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although my prior reserve is about an hour expired...if he is still available, i would like to app emperor belos from the owl house! application can be found under the third link in the sidebar or /app.
Welcome to spooky Isola Radiale, Emperor Belos!
You’ll be staying in HOUSE 101!
You will retain your Artificial Magic to teleport up to five times per day.
You will also be given a wooden staff.
Enjoy your stay!
– ⋆ canopus.
📂
random useless headcanons ( not accepting ! )
when it comes to things like supernatural occurrences, he likes to believe they exist because of his curiosity and will entertain the idea of cryptid / ghost hunting because of how fun it would be to research whatever he finds. however, in truth, aki doesn't actually believe in any of it.
⚜ ... !
Send me “⚜” for an aesthetic of your muse. | accepting! (cause i like making them)
Details Of A Muse: NOT ACCEPTING ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ @witchescourge sent: 1 & 3
What does your muse usually smell like? Do they use colognes, body sprays or perfumes? Are they clean-smelling, or dirty?
Now that he's got access to a shower, he doesn't smell outright dirty. At least, not when he starts the day. Depending on what he's been getting up to (or into), he might smell like whatever trash he's decided to dig through for stuff to sell by the end of it.
I'm... still reeling over the Spamton's Ass candle smelling like soy sauce...
Catch him when he's actively selling or just loitering around somewhere and he smells like a mix of the cheapest cologne money can buy and those little black tree car air fresheners. And maybe sweat.
He likes cucumber shampoo.
What are your muse’s hands like? What is the texture of their palms, how are their fingers shaped, do they clean or cut their nails?
They look smooth, but his palms have a little bit of a texture like sanded plastic from all the years he spent living in and from dumpsters.
Digging through unsorted trash isn't the safest thing to do without gloves and he's so short that getting into them could take a lot of climbing. There's a good chance that he's literally sanding them to get rid of nastier looking scrapes.
Shapewise, his hands are kind of dainty. Very small with narrow fingers, but they're a little on the long side. I'm thinking they're maybe the size of an average person's palm, give or take.
As for fingernails, he doesn't have any. He's got the shape of fingernails, but it's just the shape. He could paint the outlines to give the illusion of him having real fingernails if he wanted to.
❛ it's very rude to stare, edalyn. ❜
𝟐𝟎𝟎 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒
Boiling rain burned less than the bile that built up within Eda's throat upon seeing Belos before her, hearing that sickening voice. He never spoke a word that didn't sound obnoxiously self-important and condescending. Maybe it had always been her perspective that colored such judgement, but now that she knew just who he was and what it was he'd planned to do, she knew her assessment of him hadn't been nearly so damnable as his true personality.
"Not half as rude as what I'm gonna do to your bones for having the gall to wind up here and show that smug face of yours."
one of my favourite things about your luz is her voice & dialogue, i can always hear her in my head when i read your posts...
Please tell me your favorite things about my portrayal/muse?
Thank you so much aaaa i'm honored to hear that! 🥺🥺🥺
@witchescourge, from here!
"Beings of myth..."
Almost reluctantly, Kratos stands, putting his other books away in his pack. The tea is simply taken with him.
(Making paper cups and canteens in this era... very convenient. That's a particular invention he'll not take for granted again.)
"This way."
Nonchalant as he is, the seraph is assessing the other carefully.
"Kratos."
Simple answer.
"Are you curious about what's already here, or a new arrival trying to prepare?"
memory prompts | accepting (ish, since it’s not friday anymore)
witchescourge asked: purple...!
Send [ purple ] for a melancholy memory.
“-Do you think it was too much? I mean, I’m not going to leave him there permanently, just until he cools off and, you know, until I’m ready to face-” Monkey King pauses in his ramblings to make a vague gesture. “-all that again.”
The shrine stays silent, save for the wind rustling the trees outside the temple.
“Yeah, you’re right, he’ll be fine.” He clicks his tongue, rocking back and forth a little. His armor was left at the entrance so he could move freely for now - or the foreseeable future. “Princess Iron Fan is going to be super mad at me when she finds out I buried her husband under a mountain though. Good thing I already moved the Flower Fruit Mountain into the middle of the ocean so she doesn’t even know where to find me now, right? She or anyone else.”
He chuckles and leans back against the stone. There were quite a lot of offerings he had to move aside to get this close, which was definitely rude and probably in some way blasphemous, but he hardly cares about that. If anyone deserves to be close to the Great Monk’s last resting place, it would be him.
“Maybe it was a little too showoff-y,” He admits, turning his head to look at the shrine. “But I had to make it a spectacle, you know? It had to be the dramatic ending of the Monkey King’s tale, the last fight where he loses his staff and disappears into the unknown. Where could he be now? Nobody knows! Maybe the legendary hero is biding his time, waiting for a moment when he’s needed again and not spending most of his days sitting on the floor of his house, feeling too down to do anything because all his closest friends are-”
He cuts himself off, lowers the hand he used for gesturing with a heavy sigh and curls up on his side against the hard stone.
“I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that at all. I know I have responsibilities and stuff but I just-- I can’t. Not right now.” Not when all he wants to do is sleep for a very long time. His voice raises just a little, bouncing off the wooden beams of the temple’s interior. “If I’m making a mistake here, now’s your chance to gently scold me about it and tell me I should do better or whatever, otherwise I’m sticking to it. Three, two, one...”
The shrine stays silent.
“Thought so.”
Slowly, very slowly, he pulls himself up again. He feels... heavy. Everything feels heavy these days: his body, his name, his armor, the carefree smile he’s supposed to always wear, people talking to him, people talking about him. He thought maybe letting go of his staff will lessen the weight that tethers him to the ground, but now his hands just feel empty.
“Well, I’m off. Don’t get too lonely without me, okay?” He pats the stone one last time. “I know, I know, ‘That’s rich coming from you, Sun Wukong.’ But, you know, do as I say...”
He’s already halfway out the entrance before he pauses, looking back at the shrine for only a moment. Smiling seems pointless and hard, but he does it anyway, for his friends’ sake.
“If you decide to reincarnate again and need my help with anything, you know where to find me.”
--
A colorful bird with a long tail flies out of the temple and it is, once more, silent.
