are ever the same, the gamemakers would never allow that. If the circus known as the Hungers Games must be reborn over and over again if it wishes to continue.)

He takes a sip of his tea, washing down the momentary displeasure. Or at least he thinks it will be only a moment long. “I suppose what a Capitol citizen would consider a ‘mundane issue’, as you put it, would differ from those of someone from the districts. The former does seem more inclined towards complaining if only to build comradery amongst one another. I’m just glad that they have such means to…channel their frustrations.” 

( It’s in times like those, where he wishes his temper could curdle, the way Devora’s does in the face of the Capitol Elite. How he wishes he could simply let her use the knife to silence those idle complaints. )

Patrick takes another sip of his tea. It burns in his throat. It’s bitter too– he must have let the leaves seep for too long. But the asperity doesn’t just settle on his tongue. “Are we talking about an ideal world or the one we live in now? Depending on who you ask this question to, you’re guaranteed to get quite…different answers.” A smile, as frigid as the shaved ice the Capitol serves as a delicacy during the games, crosses his lips. “Our great nation was built to provide safety and prosperity for the children. To serve them. Although whether the truth is actually the other way around will again, depend on who you ask. As a mentor to my tributes, I suppose…we can’t deny the reality in front of us, no?”

Sun yawns. He puts his tea down and idly, he scratches the underside of her chin and he feels her purring against his finger. “Are you sure you should be asking me that question? I would think there are more…suitable candidates for this question.” People like Hyuk, he means. People like María– the kinds who would gladly make sacrifices, give pieces of themselves for a cause. “Self-sacrifice won’t get you where you need to be– there’s a reason martyrs are only known after their death– they’re even given a chance to be known. Anyone who thinks otherwise is a fool. They’re only deluding themselves into believing they can make everything better. A…colleague of mine said it best: ‘a martyr works, a survivor works better’. If you want to truly help the ones around you, self-sacrifice will only get you so far.”

Or so Patrick claims. He can hear it though– the sound of Hyuk shouting at him to stop lying. The truth is, self-sacrifice, if it is for a tangible reason, is…well maybe it is not worthwhile, but it can be certainly respected, especially if this tangible reason is a human life. The Capitol will always wonder what spurred Patrick to hold his district partner’s hand even if it burned a hole through his skin, will always wonder why Taiyang insisted on protecting Link in the arena, will always wonder why, why, why would Devora so willingly serve as President Snow’s puppet even if it further severs her ties to the districts despite everything the games took from her.

They would never understand compassion in a dog-eat-dog world– self sacrifice.

“...However, I suppose, if there was truly a good reason to do so…well, I have yet to see it.”

( Like the promise of a better world. If there is even one that exists. )

His hand stops. Sun turns her head towards him, copper eyes watching him. “When do we not hurt the ones we love?” Perhaps the better question for him is: when is he not hurting the ones he loves? He saw it in her eyes and Hyuk’s too. And yet they forgave him, somehow, every time. If not for that, well…would there even be a reason to keep going? “That’s part of caring for someone, no? You are preparing for them to hurt you without retaliation.” He shakes his head, snorting. “I think the answer should be obvious, if it guarantees their well-being in the long run, I think that is a gamble to be considered. That being said–” 

Sun jumps off his lap and stretches, paws facing this curious passerby. Patrick crosses his legs, hands resting on his lap. A veneer, similar to the one he dons in the Capitol flashes through, even if he is not currently in his usual suit. “You wouldn’t want to be close with someone like me. I’ve been known to have…a reputation of sorts. One of burning and you could…no, you would most definitely get hurt, one way or another and we wouldn’t want that happening, no? Just a thought for you to consider.”

He watches Sun make her way to the sliding glass door in the shade. Her tails whips side to side as she looks up at the handle. Then she looks at him and meows. 

Patrick glances at his pocket watch. “It’s feeding time for Sun.” Well, sort of– it’s more like it’s half an hour before her feeding time, but he knows gets antsy the closer meal time gets around. But this person doesn’t have to know that. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be taking care of business now. If you need anything more, you know where to find me.”

Or better yet, he’ll know where to find them.

[kamipyre]

and one thing for a certain model.... || closed starter for @mythvoiced ♡

“I wanted to be an actor when I was younger.” Before her parents died to be exact, but realistically, even without the burn scars, Suki knows she wouldn’t have made a very good one. The fox in her hands continues to build itself. “Aren’t there lots of actors who start their careers late anyways?”

