#oc mar

[zim-eatz-wafflez]

711 run @ 4 AM

[dusstbunny]

My new Star Wars oc Mar!!!

He a trans guy (he/him) and a devaronian, which sorta explains his appearance. To be fair this is my take on devaronians, based on the lore about the female ones being covered in fur.

Also he and his clone captain, Blackout, have a crush on each other/secretly date (depending on where in the timeline we are lol)

Also I’m gonna make him interact with my other Star Wars oc, Helena, in some way but idk how yet tihihi

[geuretea]

I really like how this one came out!

[atomic-insomnia]

last line tag

sort of got a working dash again with a bunch of xkit tweaks but it’s still slow going

A ten-year-old reading the obituaries every day puts off most folks.

tagging, with no obligation:  @dotr-rose-love, @unfortunatelyunfocused, @writingamongthecoloredroses, @northofnowhere4 or @inkwell-attitude, and anyone who sees this who’s doing Camp NaNo

[zim-eatz-wafflez]

Erm- 

The Dib Thing asked for NO Pickles -

[zim-eatz-wafflez]

⚡️⚡️⚡️

[atomic-insomnia]

Happy WBW! ^^ I'd like to know some facts about where Amelia lives. Is it one place or she is always on the move (I believe you mentioned this before but I don't remember it, hence why I am asking sorry ^^>). Also where was she and her sister born and how was that place like, their environment, society etc. Maybe it shows how they ended up choosing the professions they did. ^^ (from @dotr-rose-love)

Thanks, @dotr-rose-love!

Amelia and her sister were born and raised in New York City, and they’ve never actually been out of it!

They were born in the Lower East Side??? *mumbles neighborhood name because I never know all the intricate associations each and every NYC neighborhood is supposed to carry* Probably???  It was at any rate, a very poor neighborhood where most people didn’t expect things to ever get better.  It was rough, and while most people in the neighborhood were pretty close-knit, Amelia’s mother tended to rub people the wrong way--she was actually from a fairly well-to-do family from a different part of New York, and she basically treated everyone else like they were beneath her.  That and the fact she was a Spiritualist medium tended to push people away.  (Their father loved his kids but had basically jumped into marriage too soon without really knowing his wife, and since divorce was difficult to get and looked down on, they just grew more distant from each other).  Basically, Amelia learned to do seances from her mother--who truly believed in ghosts--and learned to read people and advertise and overall, how to become good at making people see what she wants them to see.  Matilda on the other hand learned very young that she was really the only responsible person in the household, learned to feel like taking care of everything is her job, and wanted nothing more than peace and quiet.  While it didn’t directly lead her to becoming a telephone operator (where she makes most of her money) and a librarian (which is the job she really loves), the ideas were founded there--you’ve got to work hard, you’ve got to make money, and you’ll never get a moment’s peace unless someone thinks it’s your job to be quiet and read books.

[atomic-insomnia]

Shakespearean Tag Game

Thanks for the tag, @writingamongthecoloredroses!

Rules:  Take a passage from your WIP and run it through the English to Shakespearean Translator

From Beg, Borrow or Steal:

Mar alloweth h'r stayeth f'r a full week, did provide the lady hath kept quiet during the day while Mar did sleep.  Did turn out, Amelia did sleep m're than mar did—that wench did wake up from doing h'r nighttime job of being a phoneth op'rat'r to has't a parteth timeth day job of being a librarian in the tiny library of did donate books yond gib'r'd to h'r block.  Amelia did dance all night—pick'd up some valorous wage from dancehall competitions, too, and didn’t picketh up any men, which wast both a disappointment in the moment and a relief the next m'rning—and did sleep all the live-long day.  The only timeth the lady did get up bef're noon wast the day the lady did get h'r hair re-styled, trimm'd and fing'r-wav'd with shining wax yond wouldst sticketh f'r a valorous week and a half if 't be true the lady did treat t right.  T tooketh all day. meanwhile Mar’s patience wast wearing thin with a want of “purpose in thy life,” as the lady hath called t, “and i don’t cullionly half-crock'd scams. ” “would thee calleth maman’s scams ‘half-crocked’?” Amelia hath said with a haughty air.  “ab-solutely not.  Those gents w're a completeth crock. ” “you’re not comical. ” “i’m not staying eith'r, so don’t w'rry about t, Mar-malade. ” and the lady hath left with h'r knapsack of one crisp dresseth, a couple pairs of und'r-things, and seven whole dollars from the east sh're danceth hall’s foxtrot ‘til thee dropeth competition.  She’d been dancing by h'rself at the endeth, h'r arms 'round an imaginary partn'r, but then th're’d been ten dollars in t f'r h'r, and she’d already hadst three dollars’ w'rth of drinks with nay oth'r way to payeth t off.  She’d off'r'd to did split the remaind'r with Mar, who is't hadst only shaken h'r headeth and sigh'd

Well that’s a nightmare

tagging, with no obligation:  @gothicmagpie, @dotr-rose-love, @mrs-raven-writes, @ri-is-writing, @dustylovelyrun

the real passage:

Mar let her stay for a full week, provided she kept quiet during the day while Mar slept.  Turned out, Amelia slept more than Mar did—that girl woke up from doing her nighttime job of being a phone operator to have a part time day job of being a librarian in the tiny library of donated books that catered to her block.  Amelia danced all night—picked up some good money from dancehall competitions, too, and didn’t pick up any men, which was both a disappointment in the moment and a relief the next morning—and slept all the live-long day.  The only time she got up before noon was the day she got her hair re-styled, trimmed and finger-waved with shining wax that would stick for a good week and a half if she treated it right.  It took all day.

Meanwhile Mar’s patience was wearing thin with a lack of “purpose in your life,” as she called it, “and I don’t mean half-crocked scams.”

“Would you call Maman’s scams ‘half-crocked’?” Amelia said with a haughty air.  “Ab-solutely not.  They were a complete crock.”

“You’re not funny.”

“I’m not staying either, so don’t worry about it, Mar-malade.”

And she left with her knapsack of one clean dress, a couple pairs of under-things, and seven whole dollars from the East Shore Dance Hall’s Foxtrot ‘Til You Drop competition.  She’d been dancing by herself at the end, her arms around an imaginary partner, but then there’d been ten dollars in it for her, and she’d already had three dollars’ worth of drinks with no other way to pay it off.  She’d offered to split the remainder with Mar, who had only shaken her head and sighed.