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Not today Justin

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@ugnies
Quick notice that I won't be active til the 10th of May!
Muse Body Language
bold what you apply to your muse.
DEFENSIVENESS:
arms crossed on chest // crossing legs // fist-like gestures // pointing index finger // karate chops // stiffening of shoulders // tense posture // curling of lip/baring of teeth
REFLECTIVE:
hand-to-face gestures // head tilted // stroking chin // peering over glasses // taking glasses off — cleaning // putting earpiece of glasses in mouth // pipe smoker gestures // putting hand to bridge of nose // pursed lips // knitted brows
SUSPICION:
arms crossed // sideways glance // touching or rubbing nose // rubbing eyes // hands resting on weapon // brows raising // lips pressing into a thin line // strict, unwavering eye contact // wrinkling of nose
OPENNESS & COOPERATION:
open hands // upper body in sprinters position // sitting on edge of chair // hand-to-face gestures // unbuttoned coat // tilted head // slacked shoulders, droopy posture // feet pointed outward // palms flat and facing outward
CONFIDENCE:
hands behind back // hands on lapels of coat // steepled hands // baring teeth in a grin // rolling shoulders // tipping head back but maintaining eye contact // chest puffed up/shoulders back // arms folded just above navel // leaning against something
INSECURITY & ANXIETY:
chewing pen or pencil // rubbing thumb over opposite thumb // biting fingernails // hands in pockets // elbow bent/closed gestures // clearing throat // “whew” sound // picking or pinching flesh // fidgeting in chair // hand covering mouth whilst speaking // poor eye contact // tugging at pants whilst seated // jingling money in pockets // tugging at ear // perspiring hands // playing with hair //swaying // playing with pointer/marker // smacking lips // sighing // rocking on balls of feet // flexing fingers sporadically
FRUSTRATION:
short breaths // “tsk” sounds // tightly-clenched hands // fist-like gestures // pointing index finger // rubbing hand through hair // rubbing back of neck // snarling // revealing teeth/grimacing // sharp-eyed glowers w/ notable tension in brow // shoulders back, head up — defensive posturing // clenching of jaw/grinding teeth // nostrils flaring // heavy exhales
Want a random starter?
Send me a symbol…
🎬 for me to use a line from the last movie I watched as a starter 📹 for me to use a line from my favorite movie as a starter 📚 for me to grab the book nearest to me, flip to a random page, and use the first line of dialogue I see as a starter 🎧 for me to shuffle my playlist and use the first line of the next song as a starter 🎶 for me to use my favorite line of the last song I listened to as a starter 📺 for me to use a line from the last TV show I watched as a starter 💻 for me to use a line from my favorite TV show as a starter 🎵for me to shuffle my playlist and use my favorite line of the next song as a starter 😊 for me to make a starter based off the first thing in your wanted plots tag 😉 for me to make a starter based off the first thing in my wanted plots tag 💋 for a shippy starter 😡 for an angsty starter 👊 for an argument/fight starter 🌈 for a random encounter starter 🏩 for a nsfw starter 📫 for a text message starter 💀 for a dark starter 🍬 for a fluffy starter
Existential Crisis Sentence Starters
For interactions in which your muses feel like having a deep, terrifying discussion about life.
“I wish I could go back.” “Did your life turn out the way you expected it would?” “Sometimes I think if I just did one thing differently, maybe none of this would have happened.” “What if we ran out of goals? What would we live for after that?” “I feel like I wasted too much of my time.” “Do you ever get that feeling like you’ve lost something you can never get back, but you don’t know what is was?” “I find myself missing things that I didn’t truly appreciate when I had them.” “Where do you think you would be if we never met?” “I hate thinking about the past and wondering if I ruined everything.” “Would you start over if you had the chance?” “I wish we could slow the whole world down.” “If you could take back one mistake, what would it be?” “If you didn’t wake up tomorrow, would you be satisfied with today?” “Sometimes my body just doesn’t feel real.” “I’m terrified looking up at the sky. It reminds me of how small I am.” “I wonder, in the grand scheme of things, if anything we do will make a difference.” “Do you ever get that feeling that you just don’t matter?” “Sometimes I forget that I’m a person. I just go through the motions.” “I think what you’ve got is called ‘dissociation’.” “Nothing feels real anymore.” “Don’t you get anxious when you realize time just keeps going and going?” “I sort of envy people who don’t get anxiety over just existing.” “You never know how much time you have left.” “Just think about how big the world is. You’re not even a drop in the bucket, we’re more like molecules in a drop.” “Do you really think, hundreds of years from now, anything we do will mean a thing?” “Maybe I need to stop thinking so much and just live.” “If you keep worrying, you won’t get anything done except for worry.” “Maybe we shouldn’t think so deeply about it. In the end, I’m not sure it matters.” “What do you want to be remembered for?” “How long do you think people will still talk about us after we’re gone?” “I think as long as you lived your life how you feel was right, it’s never a waste.” “Do you think everything happens for a reason?” “I’m not sure if fate is real, or if things just happen because they happen.” “There’s never enough time. You just have to make use of what you have.”