[hymnoire]

The palms of her hands down the desk, her eyes are resting on every single piece of evidence gathered : photos of the women both Doe ( @mythvoiced ) and Mara have managed to identify as trafficked in the network of sex workers she has been tracking for weeks now. If Mara could gather the profiles of half of them, the other half came from Doe and his own investigations : as a way for him to prove how serious he is on his offer, he wants to help.

"Impressive." The word is meant. "I know you got this whole anarchism, fuck the system, death to the monarch vibes going on for you but : you would make a good inspector. You did a good job." It always is a dangerous line for her to walk : Detective Lim Maritza works alone and insists on working alone. Trust, she refuses to give to the first man in a suit pretending to seek Justice and fight for a brighter world. Yet after weeks of back and forth between Doe and her, she must admit, he's an asset. "You're serious about helping these women, aren't you?"

[ofgentleresolve]

( reposted from sideblog on january 11th, 2023. )

@mythvoiced sent in: MORE NELL, MORE NELL~ What are ways for her to wind down after a tough day/night? How does she feel about tough life decisions, avoidant or 'better get this over with as fast as possible'? What's her dream home? Ideal date? 👀 Does she prefer working in silence or does she like ambient sounds or maybe some tunes playing in the background? What's a supposed work 'for children' that she'd thoroughly enjoy as an adult? One work of fiction that feels like home? What are her high fives like, soft, loud, two hands, one hand, is she one of those people that holds your hand a little when your palms connect? ALL THE LOVE, FERRE~ || lena back at it with the WONDERFUL QUESTIONS 🥺

She has to look twice at this curious bystander because most of the time, she’s the one who ends up asking the questions, not the other way around. Between her, Alfred, and Myungdae, she has the least to hide…if one does not count the illegal hacking Nell used to do on the side.  But in her defense, it was a side gig,  the rent in London is always going up, and her employer at the time definitely didn’t have any intention of matching her salary with inflation rates. Hand momentarily off the keyboard, she points to herself, mouthing ‘me, right?’

Yes, they are talking to her.

Her hands go back to the keyboard- wireless with tactile switches; perhaps getting one with linear switches would be better since they make less noise and require less force to press down on, but the sound of typing is so ingrained in her ( and the other two for that matter ), it feels wrong to switch to something else. “I’m a simple girl. Give me my Do*ctor Who marathons and a tub of pistachio ice cream and I’ll be there. Not that any other flavor is worse, but you know…we all have our preferences, don’t we? Myungdae’s got his red beans and Alfred, he’s pretty BASIC. Don’t tell him I said that.”

Chocolate, she means. Not that basic is necessarily bad in this case.

She gives a nervous laugh though, glancing over at her screen. Alfred and Myungdae still haven’t arrived yet. “This…this isn’t an interrogation is it? Not that, I’m implying that you are, I mean, why would you need to, I’m just…working on work, filing for the shop, you know-“ Oh wait, she never answered the question, did she? Maybe the way she’s reacting, answers it all too clearly- if she can, she’d rather avoid the hard decisions…even if that ends up biting her in the arse later. She sighs. “Well…avoiding them doesn’t usually solve them, does it? It’s not like he's able to…”

He, as in the Black Knight. Well, the image of the Black Knight- she’s not actually him, himself. That’s Myungdae’s role, but then again, when you’re constantly with people like Myungdae and Alfred, people have been plunged into the deep end with no life vest available and yet they’re still swimming in spite it all, it makes even the worst of problems seem…bearable.  Avoiding her problems almost feels like an insult at that point. Or maybe something about being the Black Knight makes her want to be BRAVER.

