oregistics-blog

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BOLD WHAT YOUR MUSE CAN DO

bake a cake from scratch. ride a ‘horse’. drive a submarine. speak a second language. dance. catch a fish. play an instrument. throw a punch. build a deck. ice skate. unclog a drain. program a computer. change a flat tire. fire a gun. sew. juggle. play poker. paint. fly a kite. sculpt. write poetry. change a diaper. sing. shoot a bow & arrow. ride a bike. swim. sail a boat. do a back flip. play chess. give cpr. pitch a tent. flirt. stitch a wound. read palms. use chopsticks. write in cursive / calligraphy. use an electric drill. braid hair. make a campfire. make a mixed drink. do sudoku puzzles. wrap a gift. give a good massage. jump - start a car. roll their tongue. magic tricks. do yoga. tie a tie. skip a rock. shuffle a deck of cards. read morse code. pick a lock.

TAGGED BY: @ekkusumoi thank u i love u TAGGING: anyone mwah!

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sorry for the crazy inactivity!! a lot has been happening, so i haven’t been in the mood to talk, write, or really do anything lol

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bold what you apply to your muse. italicize what applies, but isn’t oftentimes established in detail.

defensiveness: arms crossed against chest • crossing legs • fist - like gestures • pointing index finger • karate chops • the fig leaf position.

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, narrowing his eyes.

suspicion: arms crossed • sideways glance • touching or rubbing nose • rubbing eyes.

openness & cooperation: open hands • upper body in sprinters position • sitting on edge of chair • hand - to - face gestures • unbuttoned coat • tilted head, soft smile.

confidence: hands behind back • hands on lapels of coat • steepled hands.

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.

frustration: short breaths • “tsk” sound • tightly clenched hands • fist - like gestures • pointing index finger • running hand through hair • rubbing back of neck.

tagged by: it was stolen! tagging: anyone that hasn’t done it yet and wants to

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"You're gonna need to be more BOULDER than that, when talking to me. I'm pretty GNEISS, you know?"

      a gasp that edges heavily upon dramatic leaves his lips, hand to his mouth like he heard something almost scandalous. it’s only a few seconds later until laughter bubbles from his throat like a volcano, grinning from behind the material of his glove.

       ❛ oh, i bet! you sound pretty solid, so who am i to doubt you? there’s nothing for me to quarry about, i��m sure. ❜

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volkner !

To: Roark  From: Volkner  Message:  I guess that sounds tolerable.  I’m not going all the way to Oreburgh for a meal, though. 

To: Volkner From: Roark Message: Oh, I wasn’t going to make you do that. We can meet halfway if that makes it easier. How about Hearthome? Is that okay?

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volkner !

Roughly five minutes after the arranged time, his guide arrived. By the looks of things, he’d been working in the mines. Volkner’s eyes flickered to the young man’s expression, then back to his phone, which he pocketed moments later. He supposed he couldn’t hold it against him; he understood what it was like to get lost in one’s work - and there was no harm done, really. 

“Roark, huh?” he stared at the hand extended to him briefly, wondering if his hand would come off black if he accepted. He decided quickly the idea was ridiculous and shook the young man’s hand. The man stank a bit of sweat and coal, which did little for his lungs. “Yeah… same. You’re Byron’s son?” It was the elder he knew better, and he might have been excited (though he hadn’t felt excited about much of anything lately) to see. Toward Roark he was indifferent - but he supposed he should be nice to younger, newer Gym Leaders. 

Jolteon, who had been sniffing around not far from Volkner, had joined the two of them, and was now sniffing at Roark instead. The Pokemon had been curious to see the place Volkner had received his first badge, but didn’t appear to appreciate the smell of coal. “Don’t worry about being late… it looks like you were busy in the mines. Speaking of which… before I get settled in, I’d like to see what I’ll be working on,” though it meant he’d be lugging around his suitcase a little longer. 

        he notices that volkner simply just stared at his hand and it only dawned him on how stupid he probably came across. of course he wouldn’t want to shake his dirty gloved hand - covered in coal and dirt as a result from working deep in the mines. a laugh that sounds awkward even to him bubbles from his throat and he was ready to peel off the glove to try it again, but volkner surprises him by shaking his hand anyway. the smile on his face is relieved at best as he lets his hand fall only after a second, not wanting to make this more awkward than it probably was.

