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@weepingshadesofindigo
reblog this if you’re an indie roleplaying blog with both an LGBTQIA+ mun and LGBTQIA+ muse(s).
i’m trying to get an idea of how large portion of the indie rp community consists of queer muses being written and represented by queer people themselves. allies, don’t interact.
“Do centaurs have sex?” Please somebody, anybody- give him answers!
cajunspoons:
Spoons blinked, then smiled a bright, toothy smile. “Oh, you’re so sweet! ..I don’t usually talk about. Bad feelings?” She sounded a little nervous, as if it was bad to even admit she ever felt negatively.
Too bad Pucc didn’t know Spoons was fluent in Spanish.
“Thank you, sugah. That means a lot to me, it really does.”
She couldn’t help giving him another hug, shorter this time.
“You’re a good guy, Pucc.”
“Everyone needs to air ‘em out sometimes. If you keep too many of them bottled up you might fry your circuits!” Pucc nodded sagely and returned her hug.
Maybe she liked her privacy, or already had a friend to dump her worries on. Hopefully it was the latter- though he was more than happy to listen if the job wasn’t taken.
“You really think so?” The synth smiled wide. “ Coming from you that’s huge!”
𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻
repost, don’t reblog !
𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 !
FULL NAME. Pucc, Eric Ramos Malavé (designated) NICKNAME. Weirdo GENDER. cis male HEIGHT. 5′9″ AGE. 28-33 ZODIAC. Scorpio SPOKEN LANGUAGES. Spanish (1st) and English (2nd)
𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !
HAIR COLOR. Brunette, darker at the roots. EYE COLOR. Rich brown with a reflective quality. SKIN TONE. Medium to dark skin, olive undertones. BODY TYPE. Average build, notably stronger around the limbs. VOICE. Rambly and full of different tones. Switches emotions abruptly. DOMINANT HAND. Left POSTURE. Casual but upright. SCARS. One over the nape that trails both up to the back of his skull and down his spine. Others scattered around his arms and legs. But he’s basically clear of wounds compared to any other wastelander. TATTOOS. None. BIRTHMARKS. None MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). His stubborn expression and (with his hair up) the surgical scar at the back of his neck.
𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !
PLACE OF BIRTH. The Institute HOMETOWN. ? SIBLINGS. None. PARENTS. None.
𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !
OCCUPATION. Artist, Sculptor and handyman around Acadia. CURRENT RESIDENCE. Acadia, Far Harbor (Maine). CLOSE FRIENDS. Spoons, Billie (Other OC). RELATIONSHIP STATUS. Single FINANCIAL STATUS. Settler money? DRIVER’S LICENSE. No CRIMINAL RECORD. Obstruction of “justice”... VICES. None.
𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !
SEXUAL ORIENTATION. Gay PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE. submissive | dominant | switch. PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. submissive | dominant | switch. LIBIDO. Average TURN ON’S. Face cupping, a hand over the waist, holding eye contact. TURN OFF’S. conservatism, rudeness LOVE LANGUAGE. Complete transparency, shared laughter and a lot of embracing. RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. Tends to like men with passions and ambitions regardless of where they land on the karma scale. Or men who show their emotions and allow themselves to be vulnerable (even if just for a second).
𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !
CHARACTER’S THEME SONG. HOBBIES TO PASS TIME. Sketching, molding faces and dismantling radios. MENTAL ILLNESS. MDD, Anxiety (in recovery!) PHOBIAS. (Active Impostor Syndrome), People knowing who his original was, seeing people his original was acquainted with, etc. SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL. Medium to low, but he’s working on it! He’s trying his best to be a positive presence from now on. VULNERABILITIES. Questions about his ‘original’, harsh criticism about his art and manipulation.
Tagged by: I stole this a long time ago but never finished filling it out lmao.
cajunspoons:
“You’re so tall!” Spoons giggled, giving him a good, friendly squeeze. She didn’t linger too long, not wanting to make Pucc uncomfortable, but it was clear he’d definitely pleased her. She was practically glowing she was smiling so much.
“Anytime, sha. Anytime.”
“You know...” Pucc drew his arms away, yet the press of her squeeze lingered long after their hug. “I’m always here for you too. You’ve listened to me so often, but you’ve never really said much about your own feelings.”
His brows knitted inwards as he tried to find the right words. Really, he knew them in Spanish where his most intimate emotions laid. But English had a way of tangling his thoughts and warping them with inflections he was unaccustomed to. “What I’m trying to say- is that I’m your friend too. If you ever need anything you just have to ask.”
cajunspoons:
Spoons just blinked a few times, unsure if she heard that right. The gears in her head slowly turned, then she smiled.