 The next question is, thankfully, less probing. “Does it have good wifi? That’s all I really need to be at home. Well, a high end condo wouldn’t be terrible- I’d love to have enough space for both windows and my screens. If it’ll let me have a smartscreen installed, I’d take that to. It’d have to have an elevator though. No stairs, if possible.” That would be for her mother, the woman who raised her all on her own. Isn’t that why Nell went into hacking to begin with- to pay her mother back for all the years put into raising her daughter? At the very least, if god forbid, something happens to her, at least her mother will be comfortable. The back of her neck suddenly grows terribly warm though-not from the sentimentality or worry, but rather from-

“D-Date?” She chuckles nervously. “T-That’s a bold question, wouldn’t you say? Not that, I’m not flattered, but-“ Well, it’s a bit difficult to maintain a relationship let alone go on a date when a. you don’t know the language well and b. most of your free time is being used to be the Black Knight’s tech support. She coughs into her hand- a classic movement picked up from Myungdae. “Take me to dinner and talk to me about D*octor Who or any of my favorite TV shows. And don’t just tell me who your favorite characters are- I want to go into the meta territory.” There’s a reason her favorites have always been the long-running shows…cartoons ( St*even Uni*verse especially- if only the real world worked the way things did in there- by talking things out, no violence necessary! ) are included, even if Alfred tells her they’re for kids. It’s her free time; she’ll be using it the way she pleases, thank you very much!

“Don’t tell Alfred this, but if neither of them is in the base, I’ll put music on- with earphones, of course.” She pats her bag that holds her trusty air pods….thank goodness for wireless headphones and keyboards, she can’t imagine returning to her days of detangling wires! That was a university thing. “What? It gets boring after a while.” Not while they’re in Black Knight mode, of course, but for all the other times, seeing that the basement of the clocktower is one of the few places she can really be herself…if it weren’t for the fact it’s also where she works, she might consider hosting a marathon or two there.

( Little does she realize Myungdae has caught her once or twice jamming out to her music…he doesn’t mind, not at all. As a matter of fact, it can bring a small smile to his face in those moments, where she’s completely caught up with the present moment. )

A work of fiction that feels like home though? “Gotta be D*octor Who for sure. I remember when the reboot first started up- I was a tween- one with not a lot of friends mind you so I was always looking forward to going home to watch the new episode on the telly. And the old ones too. Mum used to yell at me for spending too much time looking at screens.” She laughs, albeit sadly. It’s been THREE YEARS since she’s seen her mother- since that day she had to go into hiding. The last thing she told her mother was that she was going out to get milk.

She wonders if her mother is still waiting for her to come home. With milk. She rubs her hands- last question. “Hm…actually I haven’t given a high-five in a while. It’s not exactly a thing, we- you know.” Most times when there’s a victory within Team Checkmate, it’s acknowledged briefly before they move on to the next topic. “I guess it would depend on who I’m giving it to? Myungdae’s not a huge fan of pain-“ So she’d probably hold his hand in a gesture of victory than high-five. “And Alfred’s on the rougher side.” Which means her palms will inevitably sting.

But speaking of which, she notices them from the other end of the room. Alfred is waving her to join them. Closing her laptop, she gives the curious soul a tight smile. “Sorry, I’d love to chat more but uh…my ride’s here. And they don’t like it when I keep them waiting.” Standing up, she tucks her laptop into her bag along with the keyboard. “Maybe we can meet up again some time? It’s hard making friends you know- well, maybe you have better luck than I do, but that’s not your problem so much as it is mine and it’s probably my fault anyways-“

She takes a deep breath.

“Anyways. I’ll see you around. Try to stay out of this side of Itaewon tonight for me, okay?”

[jeoseungsaja]

🎶✨when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to tag 10 of your favorite followers (positivity is cool)🎶✨

@mythvoiced ♚ HELLO, I LOVE YOU

I'm going to put my playlist on shuffle and let it choose for me because I'm indecisive IUWEHDIUHED:

🎵 Heartbreak | MINHO 🎵 Love Pain | SHINee 🎵 When You Were Young | The Killers 🎵 River of Darkness | The Midnight & Timecop1983 🎵 Remember This | Jonas Brothers

[ofgentleresolve-a]

making my own version of this post but:

Kim Shin 🤝 Patrick Grace: loving, caring, and worrying over the different versions of the same soul in their own unique ways and also having great taste in love interests SHSJDIDI

@mythvoiced @jeoseungsaja

[voxvulgi]

As if he truly no longer cared about coming up with good excuses to grace his existence against hers, to pretend they actually do exist at the same time, that perhaps the rest of the world was the actual illusion, the magician’s trick, that this is Alice’s Wonderland and being together was as good to getting to that exit as they’d ever get.

@mythvoiced

your skill is beyond my comprehension idk how anyone could ever write like this this is so romantic and so eloquent and beautiful and I CAN’T, LENA--