progresseur - Tumblr blog

[progresseur]

Okay for real this time— I mean?? New content

[progresseur]

Maybe I…. Come back to this trash site?

[progresseur]

can i have a fake dating thread w/ someone where maybe they’re trying to elevate their court status or something & he’s tired of the jokes but oh ooh Plot Twist   they don’t  fall in love romantically but become the closest friends instead

[progresseur]

i saw a tweet that said something like  ‘i like people who both hate themselves with a burning passion & think that they could effortlessly surpass god at the same time’   & i can’t find it again for the life of me but damn if that’s not orlo

[progresseur]

word prompts compilation / accepting !

       @huntrcsss​  sent a letter :   [ guard ] 

for your muse to step between my muse and danger.

he spots the general’s eyes on his friend from across the hall.    concerning.    velementov is far more intelligent than most at court ,  &  usually ,  somehow ,  far more drunk.    he’s not sure which of those facts is worse ,  catherine having shed a light on the indelicacy of his rather aggressive compliments...  however waxed poetic they may be.    

that man would surely figure she doesn’t belong here if he wasn’t too distracted by her   aLaBaStEr sKiN  or her  EnTrAnCiNg EyEs  or whatever he happened to notice  ---  neither was a fate the count wished to befall her.    a few hasty strides put him between the two ,  smoothing things over as he’s done so many times before.    once the general takes his leave & is well out of earshot orlo turns to theo ,  an apology written plain on his face. 

❝  that could have been disastrous. ❞

[progresseur]

rainbcwhearts​.

The Doctor frowned at his response. That was definitely Russian, and to her knowledge the Master didn’t know a word. She stepped back, getting out her sonic and quickly scanning the man before reading the results.

Oh. That was embarrassing. She put away the tool before stepping forwards, and awkward and apologetic smile on her face.

“Ah. Sorry, you look like someone I know. Exactly like someone I know.” The Doctor stepped forwards, squinting as she studied Orlo for a moment. “Just a bit unnerving, we’re not best of friends.” She gave him a small nod. “I’m the Doctor. What’s your actual name then?”

the count’s eyes widen as she whips out the device.    the strangest thing he’s ever seen emits the worst sound he’s ever heard  &  the whole of his body seems to stutter.    his feet shuffle a few steps back ,  his mind racing.    is that a weapon ?   what has she done with it ?    has she hurt him somehow ?    does she plan on it ?    his hands raise to show that he intends no harm  &  does indeed beg mercy  ---  a reflex ingrained in him by the whims of his unruly emperor.    he’s ready to run as fast as his legs will carry him until she speaks again.

even when she admits to the mix - up ,  with her apology  &  her smile ,  he does not relax.    not completely.    he does ,  however ,  answer her question.

❝   that is quite alright...  ❞        it isn’t.       ❝   i am count orlo...  a pleasure.  ❞  

doctor ,  she says...    this raises several questions of his own.   are you with chekov ?    surely not...  i didn’t think him one progressive enough to consider a woman capable of...  medicine ,  w-what  did you do just then with that..  thing ?  ❞

[progresseur]

morememesforall​:

word prompts compilation

complies THIS MEME // THIS MEME // THIS MEME

ADD ++ FOR REVERSE

[ attention ] for your muse to touch mine as a way of getting their attention

[ wake ] for your muse to wake mine

[ cover ]  for your muse to cover mine with a blanket or a jacket

[ lift ] for your muse to give mine a hand stepping up or over something etc.

[ kiss ]  for your muse to come up to mine and kiss them without warning

[ run ] for your muse to run their fingers through mine’s hair

[ braid ] for your muse to braid mine’s hair

[ embrace ]  for your muse to hold mine

[ smile ] for your muse to smile at mine from across the room

[ wave ] for your muse to gesture to mine to come closer

[ panic ] for your muse to grab mine’s arm or get behind them in a moment of danger

