HI. I am online. For real.... just kinda swamped with school so... yeah.

izzy's playlists!

shark vs the universe
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
No title available
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

Janaina Medeiros
we're not kids anymore.

★
Sweet Seals For You, Always
noise dept.

#extradirty

Kiana Khansmith
macklin celebrini has autism

Love Begins
styofa doing anything

⁂
Today's Document
Cosimo Galluzzi
trying on a metaphor
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Philippines

seen from Türkiye
seen from Brazil
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Italy

seen from Australia
@terribleredbeast
HI. I am online. For real.... just kinda swamped with school so... yeah.
[[OH MY GOSH, LOOKIT THAT CUTIE-PATOOTIE. Az is always cute when perplexed. Silly baby.]]
[[OH NO, favorite fanfics are updating tonight. FEELINGS. FEELINGS.]]
"Rossiel?" Az called as she approached the home. She'd come by to check up on the girl, see if she was feeling any better after her run-in with Az's toxin. She'd felt awful about this and had brought a peace-offering to make up for it. She tapped at the door with the knob of bone on her tail-tip. "You alright in there?"
"Az? Er… h-hold on. I am… n-not decent," she called back, still startled by the lowered pitch of her voice as she fought her way into the loosest article of clothing she owned. The night-shift was tight about her shoulders, but it did not split the way her work-dress had, so it would have to do.
Hesitantly, she cracked open the door.
"I’ve torn the seams on my w-work-dress, and I suspect I shall have the same problem with any of my other clothes. S-Shoulders’re too broad." He served himself a few slices of cheese, following up a few bites of that with more wine. "S-So far I cannot seem to manage w-walking, I’m going to have to r-readjust to my harp with these hands, and… I’m almost afraid to ask how ellyn are supposed to relieve themselves.”
Az burst out laughing at-at… oh Horns, this was hilarious! Poor gir-guy, was in the dark and she couldn’t help but laugh.
"I’m not laughing at you," she glanced up from her palms, red in the face and tearing up, "It’s just… so, so- you really don’t know anything about boys?"
"Don’t you folks have the uh, Talk, about what makes ladies different from gentlemen?" By the Bull’s Hairy-Balls she was not going to be the one to give that spiel… wait, "Is there you anyone you can uh, borrow clothes from or at least talk to? Cousins? Father?"
Poor kid, this was going to be quite the learning experiance.
"Cheer up, if you have any pranks to pull," Az grinned cheekily, "Now is the time to do them."
"T-thing is, I wasn’t much more than a child when I left home, so the q-question never came up. Given the amount of wine I deem n-necessary—" (another glass) "—to make it through three days of this, it’s highly unlikely I can spend them without once having to make water. It is even more unlikely that I can make a thousand-mile ride to Mirkwood, in my nightclothes and with these… t-these bits flopping around, just to ask my ada or my muindor how it’s done.”
Oh… that’s unfortunate. No one to even ask.
"'I'd help you with the clothing situation if I could, but I don't wear pants," she mused, "Ah, but a couple of popped stitches isn't that bad is it? Don't you have a skirt or something, I've heard some human males wear skirts called kilts."
"It’s not all that bad y'know," she had to look up and oh that face wasn’t quite right at all. "Having lived with enough soldiers in war-camps in my lifetime, I’ll tell the only good bit about being a male, as I’ve observed okay?"
Az paused for dramatic-effect.
"You get to piss wherever you want," she said, "Creatively too."
"Rossiel?" Az called as she approached the home. She'd come by to check up on the girl, see if she was feeling any better after her run-in with Az's toxin. She'd felt awful about this and had brought a peace-offering to make up for it. She tapped at the door with the knob of bone on her tail-tip. "You alright in there?"
"Az? Er… h-hold on. I am… n-not decent," she called back, still startled by the lowered pitch of her voice as she fought her way into the loosest article of clothing she owned. The night-shift was tight about her shoulders, but it did not split the way her work-dress had, so it would have to do.
Hesitantly, she cracked open the door.
"A g-greycloak, I suspect. Sometimes they bring g-gifts — a few days of c-confidence or strength, say. Other times, they bring c-curses — a plague of chickens, or… this. Their decisions are entirely arbitrary." The Elf drank deeply.
"J-just addressing me as ‘you’ seems to work, but maybe it will be easier to accept if I c-call myself something else. I g-guess I’d be Ross…ion now.” Rossion curled and uncurled her— his fingers around the wineglass, frowning at them. Would this interfere with harp-playing, too?
