#soothfog

[soothfog]

#SOOTHFOG. independent original character named lee melanthom. a prophet, a prognosticator, an unwitting soothsayer. written by jordy.

A tall man was learning from a vendor how to pronounce churro. High in the sticky clouds of time, he kept repeating churro while eating a churro. How to say this made you want to live? No hand to hold still here it was: someone giving someone comfort and someone memorizing hard how to ask for it again.

[inflamezzzzz]

@soothfog:   You ran away last night.

     they’re reunited before sunset. the dying light creeps in through open curtains, painting lee’s kitchen a warm, burnt orange. soon, it will be replaced by the moon, then the sun, then the moon, and so on. time stops and moves all at once when it means so little (to lee, who slips through the windows between days and months and years as if god simply forgot to lock them; to castiel, who, if he closes his eyes and listens, still hears the clink, clink, clink, of hammers on brick as they construct the tower of babel).

he doesn’t feel scolded. just confused.

‘ you knew i would come back. ’

[picksmusic]

@soothfog / starter call.

" alright then. " wary, brows seaming together the space between his brows until two bundled furrows appear, dean's chin wags a cautious assent.

( this isn't the nightmarish, clammy sweat of sam's uncertain prognostication nor missouri's frank piecing together of the thoughts milling the space between his temples. seems juju comes painted in different shades & just like any new, uncanny presence forcing a place in the hunter's lore, dean treats it with his brand of uncouth discernment. )

his adam's apple jerks over a swallow, a nervous em-dash. " what did you see? "

[guttersniper]

@soothfog said: [ laces ] lee lacing , tying , or zipping something for mutt, such as shoes , a dress , or a jacket , etc

action prompts.

soft, dark, tired eyes. clumsy tongue and shabby clothes. lee neither threatens nor imposes nor demands. mutt almost asks when the last time he slept—really slept—was. for all that he is rough around the edges, angry, at his worst mean-spirited, kindness and rage exist simultaneously. it keeps his heart beating when nothing else would, when there was no one there to nurture it but the concrete and dirt.

besides, lee might counter with the same question. mutt can be a touch hypocritical. his patience doesn't often do well when it is pointed out.

any confidence goes out the door at the unexpected gesture. (half-unexpected, more like. he'd watched lee bend fully on one knee, the other jack-knifed upwards. he'd tensed, unsure.) it takes him a too-long moment to realize what he's doing: tying his boot like he couldn't do it himself.

he stares from underneath dark lashes. through dark eyes and dark circles. through dark hair.

"...thanks."

[readsm1nd]

05. silently leaves a folded note on the table in front of the other.

the cafe isn't crowded, and it's blissfully sunny outside, which are the two main reason why guy chooses to indulge in the luxury of occupying a seat instead of taking his order to go like usual.  guy is careful when picking public spaces. has to be, when too many people around him could give him a headache without even opening their mouths.

'' what is this? ''   guy frowns, guarded, suspicious.  he tries to avoid sounding overly snappish, but he can't help a little ugliness coloring his voice whenever he feels cornered. he doesn't know the man, hasn't seen him in any of the files the talamasca has handed him — he would remember, he is good with that. that doesn't make the uneasiness go away.   '' who are you? ''

his coffee is going cold.  he still hasn't touched the note, neatly folded on the table and placed in front of him in such a deliberate way that tells him this can't be a mistake. he crosses his arms, blue eyes boring into the other man's face, chin tilted up. steady, demanding answers. 

prompt

[rekant-1]

@soothfog

Equally musing and challenging: "Will my opinion change yours?" As though what happens first is at all traditionally relevant to either of them.

fundamentally, it doesn't matter.

still, eden occasionally likes to pretend they live in a world of both dead-and-alive cats until the words are spoken out loud.

"— it might."

[readbetween]

@soothfog: 🌵 and 🌴

rp positivity meme, don't be shy!

send 🌵 and i'll recommend a canon rp blog

@inflame. through the most objective lens possible ;-) because diane and laura have novels between them on discord. i deeply resonate with laurel's ethos behind laura. to take a well-known character like her and ask if she's well-known at all by contesting how she's been more than misinterpreted, but warped, in the (pop) cultural mythos to social detriments is a significant project. and she was diane's first kid, so we both have to shout out these two.

send 🌴 and i'll recommend a blog i haven't spoken to yet but admire from afar

since i'm keeping this blog substantially private to folks i've known, i'm modifying this prompt a wee bit to recommend @bluedprints. the reason being that blue's blog is actually the first i've "transgressed" on this with, lol! i found her writing via my dash/Mutual Friends and fell completely into it and her vibrant character concepts + settings. i had to follow and am really happy i did.

[november-golf]

@alulars liked.

An infant crawls alone down a quiet parkpath. She is searching for her father and he is nowhere.

Near to her, Mikal passes his hand under the faucet of the public drinks fountain, and rubs the clean water up and across his skin, up to the elbow.

 "Had you met me yet?" Mikal asks his brother without turning from his routine.