        ❛ yeah, he’s my dad. oreburgh’s my responsibility now, so i gotta make it a rocking experience! ❜  he glances down to see the jolteon sniffing at him and he laughs, only knowing how he must’ve smell to such a sensitive nose. poor thing... he didn’t seem to like the scent he carried at all.

        ❛ anyway, let’s get going? you can get a peek for now and then i’ll show you where you’re going to stay. you wouldn’t want to keep your bags for long, right? right this way! ❜  he spins on his heel like it’s practice as he heads on back down the stairs to enter, descending through the series of them to head to where the heart of the mine is.

        ❛ ‘kay, this is where all things happen. heheh, it isn’t too bad looking, right? i mean, you’re great when it comes to all this tech stuff. i must admit, i’m not too good when it comes to that thing; i only really know the basics, but it ain’t really my thing. ❜

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cilan !

            ❝ oh, i mean… alright, if you’re hungry, then sure… uh, what are you in the mood for? ❞

         ❛ oh, don’t say it like that. it’s supposed to be for you, so you pick. c’mon, i insist! ❜

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🎨

drawing your muses!

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candice !

she nearly crashes into roark’s back when he stops short, peachy lips parted in mild surprise that soon melts into a gentle smile. ❛ no, it’s okay! ❜ she assures him, dismissing his concerns with a wave of her hand. frankly, it’s a little embarrassing to have him fussing over her like this- she doesn’t want him worrying over her when he should be enjoying himself in the cave.

          ❛ you’re sweet, roark. thank you for being so considerate. but really, it’s fine…at least, it’s fine for now. ❜ she laughs softly and continues on into the cave, confident that roark won’t hesitate to follow her in. she really is glad he’s here…even the allure of an ice type pokemon fossil isn’t enough to draw her into a cave herself, but with a friend by her side it’s not so bad. and although the thought of heading deeper down the tunnel fills her with a niggling sense of anxiety, she trusts roark and, more importantly, feels safer having him around.

         ❛ you don’t think it’ll get much narrower than this though, do you? ❜ no, no, she can’t dwell on that. instead, she moves her gaze to the cave wall and takes her turn at marveling how the crystals glimmer and glow from the light of the luminous moss, like thousands of stars sparkling brightly to illuminate their path.  ❛ that aside…you were right. this place is beautiful. . .look how the crystals sparkle! it reminds me of the diamond dust back home… ❜

          the once worried look on his face dissolves upon her reassurance; sure he may look unconvinced for only a moment, but it finally changes into a smile - almost sheepish as she calls him sweet.

          ❛ i’m... really nothing like that. i just don’t want you uncomfortable, so it’s the least he could do. ❜  his hand reaches to scratch the back of his neck with a laugh tacked on the skirt of his words. ❛ guess it’s just a habit of being head of the safety committee back at home. just can’t help but fuss over the well-being of other’s, you know? uhm, anyways - 

        ❛ i heard this place is actually two caves. this one is narrow like this, but the second one - if we go further - is a much larger, wider one. it’s the place where all the scientists go to dig up fossils, so i’m reaching for that. the trouble is getting past all these detours, but luckily i managed to pick up a map... ❜  he sighs for a second to break away from his musings, laughing instead as she points out how pretty it is. 

        ❛ right? it really does remind you of the diamond dust! i heard that the moss actually glitters and there are actual diamonds in the wall. i really want to get a good look at it when we have the chance. for now, you wanna just get to the big cave? ❜

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I’m a hopeless bromantic, high five me in the rain, fistbump me gently as the sun sets.

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🎨

im a fan

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WRITING AESTHETICS.

