[ysurpr]

calamitousheir :

Voicing the offensive complaint warranted not only a sparse glare but a dismissive glance after. If he weren’t appreciating what wonders fishing bestowed, then he should’ve declined. and frankly, noctis anticipated a refusal, he had yet to comprehend what went through his head offering in the first place. Forwarded comments when the fish were too small or he was supposedly taking a long time to finish up per the usual before engulfed in silence and occasional praises of accomplishment once he shored up a mighty prize. Overall, he could never settle on catching one or two, especially if the active ones – who couldn’t particularly care what lure was used or their attention was very easily captured – happened to be of the same species while there had to be at least four or five coexisting, and what better the hobby than attempting to catch all that existed? The last his patience could handle was another. ❛ Why would it? It’s not as engaging. If I am to be honest, I’d fall asleep throughout the entire thing. ❜

   the look he gives the younger is thankfully missed due to him being so caught up in his current task of reeling in another catch. it seemed the longer he remained around noctis and his loyal buffoons, the more he learned about them. this was a reluctant dose of unneeded information because it mattered none to his plans and goals-- yet it either humored him or downright egged on his curiosity. one being why noctis invited a man he loudly announced to be creepy and strange. refusal had been on the tip of his tongue, but that wouldn’t exactly clear up any suspicions for further interactions. remain harmless, for now. a struggle, but ardyn was managing. he’d throw out a praise here and there when the young heir caught something that wasn’t the size of his pinky, adding to noctis’ joy in the moment. but he could not bite back his snide remarks about the chosen hobby.  ❝  chess engages your mind, boy. it requires your wit to navigate a battlefield and outsmart your opponent, much like how the real world works. as a king, one must know how to conquer and use all at his disposal for victory. ❞  his tone is close to vexation over the matter, hand waving the topic away like it was an annoying fly.  ❝  i assume sleeping on the throne and spending his time fishing is the new...lucis custom. ❞

[ysurpr]

lunarbranded :

“Ugh.” Noctis jogged a bit to try to keep up with the taller man’s strides, finding the combination of heat and distraction of food to be a bit taxing. To be fair, it all smelled so damn good that it was unfair. “Any particular place we’re going? Because I’m about to lose myself in some of this food. Has to be some form of torture.”

   surely if this was his choice of torture, he has all but lost his touch. no, this little adventure was merely any means of harm ( though it could change ) and more about ardyn sating the sides of him that he’s all but stolen. while the food usually wouldn’t tempt him, he finds himself more than eagerly sweeping ever so graceful among the crowds of people to pause near a stand. at his curious gaze and calm request, a skewer is held out for him and noctis.  ❝  then by all means, lose yourself. what good is a festival if you don’t indulge in one of the seven deadly sins, mm ? ❞  a sly smirk takes its perch upon stubbled features along with the tilt of his head.

[ysurpr]

sooo the major storm has ruined my wifi dish and instead of waiting for repairs, it's cheaper to just get a better internet service. i shall return on may 5th to finish drafts and starters. until then, i will nap three weeks of not having much internet away.

[ysurpr]

   fishing was not his favorite hobby and the longer he sits perched on the pier at galdin quay, the more it dawns on him why. the ocean waves crashing so soothingly against white sands, seagulls squawking overhead and the blasted sun cursing its rays upon what flesh lays bare-- uncomfortable boredom. he should have denied noctis’ offer to join him, but if it meant not having to follow him and his companions across eos for a little longer, he thought why not ?  now he wishes to drown himself.  ❝  i see the admiration for a knowledgeable hobby such as chess didn’t get passed down through the bloodline.  ❞

@calamitousheir | starter.

[ysurpr]

   back meets the wall of some ill-made shack and a restless sigh escapes past his lips once more. his mind has seemingly deteriorated beyond madness because this strange world he’s woken up in feels extremely real. especially the woman who had grabbed him by the mantle and tugged him out of sight from the raging mob, all speaking in a language ardyn couldn’t understand. he’d contemplated on stealing memories of a frail mortal but once all the yelling started, mixed with confusion from ardyn himself, everything happened far too quick.  ❝  by the gods, what is this place ?  ❞

@culthcnt | starter.

