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@ohshadow / sc
❝ Don't give me that look. No one actually keeps cookies in these things. ❞ he clucked his tongue, gently reached to take the cookie tin filled with a variety of sewing supplies. He replaced the lid and set it back where it had come from.
❝ My mother didn't even keep sewing supplies in hers. She kept trinkets and little polished rocks and the sorts like some sort of crow. ❞ fondness leaked through his dull tone despite himself.
🚩🚩 !
send me a 🚩 and i'll share my unpopular rpc opinions and hot takes / not accepting !
ONE. (You inspired me for this one, so thank you.) Older muses are hot! We need more older muses!
Funny enough, Ghostface is my youngest muse (at 33), my others are significantly older (granted they're. . . not human and are like 1,000+ years, but it translates to 30s, 40s, beyond). Older FCs are hot! For a group that claims to love older men and dad bods and paternal figures, you sure don't represent them enough. And don't get me started on older women. Underrepresented. Understandably (but not justified) bc the rpc is HEINOUS towards women period, god forbid it be an older woman.
TWO. I don't like purity culture. There's a time and place for it, certainly, but it has seeped so deeply into every crevice of the rpc that often you'll get the people who pull out bullshit takes like "you're rping a minor muse in an appropriate manner even tho you're an adult, therefore, you're a p*do" and it makes me want to eat dry wall. It's why I can't stand being in most servers bc I have to sit and read so many "doing xyz means you're abc" or "this thing is problematic" over innocuous things not even worth the time of fucking day.
Here's the thing: discomfort is a GOOD THING. It is NECESSARY in life. You are naturally going to experience times in your life where you're like "I don't like this, I don't wanna do this, etc." Safe spaces are extremely important and I will never deny that; however, you cannot live 24/7 in a bubble. And it's unfair to try and force others into your bubble. If someone out there is doing something extremely heinous (writing underage topics, participating in rac*sm, harrassing people, etc) then, yes, that needs to be called out and that person needs to be held accountable. But for the innocuous things? Why are we constantly policing people on the most minuscule subjects?? It's absurd. Not everything is sunshine and fucking daisies and it never will be.
Anyway, if you can't tell I'm a millennial. . .
@ohshadow : ❝ you see, i had quite a reputation as the go-to guy. my job demanded it at the time. so I know where to apply the tiniest amount of pressure to a wound like yours. ❞ @ ghost bc we love a little bit of confusion, paranoia, or betrayal.
he doesn't blame phantom in the slightest for this. he'd fucked up, set off a silent alarm on his sweep of the building that he hadn't known about and shit had only gone downhill from there. what should've been a simple mission to retrieve data on the target, had devolved into a hail of bullets and debris, dust filling the air and making it hard to see anything. it'd made phantom sneaking up on him all the easier, his presence unnoticed until he felt pain shoot through his hip and his head collide with the doorframe.
now here he sat, tied to a shitty chair in a shitty damp room with a barely functioning lightbulb swinging above them. through the dim lighting, he could finally see his attacker ; the familiar silhouette of an old friend. a realisation quickly dawned on him. well this wasn't fucking good. he'd seen him work in the past, seen the aftermath of his interrogations and they were always a gruesome sight. definitely not for the faint of hearts. good thing he's got a sick and twisted mind to be able to deal with that shit.
and now he was in the same position as they had been. not a great place to be. eyes drifted from phantom to the others that lingered at the side of the room, watching with eagle eyes to see what their new recruit would do, waiting to see him prove himself. words brought ghost's attention back to the elder, masking emotions behind an impassive gaze. trying to appeal to him wasn't going to work, and acting like he knew him would blow his cover. all he can do is just accept whatever comes his way. ❝ you jus' gonna run your mouth off or get on with it? ❞ there's no patience for the taunting, nor can he stand it. he'd rather just get on with whatever phantom was going to do.
Ok i think we all know the routine by now @ohshadow posts a meme image and i rush to draw it without even glancing at a reference because drawing for mutuals makes my brain happy
@ohshadow
There had been something about drifting around late at night that was keeping Atieno occupied. The activity of the night time was a prime place for them to hang out...A crash surprisingly close to them had them stumbling on their own walk, jarred out of the the stroll that they were taking.
"Damn, talk about .. getting thrown off-kilter." They muttered, just glancing around to see what could have been .. going on.
The creeping feeling of being watched didn't seem to help matters either.
"...Hey there?" They are back on their guard, gathering their bearings and continuing to look around even more intently ... they had spoken, if only to see who else might have been out here.
Starter for @ohshadow
"Fancy meeting you again." Y'shtola spoke quietly, mindful of their place in a library, and sat herself next to Sliske at a table. She had a stack of books in hand, which she set down, and plucked the top from the stack to open and start reading. Quiet while reading may be preferred most times, but the man had been a good conversationalist before, and she was in an amicable mood, even if they only ended up reading silently in company. "How goes your reading?"
continued from here
"Shit," she hisses, her hand brushing over her forehead for fingers to run through hair mussed from sleep. The panic thumping in her chest is far from subsiding, but she opts to think rationally for a moment. Only none of this is rational. Perhaps the boogeyman shouldn't have a British accent, perhaps the boogeyman shouldn't exist at all. And yet here she is talking to @ohshadow lurking in the darkness, neither human or animal.
This only serves as a reminder of her bizarre encounters since the horrors of Temple Gate. As if the world around her has opened up and lost all sense. Slowly, carefully, she expels a shaky breath.
"... They're dead. All of them. I think..." She racks her memory, though thinking back to Temple Gate always results in a hazy projection. Like a photo out of focus. "Some were attacked in the mines... The others were just lying there. Dead. Outside of the church. I had to crawl over them, but I don't remember if anyone..." She'd looked for the face of her husband in those bodies too, but she never found him.
Lynn swallowed back her fear and looked at the being in her doorway.
"... Who are you? Why do you want to know about the cult?"
* great distances does the sound of voice travel , a soft hum layered in volumes - perhaps belonging to many yet resulting in the discovery of but one single woman. a fox , those five tails laying around her prove so. it has been some time since her forest or shrine received any visitors , her usual awareness was null within her current state of relax.
‘tween fingertips is a flower , stem covered with the presence of light frost. tall ears atop her head suddenly flick , the sound of footsteps . . how unusual. humming comes to a halt as eyelids part , amethyst gaze slow in its movement to find them; “ . . forgive me , have i disturbed you?” people often find her shrine for peace , not to listen to any song. || @ohshadow