JOHN KEATS. the lavender in sunsets, flowers in the rain, sunlight slipping through clouds, lazy summer afternoons, the heavy scent of musk, flickering candlelight reflecting off the gold titles of books, fireflies on a cool summer night, being wrapped in fresh bedsheets, the ache of wanting what you can never have, dripping sunlight like gold, loving someone so exquisite, soft lips and soft whispers, fingers through hair, names of lovers carved in trees, broken glass, the insistence of being perpetually dreamy

F. SCOTT FITZGERALD. mahogany wood, crisp winter skies with cold bright stars, the solitude of an early autumn morning wrapped in fog, empty bottles on stacks and stacks of books haphazardly placed in a messy room, pale bruised arms reaching out into the darkness, cigarette smoke just barely hiding the scent of alcohol, a wall of books all poetry and old and weathered, a bad thunderstorm occurring at the end of a beautiful day, the way tragedy strikes in your heart but ends up stopping your breathing for a moment, your favorite sweater, parties spilling into four a.m. with the stars above spinning and dancing, the contrast of blood against snow, a purple split lip oozing blood, black eyes fading to blue to pale skin, the butterflies of falling in love for the first time, the statues falling apart over time in cemeteries, the romanticization of self-destruction

FRANZ KAFKA. the weight of dread that sits heavily in your stomach when thinking about the future, decrepit houses cloaked in mystery from children telling stories of people who died there, the way not even light can escape a black hole, the rich smell of old books, delicate veins in the wrist, ghosts filling lungs, shattered bones, raindrops on the tongue, rusting metal, nostalgia that aches, the way hope feels like a plastic bag over your head

H.P. LOVECRAFT. the anxiety felt when staring into an unknown cave, pouring rain and mud, a child’s fear of the dark, thinking so many questions about your existence as you stare at the vast expanse of never ending ocean, the silence of three a.m.,  danse macabre by camille saint-saens playing on a record in an empty house, the possibility of aliens and the weird feeling it gives you that you can’t explain, un-explainable phenomena, strange lights in the sky in the dead of night, ouija boards and urban legends.

JACK KEROUAC. the brisk pine air of being on a mountain, travels without a destination, those nights where you’re missing three hours of memory, screaming to a lifeless desert about how you’re so alive, coffee shops late at night, car rides at night spent speeding and laughing in the dark, naps spent in the sun, novels highlighted and underlined with notes and epiphanies in the margins, the way uncertainty sits on the shoulders, ignoring flaws and loving life, wind through hair, depression as fog in the brain, impossible ideals, a quiet sunrise, walks alone, when you think about trying to discover all the secrets to the universe, dazzling people, open lands stretching out into infinity, falling in love with being alive

EDGAR ALLAN POE. the ocean’s horizon inseparable from fog, hollow bones, a preserved heart held in hands, twinkling stars above an old graveyard, the way everything turns to dust, silent black birds with eyes full of wisdom, self-inflicted flames, perfection depicted as a rotting corpse, death as bricks in the heart, lips barely brushing against each other, glassy glazed eyes, biting into a lemon, heart-shaped bruises, rotting flowers on a grave, dried blood and spilled liquor, the hush of dusk when it begins raining, the intimacy of a secret.

tagged by: @rebursting thank u tagging: anyone who wasn’t tagged? 

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@oregistics ask and ye shall recieve

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cilan !

          ❝ oh—we don’t have to, i just thought i’d keep you updated!  thank you for your encouragement, though. ❞

        ❛ i wouldn’t mind it since wouldn’t a change in scenery help? c’mon, we can go out for lunch or something.❜

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teaflora: 

i……… am unsure.

          ...i’m sorry. um, i’m not really good at this. do you want to go out for a while? maybe that’ll cheer you up?

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it seems i have been rejected

         huh? are you referring to candi? i’m… sorry. um, are you okay…?

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WHAT   TRAIT   MAKES   YOUR   MUSE   LOVABLE ? repost    /    don’t  reblog!

✮    A  GIVER   !    ━     generosity of spirit is your strongest attribute.     You're everyone's go-to when there's a problem. You never hesitate to drop everything to help out your friends and loved ones. Because of your nurturing, optimistic, and accepting attitude, you have a calming effect on most people. You also have a large group of friends, you're the kind of person everyone wants to keep around. 

TAGGED  BY: @giiniro​ thank you! TAGGING: @iciclecrashes​, @teaflora​, @thndrstone​, @essenceguardian​, and anyone else!