"Ah, then it’s a good thing I have not yet had the chance to run afoul of a greycloak yet," she mused as she nibbled on thick slices of cheese and sausage.
"So," she swallowed and reached for the bread, "Why are you in your night-dress? And have you tested out your new body? Made sure everything is in working order?"
Sniggering, she puts her head in her paws, shaking with laughter.
"I’ve torn the seams on my w-work-dress, and I suspect I shall have the same problem with any of my other clothes. S-Shoulders’re too broad." He served himself a few slices of cheese, following up a few bites of that with more wine. "S-So far I cannot seem to manage w-walking, I’m going to have to r-readjust to my harp with these hands, and… I’m almost afraid to ask how ellyn are supposed to relieve themselves.”
Az burst out laughing at-at… oh Horns, this was hilarious! Poor gir-guy, was in the dark and she couldn’t help but laugh.
"I’m not laughing at you," she glanced up from her palms, red in the face and tearing up, "It’s just… so, so- you really don’t know anything about boys?"
"Don't you folks have the uh, Talk, about what makes ladies different from gentlemen?" By the Bull’s Hairy-Balls she was not going to be the one to give that spiel… wait, "Is there you anyone you can uh, borrow clothes from or at least talk to? Cousins? Father?"
Poor kid, this was going to be quite the learning experiance.
"Cheer up, if you have any pranks to pull," Az grinned cheekily, "Now is the time to do them."
"Rossiel?" Az called as she approached the home. She'd come by to check up on the girl, see if she was feeling any better after her run-in with Az's toxin. She'd felt awful about this and had brought a peace-offering to make up for it. She tapped at the door with the knob of bone on her tail-tip. "You alright in there?"
"Az? Er… h-hold on. I am… n-not decent," she called back, still startled by the lowered pitch of her voice as she fought her way into the loosest article of clothing she owned. The night-shift was tight about her shoulders, but it did not split the way her work-dress had, so it would have to do.
Hesitantly, she cracked open the door.
Yesch, whatever it was, Az did not want to catch it. “I am sorry, that sounds awful,” she set the food on the table, pulling out a heavy bottle of table-wine, only for the Elf, she reminded herself.
Looking up Az grinned at Rossiel finally noticing - huh- “Is there, uh, something different about you today?”
"My entire anatomy," Rossiel grumped, reaching immediately for the wine and pouring herself a generous glass. However long she would remain an ellon, she had the feeling she could either spend it sane, or sober. Not both.
"What?!"
O-oh, that would explain the hard-angles on the otherwise feminine face and oh, legs. Longer legs. Az had to know the how of this. Oh, this was hilarious, her tail twitched languidly.
"Who did you piss off to suddenly be a… male?" she’s struggling not to laugh and failing miserably. "And how do you want me to call you? He? Her? Or something else?"
"A g-greycloak, I suspect. Sometimes they bring g-gifts — a few days of c-confidence or strength, say. Other times, they bring c-curses — a plague of chickens, or… this. Their decisions are entirely arbitrary." The Elf drank deeply.
"J-just addressing me as ‘you’ seems to work, but maybe it will be easier to accept if I c-call myself something else. I g-guess I’d be Ross…ion now.” Rossion curled and uncurled her— his fingers around the wineglass, frowning at them. Would this interfere with harp-playing, too?
"Ah, then it's a good thing I have not yet had the chance to run afoul of a greycloak yet," she mused as she nibbled on thick slices of cheese and sausage.
"So," she swallowed and reached for the bread, "Why are you in your night-dress? And have you tested out your new body? Made sure everything is in working order?"
Sniggering, she puts her head in her paws, shaking with laughter.
"Rossiel?" Az called as she approached the home. She'd come by to check up on the girl, see if she was feeling any better after her run-in with Az's toxin. She'd felt awful about this and had brought a peace-offering to make up for it. She tapped at the door with the knob of bone on her tail-tip. "You alright in there?"
"Az? Er… h-hold on. I am… n-not decent," she called back, still startled by the lowered pitch of her voice as she fought her way into the loosest article of clothing she owned. The night-shift was tight about her shoulders, but it did not split the way her work-dress had, so it would have to do.
Hesitantly, she cracked open the door.
Stepping across the threshold Az barely glanced at the elf, focusing instead on not tracking in dirt.
"Mess?," The panniers across her back were heavy and she sat up on her haunches to pull the straps, setting the bags on the ground. "This is nothing compared to my mess," she replied conversationally as she pulled out bread, smoked meat, and cheese (yes, she paid for it, she’s not that desperate) looking for a table.
