TYR LARSEN

137 | Judge | Harpy | Father of 8

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Michael Kohlhaas, 2013.

By: thejennire

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Mads Mikkelsen in Michael Kohlhaas (2013), pt. 2/2

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Mads Mikkelsen Photographer - Carlos Serrao For Flaunt Magazine.

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tillykke med fødselsdagen mads ♥ | november 22nd 1965

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[tyrlarsen]

Hey, guys! 

Sorry I haven’t been around these past couple of days. I’m in the process of moving, but I’ll definitely be on tomorrow. I’ll be on then to work on replies, throw up a starter, and to plot. For now, I’m heading off to bed, though, so goodnight!

[sympathyforthecannibal]

mads by hideo

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#HannibalAdvent: Coquilles

By: thejennire

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Mads Mikkelsen by Kenneth Willardt

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[seth-abrams]

The Pelican Shore was by far Sebastian’s favorite place. The water was always so inviting, and the aquatic life there were very kind. He laid down on a large rock, with his tail and lower half of his body submerged in the water. It was a quiet evening, until he heard someone walking along the sandy shore. Sebastian stretched his arms out over his head and sat up, “Evenin’! Comin’ to see the sun set?”

[tyrlarsen]

The Pelican Shore was a fantastic place to trap crabs, which was something Tyr typically came to do once or twice a month. He preferred to come at odd hours, or during the coldest time of the year, when it was far too cold for anyone to enjoy the waters. Well, not anyone, just sirens. Some of them had a tendency to make things a tad awkward for him.

Tyr’s lips spread into a thin smile the moment he noticed the siren, his thin brow rising at the surprising sight. The tail didn’t shock him, no, it was actually the fact that the handsome young man was... well, in the water in this weather. Sure, it had stopped snowing, and the sun was out, but it was still below freezing. “Ah, something like that.” He stepped forward, a crab trap and tackle box under one arm. The presence of the siren wasn’t going to deter him from trapping a fresh dinner, especially not after he spend a good half an hour putting on several layers of clothes, there was also the off chance the man didn’t give a damn about the fate of his little sea friends. “Aren’t you cold? It’s close to seven degrees out here.”

[tyrlarsen]

OKDAD profile

•   TYR LARSEN   •  137 YEARS OLD  •  HARPY   •  MAGISTRATE JUDGE   • 8 CHILDREN

My name’s Tyr, I have an intense passion for justice and– believe it or not– bureaucracy. My hobbies include ruining people’s days by setting their bails; signing search warrants to raid their homes; and building disturbingly detailed dioramas. I have a rather large family– eight children, most of which are over eighteen, and six grandchildren.

About how long do you want your next relationship to last?

As long as the fates allow.

What word best describes you?

Old. Oh, you mean my personality? 

What’s your favorite romantic activity?

It’s a tie between winter carriage rides and slow dancing.

What are 5 things you can’t live without?

My kids, sleep, art, music, fruits and justice.

[tyrlarsen]

Top or Bottom

As a public official, answering such questions would be entirely inappropriate, especially on an online medium available to anyone who’d bother downloading the app. He wasn’t about to risk his career for some ass, so, after staring at the question for what felt like an eternity, Tyr deleted the message and returned to his day to day activities. Honestly, he was still shocked someone would simply ask that without any introduction what so ever. 

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Another press conference over with, maybe he shed some light on the state of Evercrest. A hand combed through his dark tresses, leaving from his office for the day. Since he had nothing else to do for the day, he could’ve always drunk himself into a coma but drinking wasn’t what he did being in the public eye and all. A methodical stride along the passageway, both of his hands in the pockets of his pants, whistling to himself and scanning his eyes over the scenery of the town. For as long as he had lived in Evercrest, he never took the time to really appreciate the beautiful sight.

[tyrlarsen]

Bubbles, the golden doodle clad in blue sweater and red booties had taken a detour-- a detour that led to a pair of particularly peculiar smelling trees. Well, at least that’s how it looked to Tyr, he didn’t really quite understand why dogs did what they did, nor was he particularly interested in finding out. She’d been sniffing at the same spot for a minute now when he noticed the rather stern looking man passing by and the way the man’s eyes seemed to take in the view around him. 

“Quaint, isn’t it?” Tyr called out, not very loud, as he wasn’t that far from the stranger but loud enough to garner his attention. “There’s something about winter that makes the town seem much smaller, much more delicate than it really is.” He turned his head, gaze drifting towards the town around them. “It is one of the most serene towns I’ve ever lived, though.”

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