[ysurpr]

    ❝  careful now, you wouldn’t want to KILL an innocent bystander with such demolition.  ❞   playfulness etches his tone as he bows to retrieve his hat, blown from atop a messy sea of dahlia strands. she packs quite a punch with that rocket launcher for a mere mortal-- or perhaps the daemon killer possessed a greater power unknown to majority. much like himself. either way, he’d rather not make another enemy so soon.

@dvlhntr | starter.

[ysurpr]

   it shouldn’t come as such a surprise to see the plague-ridden corpse appear like an unwanted apparition, sauntered steps echoing on the stone floor of the dimly lit cave and shadow bouncing off its walls. while their paths had split, ardyn was certain it would meet in the middle. and boy, did they meet. the deeper they went, the more troublesome the daemons became ( not for himself ) and it was such a spectacle to see the heir and his friends put up such a battle.  ❝  can we hurry this along, gentlemen ?  i have places to be and if i’m not mistaken, so do YOU as well.  ❞   

@chosenbythecrystal | starter.

[ysurpr]

    ❝  we don’t have all day, noct, do try to keep up.  ❞ because lestallum has UNFORGIVING crowds of hungry people during the annual cooking festival. one of which ( although not sure why ) ardyn tends to dabble in for what it’s worth, all while making sure to keep the chosen heir under his watchful eye, except when he seems to lose him in the sea of people here and there.

@lunarbranded | starter.

[ysurpr]

starter call !!

[ysurpr]

hm i wonder who could this be !!!!!!! c:

   a monkey’s uncle.

[ysurpr]

“ you don’t have to talk, we can just sit together. ”

misc sentence starters. ( accepting. )

   a leg sweeps up to rest atop the other, foot tapping invisible notes against the wind and the smallest little hum escaping past his lips at the woman’s proposal. most people avoided him like a wild PLAGUE ( pun fully intended. ) whether or not they knew of him– call it an instinct mortals seemed to possess nowadays. maybe the gods bestowed a blessing, who really knows. ardyn had tries his hardest to break away from the woman but to no avail, she had found him yet again. ❝—haven’t your parents taught you not to talk to STRANGERS ?❞ he coos, head tipping languidly in her direction to settle amber hues ‘pon her with oh so much mischief and amusement flooding his gaze.

[ysurpr]

“ i’m trying my best and it’s not good enough. it’s never good enough. ”

misc sentence starters. ( accepting. )

   the  mere  topic  makes  his  skin  CRAWL  as  he  has  not  one  soothing  answer  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue . it  would  require  empathy  for  the  prince  and  such  a  thing , ardyn  does  not  carry .  what  made  the  heir  feel  the  need , gather  the  COURAGE  to  even  dare  utter  such  words  within  his  presence ?  had  he  forgotten  who  he  was  speaking  too ? perhaps  it  may  have  slipped  his  mind  that  he  wasn’t  in  the  presence  of  his  FRIENDS  ( those trusted companions surely did like testing fate and ardyn’s self-control to not kill the chosen heir. )  but  that  of  a  wicked  FIEND . ❝oh , you  poor  soul .  such  struggles  and  burdens  placed  upon  your  shoulders  at  a  young  age , how  cruel  of  the  gods .❞ silken  MOCKERIES  all  woven  as  if  his  tongue  is  the  very  worm  that  weaves , a  smile  ever  so  present  in  his  gaze  at  the  younger  male . ❝if  you  cannot  handle  your  calling , perhaps  i  should  kill you  now . with  the  mindset  you’ve  acquired , ten  years  from  now  surely  seems  much  more  pathetic  and  DISAPPOINTING .❞

[leneemusing]