[ touch ] for your muse to rest their forehead against mine’s

[ weep ]  for your muse to catch mine crying

[ eat ] for your muse to offer mine food

[ hit ] for your muse to attack mine

[ love ] for your muse to touch mine as a show of affection or reassurance

[ nap ] for your muse to fall asleep against mine

[ rest ] for your muse to rest their head in mine’s lap

[ look ] for your muse to catch mine staring

[ seduce ] for your muse to touch mine sexually

[ help ] for your muse to lean on mine for support

[ give ] for your muse to offer mine their arm

[ entwine ] for your muse to hold mine’s hand

[ laugh ] for your muse to laugh at something mine did

[ dance ] for your muse to dance with mine

[ sit ] for your muse to pull mine into their lap

[ yell ] for your muse to calm mine down

[ cry ] for your muse to wipe mine’s tears away

[ dream ] for my muse to share dream with yours

[ nightmare ] for your muse to wake mine from a nightmare

[ surprise ] for your muse to show up at mine’s house without explanation

[ fix ] for your muse to treat mine’s injury

[ sacrifice ] for your muse to get hurt protecting mine

[ guard ] for your muse to step between my muse and danger

[ taste ] for your muse to cook for mine

[ sing ] for your muse to sing to mine 

[ goodbye ] for my muse kissing and/or hugging your muse goodbye

[ secrets ]   my  muse  sharing/confiding  a secret

[ bloody ]   for your  muse  coming  to  my  muse  with  blood  stains 

[ drunk ]   your  muse  takes  care  of my very drunk muse 

[ bed ]  my  muse wakes up in  the  same bed as your muse with little  recollection  of  the  night  before

[ scream ]   my  muse  hears  your  muse  scream  and  runs  to  them

[ trail ]   my  muse  watches  as  your  muse  traces  one  of  my  muses  scars,  asking  them  about  it

[ piggyback ]   my  muse  gives  yours  a  piggyback  ride

[ jump ]   my  muse  holding  yours  up  by  their  thighs

[ carry ]   my  muse  carries  your  muse  to  their  house

[ lighter ]   my  muse  pulls  out  a  lighter  and  lights  it  for  your  muse  to  use  to  light  their  cigarette

[ shot ] my  muse  gets  shot  and  struggles  to  your  muses for aid

[ wound ] my  muse  patches  and  bandages  a  wound  your  muse  has  gotten

[ fight ]   my  muse  stops  your  muse  from  getting  into  a  physical  fight  with  someone  else

[ arrest ]   your  muse  finds  my  muse  arrested  in  cuffs  

[ hospital ]   my  muse  awakens  in  a  hospital,  finding  your  muse  by  their  side,  asking  what  happened

[ betrayal ] my  muse  finds  out  that  your  muse  has  betrayed  them and  confronts  them  about  it

[ nude ] my  muse  walks  in  on  your  muse  accidentally  seeing  them  naked

[ karaoke ]  for our muses to sing together

[ wet ]   your muse  strips  down  to  their  under  garments  and  runs  into  the  water,  motioning  for my muse  to  join  them

[ crawl ]  for  your  muse  to  crawl  into  bed  with  mine .

[ flower ]  for  your  muse  to  offer  my  muse  their  favourite  flower

[ gift ]  for  my  muse  to  surprise  your muse  with  a  gift

[ homemade gift ]  for  my  muse  to  make  your muse  a  gift

[ bestow ] for your muse to give my muse a gift, bought or handmade ( bonus if you add what it is )

[ serenade ]  for  my  muse  to  sing  to  your  muse

[ caress ]  for  your  muse  to  gently  run  their  hand  down  my  muse’s  face

[ caught ]  for  your  muse  to  catch  my  muse  wearing  their  shirt .

[ love letter ]  for  your  muse  to  give  my  muse  a  love  letter  they  wrote  for  them

[ boop ]  for  your  muse  to  boop  my  muse  on  the  nose

[ date ]  for  my muse  to  ask  your  muse  to  go  on  a  date

[ confess ]  for my muse  to  confess  their  feelings  to  your  muse

[ sleepy ]  for  my muse  to  slowly  fall  alseep  on  your muse

[progresseur]

rainbcwhearts​.

@progresseur​

The Doctor felt like going into Earth’s past. Even if usually it was a disaster she enjoyed it. After spending so long locked up she wanted to spend as much time on her adopted home as she could, exploring areas she hadn’t been to as much. Namely anywhere that wasn’t 20th century England.

Walking into the court, the Doctor could feel the eyes on her, but she didn’t care. She saw the corsets and wasn’t about to try and dress in them, her coat and shirt was fine by her. She kept walking down the hallway before her hearts stopped. Of course he was here, of course she couldn’t get a moment of peace. The Doctor stepped forwards, blocking the man’s way and glaring.