Want a random starter?
Send me a symbol…
🎬 for me to use a line from the last movie I watched as a starter 📹 for me to use a line from my favorite movie as a starter 📚 for me to grab the book nearest to me, flip to a random page, and use the first line of dialogue I see as a starter 🎧 for me to shuffle my playlist and use the first line of the next song as a starter 🎶 for me to use my favorite line of the last song I listened to as a starter 📺 for me to use a line from the last TV show I watched as a starter 💻 for me to use a line from my favorite TV show as a starter 🎵for me to shuffle my playlist and use my favorite line of the next song as a starter 😊 for me to make a starter based off the first thing in your wanted plots tag 😉 for me to make a starter based off the first thing in my wanted plots tag 💋 for a shippy starter 😡 for an angsty starter 👊 for an argument/fight starter 🌈 for a random encounter starter 🏩 for a nsfw starter 📫 for a text message starter 💀 for a dark starter 🍬 for a fluffy starter
—— ❝ Whoa, hey, is that fire ? I wish I still had my foxflames. We could make a ginormous fire ! ❞
→ @ugnies
Her enthusiasm startles him, but it’s refreshing and welcome. FP smiles from ear to ear at the realization of what she was saying.
“I bet your fire is very beautiful!” it then occurs to him that she’s without it, which causes a tilt of head. “Was it taken from you?”
pyro-latry:
The tips of her fingers are glowing, as if super-heated, fingers curled to create forges in her palms. Willow is a strange sort, with a nervous smile and hair like a chandelier. It’s not every day, that she gets to meet someone else who works so carefully with fire. Granted, she often finds herself battling temptation when it comes to matters of pyrotechnics.
“I’ve, never been able to do that. Not with fire at least.” There are the shadows, but they take a great deal of her concentration.
So, she settles for her name.
“Willow. Willow Clarke. What about you? Have a name?”
Her supposed strangeness is hardly noted, even bypassed by a boy sometimes surrounded by creatures both wonderful and horrid. She mentions her inability to perform the task, to which he's curious of. Her fire spoke a very different language from the one he knew, but it seemed trustworthy; he's sure one day she'd figure it out. If it didn't hurt her, it's obvious she was meant to do great things with it. Willow...like a tree. It sounded nice, but he's too shy to say it yet. Maybe after pronouncing it a few times. "In your language I think my name is Delphos, but you can call me FP if you want." there's a pause, as he tries to push past his embarrassing naming situation-- "--do you know a lot of humans that can do what you do?"
myrtlemistified:
☁ ❝ Do you mean… You eat leaves and vegetation within the forest? ❞
It was never a big deal back home, but then he hadn’t needed to resort to stationary forests either. Somehow they’d all gotten by hunting Wildetrees, which tended to cluster on the plains in lieu of forests where they might lose sight of each other.
“Yes...sometimes. But here, I don’t know what else to eat.” The moment he’d learned that someone lived there, it became a topic of stress. “Is there coal here? Or maybe a fireplace someone doesn’t mind my staying in for a while?”
bunjijumping:
“It would be a really bad idea because a lot of people and Pokemon live there, myself included. Though… I can’t help but wonder what you mean by ‘eat the forest’.”
"That...makes sense. Sorry." he chews on his lip, suddenly perplexed. "Even just two trees? I'm feeling pretty sick--" Back home, herds of Leafelope were in abundance and didn't cause as much potential collateral damage. FP is fairly confident he won't make a ruckus, but he can understand this girl's concern. "I promise I'll be careful. I can even take them away somewhere else first if it helps."
kindergardening:
“Do it.”
She… has no idea what he means but she definitely wants to see it happen..
He blinks, unsure he heard her right.