“Really? You’d hug me?” That was more touching than any gift he could have come up with. She held her arms out, holding an imaginary breath.
“Yes, please!”
Their height differences made his attempt awkward at first, but he managed to wrap his arms around Spoons finally. Squeezing the plating of her back in an earnest show of affection.
“Thank you for being my friend.” Pucc wasn’t sure what had prompted him to say that, but he’d felt it bubbling up his throat- “And thanks for always listening.”
cajunspoons:
“You’d look cute in ‘em too!” Spoons insisted with a bright smile.
“It’s no trouble. It’s kinda my thang?” she tilted her head. “I like gettin’ things for people who can’t get ‘em themselves. I can go places others can’t.” She didn’t expand on that for obvious reasons.
She blinked in surprise. “F-for me?” She pressed a hand to her chest to emphasize. “I dunno. I don’t really need? anything?”
“Really?”
Pucc found that hard to believe. Everyone needed something to varying degrees. It didn’t always have to be physical- it could be emotional or driven by a certain mood. Maybe Spoons chose not to be presumptuous despite her endless generosity.
“Well, how about...” He looked around shyly, unable to look her directly in the eye just then. “A hug?”
cajunspoons:
“I posed for ‘em once!” she admitted with a laugh. “It was a robot edition. Did the whole bunny ears thing ‘n everything. Uh. That was a long, long time ago, though.”
She laughed again, especially when he shuddered. “Yeah, I imagine not. Nice anatomy, though, yeah? Ya know, they make those wit’ men, too. Made! I meant made. In the past. Heh.” Smooth.
“A cat, huh? We can do that!”
“For real?” Pucc brushed over her mistake with ease. “I bet the bunny ears looked great on you!” And they probably looked just as cute on men. He wondered briefly if he should make a pair for himself!
“Oh! I don’t wanna cause you any more trouble. You’ve already given me these tools and I’m not sure how to even thank you...” Despite his want for novelty items, it wouldn’t be fair to take advantage of Spoons’ more generous nature. He’d be a terrible friend if he did.
“Maybe there’s something I could do for you?”
cajunspoons:
Spoons mentally added pencils to her shopping list. And paper. She probably should have also wondered how she was going to explain these things to Pucc, who still had no idea where she came from or how she went.
“Oh!” Spoons was surprised by that, but she couldn’t help a little chuckle. “Those magazines, huh?”
“A person very close to me makes masks. He also designs face plates for robots, but mostly just masks. I should bring ya one. Might inspire you. Sometimes it’s nice to be someone else for a little while.”
“You know the ones? I told the guys, I said, if they ever found reference material of the human body I’d pay for it in the tens. Now I’ve got a bunch of issues!” Pucc laughed to himself.
“I know it’s porn- and not my kind of porn at all.” The images of hetero pornography flashed across his mind like vestiges of a long forgotten nightmare. He shuddered. “Hey, at least I’m better at drawing women now. That’s a plus!”
The synth wasn’t sure how to respond after she’d explained. It would be nice to be someone else, sure, but he worked so hard just to be himself- “I’d like that.” Pucc put on his brightest smile, not wanting to lower the mood again. “Maybe an animal mask. Something like a cat!”
cajunspoons:
The half smile faded, brows pressing downwards. She already worried about Pucc, but this was taking a darker route than she had expected. When he sighed, she reached over to gently squeeze his shoulder.
“That is important. Prolly the most important, in mah opinion.”
Spoons could only imagine how lost Pucc had been when he first came here. She was experienced with other sorts of mechs being similarly lost, unsure of their purpose once freed of human ownership. She thought it must be the same.
“Do you do other art? Like.. painting or origami?” A sudden thought entered her head. “What do you think about masks?”
“I draw when I’m not sculpting. But it’s hard to find pencils or pens that actually work. So I use charcoal.”
Pucc lifted his gaze and wondered. As if he’d find an answer somewhere overhead. “I’ve never seen a real mask. Only in magazines where the women wear rabbit ears.” The ‘other man’ might have seen them in his lifetime. Though if he had they merely existed as vague impressions within Pucc’s slew of memories. Washes of color where faces should have been.
“Um, why do you ask? Do you see a lot of masks where you’re from?”
cajunspoons:
Spoons blinked at that answer. Not what she had been expecting.
Now, Spoons had had her own version of death several times, each time assuming it would be the last time she’d open her eyes. There was always months or even a full decade between ‘dying’ and waking up again, but the memories were all still there. Still, it wasn’t like the death of a human, or so she assumed.
She wasn’t sure what synths would experience. She tried not to give it much thought.
“Funny?” She gave him a small half-smile. She knew, of course, what he meant. Touched. Crazy. Different.