“What are you doing here?” She hissed. “What have you done now Master?”

a normal day is apparently too much to ask for.    he’s just rid himself of the empress  &  her dangerous mouth when yet another yellow - haired woman stops him in his tracks.   

 this one looks absolutely ridiculous in her choice of dress  &  angrier than catherine ,  somehow.    

his brows furrowed  &  his lips parted ,  teeth visible just under the upward curl of the upper one.    for a moment he was still  ;  attempting to process what she’s just asked him before finding her reason unfathomable.     what is he doing here ?    that question frightened him.    had she overheard the mention of a coup ?    if she decided to go to peter  &  call treason ,  russia would be out one count  &  one empress.     the skin of his forehead started to slick as his heart rate quickened until ---  master ?    master.    

clearly she’s mistaken him for someone else.

his tongue finally found traction enough to utter a single word.        ❝   what ?   ❞

[progresseur]

dear god // XTC

[progresseur]

huntrcsss.

There’s a sigh of relief that escapes her when he finally speaks a languages she’s much more knowledgeable on; although, she certainly makes a note to herself to start studying other languages a bit more. He didn’t seem like much of a danger towards her from his attire and stance alone; if she’s lucky, maybe she just somehow ended up at some renaissance fair, or one of thIs reenactments. Except, it’s likely not given her previous situation.

“Yea, I know - English, actually. “ a momentary pause is granted, hands slowly lowering back down though they don’t make any sort of movement towards her bag; the last thing she needed was for someone to freak out even further about her random appearance. “I’m fine, definitely; though, I’m kinda - where am I? Or really, when might make more sense.”

his posture remains as unthreatening as ever ,  feet not daring to close any distance between the two.   it’s now that he gets an even better look at her clothes.    her bodice is loose  &  completely unstructured ,  her breeches are several inches too long  &  both are made of the strangest fabrics he’d ever seen --- do women wear breeches in the english colonies ?    in england ?    that train of thought led to his note of her accent ,  odd...   he can’t quite place it ,  something he vocalized in his next breath despite strenuous efforts to hold his tongue.

❝   where did you come from ?   ❞        he asks ,  her query falling by the wayside in favor of his own ,  his demeanor tipping from frightened to curious  &  back again.    a quick glance is thrown over his shoulder.    no sign of catherine.    no sign of anyone ,  but he knows there’s only a matter of time before another courtier decides to take a stroll to drown out their existential crisis just as he had.    

he also knows that he cannot risk trusting this stranger just yet ,  no secluded secondary locations for more private conversation until he’s sure she won’t kill him ,  or worse.    nimble fingers adjust his glasses as he turns back to face her.          ❝  and ,  please..    do speak quietly.   ❞

[progresseur]

Fᴏxʟᴏʀᴇ (2016)       ↪  Nᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇ Gʜᴏsᴛ ʙʏ Tʜᴇ Cʀᴀɴᴇ Wɪᴠᴇs If only I could break the chain Of disappointments weighing me down...

Fᴏxʟᴏʀᴇ (2016)       ↪  Nᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇ Gʜᴏsᴛ ʙʏ Tʜᴇ Cʀᴀɴᴇ Wɪᴠᴇs

If only I could break the chain Of disappointments weighing me down For we collect mistakes and carry them home And my fear is a ghost that leaves me haunted

[progresseur]

                   “ ɪ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇ… “

                                           template by rpstars

[progresseur]

                 HE’S DRENCHED IN THE LIGHT   from one of the large front - facing windows of the palace.   there is a smile resting upon his lips.    somewhat uncommon occurrences ,  that the count would find a reason to stare out a public window for any length of time ,  or something amidst the senselessness  &  debauchery at court that brings him  actual  joy.    there is to be a scheduled visit from a friend today.    a dear one ,  at that.  �� one whose letters often lift him to personal heights he’d long thought to be unfathomable.    princess jocelyn.    her carriage is due any moment.

he has so much to tell her ,  show her ---  books to lend her...    pamphlets to discuss...   new recipes for her to taste...   so much that can’t be done in writing.    he’s nearly lost in thought when he hears the horses.    she’s here ,  &  he’s happily racing to the throne room to greet her.   the emperor  &  his other advisors will be present for a good long while when she first sets foot in ,  unfortunately nothing can be done about that.    an alliance needs to be upheld.    but after ?    for that ,  his anticipation is palpable.   

 the count is the second to arrive ,  a few seconds behind archie with some to spare for catching breath before his highness  &  the rest barrel past the two  &  he may enter.    his smile remains in his eyes throughout the meeting ,  beaming through the company’s nasty jests  &  the politics until it finally comes time for her to get situated in her rooms.    he hangs back as the rest take their leave.