"You sick Rossiel? You’re voice is… uh, different."
"I… s-suppose you could say I am ill," she mused, leading Az to the dining-table somewhat clumsily on her lengthened legs. "I am certainly n-not myself at the very least.”
Yesch, whatever it was, Az did not want to catch it. “I am sorry, that sounds awful,” she set the food on the table, pulling out a heavy bottle of table-wine, only for the Elf, she reminded herself.
Looking up Az grinned at Rossiel finally noticing - huh- “Is there, uh, something different about you today?”
"My entire anatomy," Rossiel grumped, reaching immediately for the wine and pouring herself a generous glass. However long she would remain an ellon, she had the feeling she could either spend it sane, or sober. Not both.
"What?!"
O-oh, that would explain the hard-angles on the otherwise feminine face and oh, legs. Longer legs. Az had to know the how of this. Oh, this was hilarious, her tail twitched languidly.
"Who did you piss off to suddenly be a... male?" she's struggling not to laugh and failing miserably. "And how do you want me to call you? He? Her? Or something else?"
"Vile, vile lies!" Az shouted as she shut the door. Pesky, nosy folks....
"Rossiel?" Az called as she approached the home. She'd come by to check up on the girl, see if she was feeling any better after her run-in with Az's toxin. She'd felt awful about this and had brought a peace-offering to make up for it. She tapped at the door with the knob of bone on her tail-tip. "You alright in there?"
"Az? Er… h-hold on. I am… n-not decent," she called back, still startled by the lowered pitch of her voice as she fought her way into the loosest article of clothing she owned. The night-shift was tight about her shoulders, but it did not split the way her work-dress had, so it would have to do.
Hesitantly, she cracked open the door.
"Er… yes. F-food is good. Food is sensible." She opened the door further, with a come-in gesture. "F-forgive the mess. I’m in a… a bit of a state right now."
Stepping across the threshold Az barely glanced at the elf, focusing instead on not tracking in dirt.
"Mess?," The panniers across her back were heavy and she sat up on her haunches to pull the straps, setting the bags on the ground. "This is nothing compared to my mess," she replied conversationally as she pulled out bread, smoked meat, and cheese (yes, she paid for it, she’s not that desperate) looking for a table.
"You sick Rossiel? You’re voice is… uh, different."
"I… s-suppose you could say I am ill," she mused, leading Az to the dining-table somewhat clumsily on her lengthened legs. "I am certainly n-not myself at the very least.”
Yesch, whatever it was, Az did not want to catch it. "I am sorry, that sounds awful," she set the food on the table, pulling out a heavy bottle of table-wine, only for the Elf, she reminded herself.
Looking up Az grinned at Rossiel finally noticing - huh- "Is there, uh, something different about you today?"
"Rossiel?" Az called as she approached the home. She'd come by to check up on the girl, see if she was feeling any better after her run-in with Az's toxin. She'd felt awful about this and had brought a peace-offering to make up for it. She tapped at the door with the knob of bone on her tail-tip. "You alright in there?"
"Az? Er… h-hold on. I am… n-not decent," she called back, still startled by the lowered pitch of her voice as she fought her way into the loosest article of clothing she owned. The night-shift was tight about her shoulders, but it did not split the way her work-dress had, so it would have to do.
Hesitantly, she cracked open the door.
Peering through the slight opening, of course her view was low and all she could see were legs. “I just, uh, wanted to say that I was sorry about the accidental poisoning,” she pushed at the door, wanting to come in and drop off the gift, “I brought you a gift of uh, it’s really not a gift, more of a ‘food-makes-everything-better’ kind of gift.” Stepping back from the door she looked up to see if she could gauge Rossiel’s reaction on whether to leave the food, or stick around.
"Er… yes. F-food is good. Food is sensible." She opened the door further, with a come-in gesture. "F-forgive the mess. I’m in a… a bit of a state right now."
Stepping across the threshold Az barely glanced at the elf, focusing instead on not tracking in dirt.
"Mess?," The panniers across her back were heavy and she sat up on her haunches to pull the straps, setting the bags on the ground. "This is nothing compared to my mess," she replied conversationally as she pulled out bread, smoked meat, and cheese (yes, she paid for it, she's not that desperate) looking for a table.
"You sick Rossiel? You're voice is... uh, different."