“Are you supposed to understand death?” she wondered.
“Yeah, funny.” Pucc was stripped of his humor. There was something lurking beyond the boundaries of his mind which made him frown. Or perhaps it was something already deeply embedded. A presence reaching for the reigns.
“Probably not. But it doesn’t matter if I’m supposed to. It’s about wanting an answer.” The synth let out a sigh and looked oddly deflated. His shoulders drooping slightly. Perhaps there were things he should keep to himself.
“What’s important is that I’m happy. You should have seen me before. I was all over the place!” Though some would say he still was. “Art’s the only thing that makes any goddamn sense anymore. Without it I wouldn’t be here.”
cajunspoons:
At that, Spoons gave her best lopsided smile.
“Oh, you have no idea,” she replied with a wink. She wiped her thumb clean on the leg of her jeans.
“So what got ya into sculptin’ in the first place?” she asked. It seemed an odd hobby for the wasteland.
Pucc held up the clay to his face and mirrored the smile further. Unable to break the expression once it had taken hold, his answer might have seemed disingenuous. “Death.”
It was ever on his mind. He felt it even, remembering the pain and the utter loss of his own life. Well, back when he wasn’t actually himself but another man. Swimming, falling, twisting, swerving and reaching for things. For a chance at surviving maybe. Watching reality pan out of view like a reflection that slowly drifted into an abyss. People look at the color black and see a single shade. But Pucc knows the difference between each level of night. He’s seen the darkest one of all.
Those were the memories he couldn’t ignore or suppress. It made his hands restless and clouded his mind with interminable questions. Until he began to create... “I’ve felt things you wouldn’t believe, Spoons. Terrible, wonderful things. My mind is wrecked with it- I think it’s made me ‘funny’. And nothing makes sense when you’re all ‘funny’.”
Finally, his smile dropped. Like the turn of one program ticking to another. “But when I’m sculpting it feels like I’m getting somewhere. Each time it feels like I’m drawing closer to an answer. Even death could be made comprehensible...”
“I met another machine today! I hope we can be friends.” :)
cajunspoons:
Spoons carefully inspected the joints of her thumb, then experimentally left another impression, this time slightly more shallow. She tilted her head thoughtfully.
“Smooth? Oh! Yeah, I don’t have fingerprints.“ She lifted her hands, palms out, towards Pucc. “Guess that makes me good at robberies.”
She dragged her thumb in an arc under the two thumb indentations, making a crude smiley face.
He just had to laugh, mirroring the smile on the clay. “Not like it matters anymore. Even if you left prints behind, nobody nowadays could do anything about it.”
Well, he wondered if the Institute could. They’ve gone through all that trouble grafting the rights marks on his fingers- there’s probably a catalog somewhere...”Though in the old days, when it mattered, you’d be getting away with murder too. Whatever you wanted, really.”
cajunspoons:
Well, now Spoons felt bad. It wasn’t Pucc’s intention in the least, she knew. He just wanted to share something he loved with a friend.
“No, no, it’s okay! I’m just not good at bein’ creative on mah own. Singin’, sure, but…” She trailed off, staring now at the clay. Before she could rethink her choices yet again, she plunged a thumb into the wet clay, letting it sink in.
“Oh! Well. That’s satisfyin’, ain’t it?” she half-chuckled, surprised at herself.
Pucc had already started to pack away his pieces when she pitched her surprise. Carefully, he inspected the shallow groove left behind by her thumb. ”Interesting. Your hands are entirely smooth, right?”
There was an odd spark in his eyes as he observed Spoons’ hands. Light catching in his pupils like a cat’s. “Mine emulate skin, so the texture leaves prints on the clay. But I’m guessing yours don’t?”
cajunspoons:
Spoons was just enthused to see Pucc so happy. She was all grins – at least until he offered the clay to her.
Her eyes widened and she looked … embarrassed. Almost nervous.
“Me?” she squeaked. “Oh. Oh, I dunno… I’m not really. Sculpting is more, well it’s not really my thing. And, and the clay would get all in my finger joints.”
She wiggled her fingers in the air for emphasis.
“Besides. What would I even make?”
“Anything! You could mold it any which way and I’d be happy with the results.”
He noticed, despite Spoons’ limited features, the apprehension in her expression. Was it something he’d done? “Um- Well...” Fear or embarrassment in the face of creation wasn’t something he could understand. There was nothing so freeing than twisting an object at will. But he wondered if he was ever meant to truly understand other people. All he could hope to do now was sympathize.
“I’m sorry. I’ve put you on the spot, haven’t I?” Pucc let out a sigh and nodded to himself. Seemingly having answered his own question. “Lets put this away then.”