❝  your highness. ❞        he says ,  giving the proper bow. / @fcntsies​

[progresseur]

                THERE’S BLOOD ON HIS CLOAK.    not surprising ,  given the events that transpired a mere hour ago.    what’s odd is how blank his mind had been -- that it took him this long to notice the slight damp in the fabric ,  just how far he’s gone  &  how little attention he’s paid to direction.    a walk to clear his head ,  he’d thought.    just a short one ,  he’d stay close to the soldiers.    they'd protect him like he did them ,  however reluctantly.    they’d be searching the forest for him by now ,  wouldn’t they ?   he thinks ,  surely.    he just has to wait --- forget how his torch barely cuts through a few feet of the night ,  black as pitch...    forget how the cold bites at his fingers  &  ears...   forget how his feet ache  & wait.

tree roots seem as good a seat as any to rest his weary frame ,  but he can’t do that because to rest may mean his death which is all the more frightening a thought when his sanity has slipped enough to conjure up a voice ,  a woman ,  singing him to sleep.    it’s soft.    resonant.    to give in would be unwise.    this walk was unwise.    this whole evening ,  every decision that brought him here had been ,  in hindsight ,  unwise.

the air stings his nostrils as his breathing grows faster ,  & the singing won’t stop.    he tries to will it away ,  his chest  &  throat feeling leaden  &  his welling eyes shut tight against the dark ,  tears leaving tracks in the dirt on his cheeks.    the whole of his body trembles as the song continues until he’s had enough.  

❝ STOP IT !  ❞        he screams ,  voice cracking from disuse. / @twrflwr​

[progresseur]

am i currently putting together a fantasy build of orlo so i can play him in my roommate’s new starfinder campaign?       but of course.

[progresseur]

[progresseur]

huntrcsss.

it takes her a moment to arise to her feet, brushing off debris from her attire as bits of scattered dirt and leaves descend to the ground. her attire is certainly not of this time, dark jeans accompanied by a simple black shirt & crimson flannel, her bag still kept close at her side. though she was expecting someone in least some sort of modern attire, she can swiftly tell when the other draws closer it didn’t look close to her time. something a lot older; when though she’s not sure. great, just what she needed - to just be punched back in time. 

     she’s about to attempt further when she notices the change in language; german maybe? it sounds gernam - another language she’s really not skilled in either. there’s even further uncertainty in what he even said to her, dark brows furrowing in attempting to figure everything out. so…was she in gernamy? maybe something more like russia, considering his previous language. 

     hands arise she means no harm towards him, attenpting to figure out just what to state that could perhaps prove such further.

     “shit, um… bron? is that what - wait, that’s bread i think, um…”

she looks shaken.    possibly hurt.    certainly dirty ,  but he doesn’t relax when she strikes her pose  &  he  will not  for quite some time ,  his mind abuzz with hypotheticals.    should she be feigning innocence ,  he will keep his distance ,  keep safe.    should she not ?   he will..    not know what to do.    still ,  he mirrors her  --- holding his hands up to show he has no weapon ,  nothing in them save for the tattered leaf that slips through his fingers & flutters to the ground near his cleanly shoed feet.

he creeps a little closer ,  observing the whole of her.     she is no friend of the empress.     that much is evident in her terrible german  &  what she possibly considered to be clothes ,  however inappropriate for court they are.    

the intelligent man that he is ,  the courtier recognized the language she rambled in to be english --- a language he’d learned for the sake of reading certain books  &  pamphlets in their original text as to not dilute their meaning.   ( & for work ,  of course. )    much like french.

again ,  he twists his tongue in the hopes they find common ground.        ❝ ----- english ?    you speak english.    ah ,  no.. ‘bread’  in german is  ‘brot’.    a - are you alright ?  ❞        

another cautious step forward ,  unsure ;  his voice airy.        ❝  i - i was asking just then. ❞