"Really? No one will mind? It'll only be one or two trees." Oedipuss paws at him indignantly, causing a glance to the heel. "Er--three trees."
coeurmet:
With the amount of disasters that regularly strike just outside her front door, Fionna is earnestly surprised things still manage to grow there. The small patches of char caused by the pride are, in the long run, negligible– and will likely yield something interesting, if left alone. Hoisting Cake up to keep a good grip, she moves to set her sister on the couch, making a little ‘shhh’ motion at BMO when the small machine pops up over the arm. While Flame Prince is distracted by the decor (and now that she thinks about it, he never really got to see much but her room, did he?) she drops her backpack gingerly. Unbuckling the spare pouch from around her hips, she sets it beside Cake so her sister will she it when she wakes– they’d worked hard for the contents, after all. When her attention turns back toward the flame elemental, she’s greeted by gesturing, which draws her attention to his chest and– –oh crackerjacks, he’s half-naked again. She’s not sure where his shirt’s gone, but at least it’s not just the loincloth this time, she reasons as she tries to parse the motions he’s making. This would be much easier if Cake were awake to translate, but before she can get too far in attempting to figure it out herself, his motions change and… Marshmallows? Cocking her head at him, Fionna takes a step closer, then peers at the one he’s holding in hand, eyes widening as she realizes it’s toasting between his fingers. With a laugh, she gets (some, she thinks) of the current topic at hand, and presses her thumb and index finger into the marshmallow as if to take it from him.
“Yeah,” she assures, laughter bubbling up, and holds out her hand to take the rest of the bag before the container suffers the same fate as the marshmallow in his grip. “I do, actually. Thanks, FP.”
She's got that expression again, one that he can only guess is of embarrassment. It's not something he understands, and it's half the reason he feels so bad about damaging the gift. The other half, of course, being how much effort Cake put into it. It doesn't last long though, replaced instead by definitely not understanding the point he was trying to get across. FP frowns hard, unsatisfied and frustrated. It felt like part of his brain was nearly empty, and he always had to struggle to grab and put the few words floating around in it together. How long would it take to fill it up?
He perhaps pushes the bag at her in a rush due to his own chagrin, but it somehow saves the day. As her face lights up, and he's watching it carefully as she inspects the gift, so does his. Just like that, the embarrassment boiling in the pit of his stomach is gone. He rubs the back of his neck, glancing off. "I-I'm happy." There's an awkward few moments of silence after that--thankfully BMO manages to distract him with an accidental noise. He notices the other bag then--she'd been carrying that, hadn't she? What was in it? Where had they gone? He gestures at the mysterious bag next to Cake, not really considering that it was probably not his business. “Fionna?”
Meet FP! (=`ω´=) ❂ Part fire elemental, part Tarzan ❂ 19 / very tall / sometimes half-naked ❂ Speaks a dialect of cat! ❂ Easily embarrassed ❂ Entirely too cuddly for someone made of fire ❂ Makes a mean batch of smores ❂ No weapon, only punch ❂ Incredibly gullible ❂ y’know, like....nyah?
“Seek wisdom in books, rare manuscripts, and cryptic poems if you will, but seek it out also in simple stones, and fragile herbs, and in the cries of wild birds. Listen to the whisperings of the wind and the roar of water if you would discover magic, for it is here that the old secrets are preserved.”
- Scott Cunningham
pyro-latry:
She’s not sure how she makes these things. The fire comes rather naturally, crawling over her arm and with a shake of her shoulders, spreads across her body like a second skin. Cloaked in the flame, she grins from beneath it.
Flames and her go hand in hand, in her forging and destroying and surviving. She’s an ancient thing, a guardian and a victim of her island.
“Yeah, born human, still human.” Willow flexes her fingers, curling them into her palm. “I’ve never met a flame I couldn’t work with.”
Though she says that, he’s still hesitant to touch her--for fear of hurting her as well as a general respect for personal space. No matter how much his curiousity asks of it, he refuses. Delphos grins, opening his own palm to manipulate a tiny sphere of fire. His influence here was weakened for some reason, but it seemed limited to combat. He presses his fire into hers, allowing them to intermingle and change. The fire grows cool, red, and warps into the muddled shape of a small dragon. He’s not a great artist yet, but it’s distinguishable enough. The dragon flares its wings and coughs up a weak fireball before disintegrating into the original two flames. He takes a step back again.
“It likes you. What’s your name?”
pyro-latry:
“Just watch.” Her voice is steady, though, she carries a little bit of excitement, a bit of youth in her words. “It’s real cool.” With that, she snaps, and flame erupts in her right palm, crackling happily against her hand, curling about like a good friend.
To be quite honest, he doesn’t believe his eyes. Delphos blinks several times, staring hard at her hand. He’d never met someone like her--well, living out in the wilderness most of his life hadn’t afforded him the chance to meet a lot of people, but it was still bizarre. He gently reaches to cradle the fire, not touch it--he’s communicating with it, somehow. It’s a separate entity altogether from anything he’s ever met. “You’re human.” he finally decides, “But it doesn’t hurt you?”
pyro-latry:
She grins, waving a hand around her own head as she speaks.
“I like the look, really. It reminds me of something I like to do.”
“Like to...do?” he wracks his brain for what she might mean, but can’t decide. Didn’t humans normally avoid fire? “What do you mean?”
“Hey! You look nice today-!”
Oh no! You’ve made him blush! “T-Thank you-”