misc sentence starters

“  i wish i knew how to talk about it.  ”   “  you don’t have to talk, we can just sit together.  ”   “  i don’t want to be alone anymore.  ”   “  i wish i could hate you.  ”  “  take a seat, we’re gonna be here a while.  ” “  i need you to trust me.  ”   “  i missed/miss you.  ”   “  she/he won’t listen to me.  ” “  let me do this for you. please.  ”   “  is there anything else you want to say to me?  ” “  tell me something happy.  ”   “  promise me.  ” “  i just want/wanted to help.  ”   “  let me explain.  ” “  i didn’t/don’t need you to understand, i just wanted/want you to support me.  ”   “  i’m on your side.  ” “  i’ve got your back, okay? ” “  please, tell me you have a plan.  ” “  stay with me tonight.  ” “  don’t go. please.  ”   “  i’ve been alone for so long i’m afraid i don’t know what it’s like not to be.  ”   “  talk to me.  ”   “  i did what i had to do.  ” “  we can’t keep going on like this.  ” “  i’m just tired.  ” “  i’m scared.  ” “  it’s okay to be afraid. fear can be good. use it.  ” “  it’s better to expect disappointment.  ” “  hope is dangerous.  ” “  i like seeing you smile.  ”   “  you look beautiful.  ”   “  be patient with her/him. they’re trying. ”   “  i’m trying my best and it’s not good enough. it’s never good enough. ” “  i’m starting to think i’m just fucked up.  ”   “  have a drink with me.  ” “  she/he is better off without me. but i guess that’s their choice.  ” “  you can’t dictate what’s best for someone else. ” “  can i help you?  ” “  i thought you’d like this.  ” “  do you wanna get out of here?  ” “  walk with me?  ” “  well, shit.  ”

[ysurpr]

RUSSIAN CLASSICS AESTHETICS

BOLD whatever applies to / attracts your muse.

BROTHERS KARAMAZOV   :   orthodox monasteries   ,   deep woods   ,   STARRY NIGHTS,   the sound of paper being torn   ,   DIMLY LIT ROOMS  ,   withered roses   ,  an unfinished letter   , PILES OF BOOKS   ,   THE SOUND OF SHATTERING GLASS   ,TICKING OF CLOCKS IN A SILENT HOUSE ,   HEAVY WOODEN FURNITURE  ,   THE AIR BEFORE A STORM , THE SMELL OF EARTH   ,   a crowd of people dressed in black   ,  distant murmurs   ,  emptied streets  ,   the fear of walking alone in dusk.

CRIME AND PUNISHMENT   :   COLDNESS OF THE SKIN AGAINST A BLADE   ,   slender pale fingers   &   slightly shaking hands   ,   A RED STAIN BLOOMING ON WHITE FABRIC   , LONELY STEPS IN A CORRIDOR   ,  the slow dripping of water   ,   LOOKING OUT OF THE WINDOW INTO THE THICKENING DARKNESS ,   A SINGLE DYING CANDLE ON THE TABLE , LISTENING TO ONE’S BREATH   &   COUNTING HEARTBEATS ,   too many stairs   ,   the desire to be invisible   ,   A SUBTLE MEMORY OF KIND WORD.

THE IDIOT   :   CLASSICAL STATUES   ,   WEALTH COVERED WITH DUST   ,  A DARK HOUSE TAINTED WITH INHERITED MADNESS   , AN UNSETTLING FEELING ,   LONG WALKS IN A PARK   ,   useless chatter   ,   a silken ribbon forgotten on a bench   ,   a melancholic face   ,   an unexpected spring rain   ,  THE JOY OF READING ONE’S FAVORITE BOOK ,   THE CLARITY OF MIND AFTER FULLY PERCEIVING THE WORLD AROUND   , LOOKING AT CLOUDLESS SKY.

ANNA KARENINA :   fields of crops  ,   flowers brought from an early morning walk   ,   the wind caressing a girl’s hair   ,   A BOWL OF FRUIT   ,   THE SMELL OF RIPE PEARS   ,  THE CLATTER OF A SPOON AGAINST PORCELAIN WHEN STIRRING TEA ,   children’s laughter coming from the garden   ,  SOFT SUNLIGHT   &   WHITE CURTAINS ,   THE SENSATION OF VELVET AGAINST SKIN   ,  PEARLS FROM A RIPPED NECKLACE SPILLING ON MARBLE FLOOR   ,  A SUDDEN SILENCE IN A ROOM FULL OF PEOPLE.

WAR AND PEACE   :   A GLASS OF WINE   ,   THE BRIGHTNESS OF  A CRYSTAL CHANDELIER ,  white lace   ,  A RAGING SNOW STORM   ,   THE SOUND OF A DOOR BEING GENTLY CLOSED ,   the moment of holding one’s breath before walking in a ballroom   ,   indulging in looking at a beautiful earring against light   ,  closing one’s eyes for a moment while dancing   ,   THE SWEET SMELL OF STRAWBERRIES   ,   A PAIR OF GLOVES LEFT ON AN ARMCHAIR   ,  light scent of powder.

