what's everybody's aesthetic
Ooh, a nice question. I’ll uhh give some vague descriptions :V
Spree: old books, a cluttered desk filled with paper, cork boards full of twine and pins, card decks and and silver coins, vests and bow ties and sweaters, soft candlelight with tired eyes that skim over a well loved page, just trying to get to the end of a chapter. Probably smells like cinnamon. Papers crinkling and pages flipping, with the quiet scratch of a quill.
Trem: the smoothness of a worn rock, the sound of pebbles poured on the hard ground, shiny pink crystals and geodes, soft fluffy blankets, jumpers and cute dresses, pastels and kind words. The feeling of someone wrapping their arm around you in a comforting, understanding side hug. The gentle sound of tiny waves lapping at the shore.
Angie: the click clack of knitting needles, the crackling of a bonfire, a warm hearth full of flames, worn shawls and floral print, well loved rags and old clothes, paper used and seen so long it’s yellowed with age. The smell of freshly baked cookies and rusty iron. The murmur of voices of a far off story being told right before bed.
Jeff: pastel rainbows, silver spikes on leather jackets, rock covers, prank books, a pile of fluffy pillows, silky fur, the feeling of sinking into something large and safe. There’s earth between your fingers, scooped in piles by your side. Smells like mud and yarn. The sound of something snuffling at the dirt in your yard.
Prince: gold and silver and platinum, the jungle of coins in a purse, frilly outfits, spiffy suits, the glint of a knife down a dark alleyway, shadows that seem to follow and lengthen on their own. A splash of red and purple among miles of white. Smells like the stone basement, but with a fresh spritz of lavender. Feels like the scales of a pretty snake, or the cold nose of a dog.
Bog: moss, cattails, ground that squishes and sags under your feet, but never enough to make you unsteady. Mud and calm waters, ripples of laughter. Lazy clouds above waterlogged land. Smells like peat moss, a soft breeze, and a hint of something long gone. The feeling of laughing with friends and speeding down a country road.
Cherri: bright red cherries, spiked up hair, leather jackets and boots with too many straps to be practical, skulls in pink and glitter, a valentine full of tiny cut out hearts, huge puffs of smoke and muffled bangs. The sound of a rock concert in full swing. The feeling of a smile that you just can’t shake.