"Rossiel?" Az called as she approached the home. She'd come by to check up on the girl, see if she was feeling any better after her run-in with Az's toxin. She'd felt awful about this and had brought a peace-offering to make up for it. She tapped at the door with the knob of bone on her tail-tip. "You alright in there?"
"Az? Er… h-hold on. I am… n-not decent," she called back, still startled by the lowered pitch of her voice as she fought her way into the loosest article of clothing she owned. The night-shift was tight about her shoulders, but it did not split the way her work-dress had, so it would have to do.
Hesitantly, she cracked open the door.
Peering through the slight opening, of course her view was low and all she could see were legs. "I just, uh, wanted to say that I was sorry about the accidental poisoning," she pushed at the door, wanting to come in and drop off the gift, "I brought you a gift of uh, it's really not a gift, more of a 'food-makes-everything-better' kind of gift." Stepping back from the door she looked up to see if she could gauge Rossiel's reaction on whether to leave the food, or stick around.
My character is very sick but refuses to stay in bed. What does your character do to keep them there?
submitted by anonymous
An old injury of my character's is acting up again. What does your character do to ease their pain?
Reblog if you want your followers to anonymously ask you anything they're curious about.
Reblog if you want a "why are you so..." in your ask.
Drabble: Abandoned Bits
With a huff, Az flopped onto the mattress sending dust into the air making her sneeze and wheeze.
I should really clean this place up, she mentally chided herself as she surveyed the room with a frown. She's really let the place go to hell but well, it's not like she intended to abandon it.
Yes you did, a sneaky thought answers.
Absently, she moved a paw through the little collection of odds and ends set on a low table at the head of the mattress. Foreign coins, candle stubs, broken glass, and a pair of cracked goggles sat there amongst dried-up marigolds.
Tipping the old goggles over to expose the open-case Az could feel the name scratched inside the casing:
'Albrecht Glosifianr. Sergeant major/SWO 1st Sol Expeditionary Force, Coaliton of Sol yr19/9864/03'
Reverently she wiped the dust from the lenses of the goggles, careful not to scratch the glass. Really, she couldn't remember why she'd even come in here, she usually slept in the front room away from... this.
Placing the goggles back on the table, Az sat up and exited the room closing the door behind her.
It's a good thing anniversaries only happen once a year.
Writing Bits: Tarot Meme/The Sun
The Sun:Describe a childhood memory.
Does it have to be a pleasant one? Fine. Childhood memory... uh, oh. As a kid one of my favorite things to do was antagonize these- uh- elentaurs. They had a single antler, hard scaled armour along their backs, horribly sharp hooves, and were a pain in the tail. I've broken more teeth on those scales than I care to count.
Anyway, so there's this one elen, and he was about the same height as me, a little older and an ass. I only bothered them because well, if something is that well-protected it must be tasty under that armour. Yes the reasoning was flawed but, I kept at it. So yes, this one elentaur. I'd keep trying to reach a vulnerable spot (and failing) and it eventually sort of... turned into a mutual maybe-friends thing. With the desire to harm each other.
Now this was about the time humans began to pour out of that portal and settle in our world. I'm not going to re-hash that story since everyone knows it already. So, humans get here and they'd brought these things that kind of looked like elentaurs, Moors, and Ligniquois but with only one toe on each foot. Apparently, someone had thought to change them to resemble a creature from the human's myths.
One day, as I was harassing my poor maybe-friend, Huerin, he stops close to one of the enclosures of these altered things and tells me that those things in the pen with their shiny fur and pointed horns were elentaurs too. I took one look at them with their unprotected bodies, long-faces, that damn horn, and decided that they would be less trouble than my friend.
I slunk close to the pen that night and lifted the latch, gods my sire would have been amused at that, and pulled one out of the pen squealing and thrashing. I didn't have the technique for crushing a throat perfected and suddenly, there were these things (I now know they are called bullets) flying at me. I was stupidly stubborn, it was mine now why were they putting up such a fuss? I eventually had to retreat, bullets stinging my backside, into the woods as Huerin laughed his head-off.
Stupid thing. It's not exactly pleasant but it is a nice-ish memory. I learned a good deal that day, that those things (horses and their changed cousins, unecorns) were delicious and to never trust anything that comes from an elentaur's mouth.
That is how I ended up raiding livestock-pens when Glos found me.