THE MASTER AND MARGARITA   :  THE CHAOS OF A LIVELY CITY  ,   AMBIENT JAZZ IN EXPENSIVE RESTAURANTS ,   jumping on a moving tram   ,  THE SIGHT OF MOSCOW FROM THE ROOF OF A HOUSE ,  YELLOW FLOWERS IN A VASE   , LEANING OUT OF THE WINDOW ,  SHELVES STACKED WITH BOOKS ,  a small tin box with old photographs   , STRANGE SHAPES IN THE NIGHT SKY   , LAUGHING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT ON A BALCONY ,   colorful posters for a surreptitious magician’s show floating in the wind.

EUGENE ONEGIN   :  A LONELY MANSION   ,   reading a book in the parlor   ,   FAINT PIANO MELODY LINGERING IN FALLING SILENCE , LONG EVENINGS   , PASSING SEASONS   ,   DISCUSSING FRENCH NOVELS OF THE MOMENT ,   UNSPOKEN THOUGHTS   ,   LEANING AGAINST THE DOOR FRAME  , QUICKLY AVERTED GLANCE ,   eating a peach absent-minded   ,   bright mornings   ,   FOOTPRINTS IN SNOW   ,   A LOUD GUNSHOT TERRIFYING A FLOCK OF BIRDS NEARBY.

FATHERS AND SONS   :   birch groves   ,  MORNING MIST   ,   MOSS-COVERED STONES NEAR A MOOR ,   SCIENTIFIC BOOKS   ,   WHITE ROSES ,   CHEAP CHAMPAGNE   ,   SHABBY POCKET-WATCH  ,   LIGHT-HEARTED IRONY   ,   A MALADROIT CELLO SONATA   ,    FRESHLY MOWED GRASS   ,  lEAVING THOUGHTS COME   &   GO   ,   a slow yawn ,   PICTURESQUE PLATES   &   BOWLS FILLED WITH TRADITIONAL DISHES   ,   DRINKING TEA ON THE PORCH.

DOCTOR ZHIVAGO   : A STRANGE FEELING OF LOSS ,  WRITING POEMS IN A DIARY , TRAVELING BY TRAIN   ,   the hesitation before touching someone’s hand   ,   THE GAZE OF ONE LOST IN THOUGHT  , THE WARMTH OF CINNAMON   ,   a scarf brightly embellished with flowers   ,   A GLASS OF WATER   ,  A THREADBARE JACKET  ,   THE TEMPTING VOID   ,  THE EVANESCENT SERENITY OF YESTERDAY.

CHERRY ORCHARD   :   A LONE CHAIR IN AN EMPTY ROOM  ,   falling blossoms   ,  OLD SAMOVAR ,   THE UNSETTLING NEED FOR CHANGE  ,   A MIRROR REFLECTING FULL MOON  ,   the disappointment of a glossy object turning worthless after second glance   ,   A PIANO OUT OF TUNE.

[ysurpr]

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

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 // RUNNING HAND THROUGH HAIR // rubbing back of neck //SNARLING // REVEALING TEETH / GRIMACING // SHARP-EYED GLOWERS WITH NOTABLE TENSION IN BROW // SHOULDERS BACK, HEAD UP — DEFENSIVE POSTURING // CLENCHING OF JAW / GRINDING TEETH // nostrils flaring // HEAVY EXHALES

[ysurpr]

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟗 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒.    bold what applies to your muse, italicize what is verse dependent.

𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃. a modern manifesto.   silver nailpolish.   layers of clothes in the cold weather.   conspiracy theories.   refusing to be a part of the mass. sounds of the city. aging but remaining youthful. rebellion.

𝐎𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑 𝐃𝐄 𝐋𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀. quiet evenings.  playing the strings of a guitar.   busy days in the city.  heavy coats in cold days.  burnt orange.   the lonely sound of an harmonica.  the taste of honey on your tongue.   the cold breeze greeting you in the morning.   letting your hair wild. mixing patterns.  soft fabrics.   ancient tapestry.   finding peace in your busy routine.  opaque lipstick.

𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐎𝐑𝐒. disco balls.   the thrilling bass on a song.   smiling as you walk towards the place you belong in. loud, fun rebellion.  wearing fierce hats.  the wind hitting your hair locks.   leather jackets in the heat.   using fashion as a statement. large sunglasses.   fierce haircuts.   sequin dresses.   not apologizing for your choices. the glamour of the seventies.   wearing your party clothes to work.

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐁𝐒. dramatic violin playing in the distance.   hiding behind a coat.  walking by yourself. being spotlight - blind. tragic romances. a mysterious glare.  quiet mourn.  leaving the house with no make up on.   bright colours shining in the dark.   the agony before a climax.

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐄. pumpkins.   golden chains.   band t-shirts.   the fresh feeling of modernity. paths that will always cross, no matter what. not being afraid of your rebel side.   a mix of colors as messy as your feelings.   oversized coats.  wearing sunglasses to avoid looking someone in the eyes.  leather.   wearing high heels with socks.   a busy day to day.  the will to let go of your past and the inability to do so.

[ysurpr]

AMOUS FIRST LINES OF POETRY. BOLD the ones that apply to your muse.

i saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked  // TYGER TYGER, BURNING BRIGHT  //  I HAVE DONE IT AGAIN.  //  DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT.//  THE SEA IS CALM TO-NIGHT.  // LET US GO THEN, YOU AND I, //  april is the cruelest month,  //  pretty women wonder where my secret lies. //  THERE IS A PLACE WHERE THE SIDEWALK ENDS //  I CARRY YOUR HEART WITH ME (I CARRY IT IN MY HEART)  // two roads diverged in a yellow wood, //  whose woods these are i think i know  //  let us twain walk aside from the rest;  //  ONCE UPON A MIDNIGHT DREARY, WHILE I PONDERED, WEAK AND WEARY, //  I TAUGHT MYSELF TO LIVE SIMPLY AND WISELY  //  it so happens i am sick of being a man  //  I WANDERED LONELY AS A CLOUD //  does it dry up like a raisin in the sun ?  //  o my luve is like a red, red rose  //  O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! OUR FEARFUL TRIP IS DONE;  //  OUT OF THE NIGHT THAT COVERS ME, //  IT WAS MANY AND MANY A YEAR AGO,  // YOU MAY WRITE ME DOWN IN HISTORY //  DO NOT STAND AT MY GRAVE AND WEEP  // SOME SAY THE WORLD WILL END IN FIRE, SOME SAY IN ICE. //  HOPE IS THE THING WITH FEATHERS // THE WIND WAS A TORRENT OF DARKNESS AMONG THE GUSTY TREES, //  no man is an island,  // REMEMBER ME WHEN I AM GONE AWAY,  //  i met a traveller from an antique land  //  ‘twas brillig, and the slithy toves  //  this is thy hour o soul,  //  WHEN WE WEAR THE MASK THAT GRINS AND LIES,  //  death be not proud, //  and death shall have no dominion.  //  LAUGH, AND THE WORLD LAUGHS WITH YOU; //  the art of losing isn’t hard to master;  //  TO SEE A WORLD IN A GRAIN OF SAND  // is there anybody there? said the traveller //  nobody heard him, the dead man,  // that crazed girl improving her music  //  COME TO ME IN THE SILENCE OF THE NIGHT; //  WHERE THE MIND IS WITHOUT FEAR AND THE HEAD IS HELD HIGH //  when you are old and grey and full of sleep,  //  in flanders’ fields the poppies blow  // I THOUGHT OF YOU AND HOW YOU LOVE THIS BEAUTY  //  LIFE, BELIEVE, IS NOT A DREAM //  it may be misery not to sing at all,  // IF STARRY SPACE NO LIMIT KNOWS // COME LIVE WITH ME AND BE MY LOVE,  // HAD WE BUT WORLD ENOUGH AND TIME,  //  MY HEART ACHES, AND A DROWSY NUMBNESS PAINS MY SENSE //  BRIGHT STAR, WOULD I WERE STEADFAST AS THOU ART–  //  THOU STILL UNRAVISH’D BRIDE OF QUIETNESS  //  HOW DO I LOVE THEE? LET ME COUNT THE WAYS.  // HEAVEN IS WHAT I CANNOT REACH ! //  MY DEAR, MY DEAR, I KNOW  //  IN VISIONS OF THE DARK NIGHT  //  shall i compare thee to a summers day? //  BREAK, BREAK, BREAK  //  she walks in beauty,  // I HAD A DREAM, WHICH WAS NOT ALL A DREAM.  //  he clasps the crag with crooked hands.