#((isayah: nailed it

[misfortuning]

@deadxheads │ ᴍᴏɴѕтᴇʀѕ? ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴍʏ вᴇᴅ?

       Isayah knew it was a mistake the moment Lucy showed up at his door. He knew it was only going to get worse after he agreed to let her stay. And lo-and-behold, when he arrives home it’s to an unlocked door and unfamiliar smells. (Thank fuck he got everyone out of the house; even the dogs had been temporarily evicted, though the cats still remained.) 

       Immediately a flare of anger sharpens itself in preparation, but just as quickly he buries its edge in his own gut. He was angry, but was he surprised? No. And that meant that he could very well accept and deal with whatever bullshit was left behind in the mess he’d helped create. Temper dismissed, he purposefully opens the door, closes it with the same controlled manner. It’s the only hint that remains of his fouled mood.

       Motionless now, he focuses; listens, breathes, taps into that strange, almost sixth sense he has (though he’d never call it that aloud). Lucy’s gone. He’s not entirely sure how he knows this or if he really knows it at all, but he’d certainly be surprised if she was still around. And yet...the house doesn’t quite feel empty. Or maybe it feels too empty. Too quiet. Like something lying in wait. 

       Bone-deep exhaustion helps smother the coals of rage, and he shoves a hand through his hair wondering why he invites these situations even when he doesn’t want them. Especially when he doesn’t want them. Drawing the silence into his lungs, he breaks it cleanly on the exhale.

       “...A’ight. Whoever you are, I don’t care. But get out of my house.” Now why didn’t he just do that to Lucy? Isayah reminds himself that it’s not the stranger he’s got a problem with, nor the stranger with him. “...Please.”

[ivakir]

“Are you really expecting a positive outcome out of this?” ((he's very suspicious of her experiments hdklsgask))

( @misfortuning )

“My darling,” Ivakir said in the tone of a professor who had been conducting a series of unsuccessful experiments for several years, which ended with either an explosion or a complete failure (which actually was the same), “if I didn’t believe that something good will come of it, I would not be where I am now. Now, stop it, there is no place for doubts.”

Ivakir was not talking about the evil forest where she was right now, but about the invisible social ladder, which in her imagination was rather high, and the witch herself was not at the bottom. At this peak, it was warm and comfy, but there were also other steps higher, which was even better, so why not climb them too?

Specifically, this experiment was in no way connected with the conquest of social stairs. And, perhaps, the fact that she was asked such a question (because, being near Ivakir, you sooner or later start asking her such questions), it was quite justified. Well, what could come out of a chicken (1) and a set of boards and nails that were tied to a poor bird? The worst thing was that the bird was still alive and was not aware of what was happening.

This chicken didn’t even suspect that when the witch stopped chanting her spell, its life would change dramatically. It will change its form, turn into a huge house, but it will keep its chicken consciousness. The bird pecked the ground and stared at the witch. Many thought the chickens were stupid, but they forgot about the fact that even the most stupid animals had the instincts of self-preservation. Something was beating in the depths of the small chicken brain and screaming that something very strange was happening. When the witch extended her hand to fix the boards, the hen did the most logical thing it could do: it spread its wings, pecked the witch in her hand and ran off, rattling with the attached boards.

“Ouch!” Ivakir grabbed her hand. She stared in fury at the chicken that was hiding among the bushes. “What are you waiting for? Catch this stupid bird!” she immediately shifted her eyes to Isayah, who did not even suspect that he had become her assistant. “It’s your fault that it ran away because you distracted me with your stupid questions!”

[misfortuning]

For the questions - "1. How do they move and carry themselves? Pace, rhythm, gestures, energy?" -- "16. Do they dream? What are those dreams like?" & "28. What are they likely to do if they have the opportunity, resources, and time to accomplish it? Why?" ! Sorry if these are hard to answer !

THE MEANING OF LIFE— accepting!

NOT AT ALL THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THESE THEY’RE SO BEAUTIFUL also confession time i’ve reblogged this before and have answered 1 here but i’m a slut for this meme so i’m gonna answer it again 

1. How do they move and carry themselves? Pace, rhythm, gestures, energy?

He moves like a predator, such casual confidence because he draws more blood than he sheds, will shed enough blood for the both of you because he is not afraid to go for the throat; He carries himself like prey, ever alert, paranoid, ready to put his back to a corner and fight for his life, for so much more than that. (There is no escape. Onward.)He moves at his own pace, struggles tooth and nail to resist the current that threatens to drag him under, sometimes, because he refuses to be moved by anything other than his own will. His rhythm is a heartbeat, endless, unceasing—in the heat of a moment it becomes a race against the world, himself, the confines of his own rigid self-control. (There is no escape. Onward.)Gestures are subtle things, hedged and trimmed to present an impassible wall through which he allows only the smallest slips of information. He does not open himself to connection, does not desire anything of the sort. (There is no escape. Onward.)Energy comes and goes, strings drawing slack to a restless tune, the swell and swallow of a distant storm. At times he is less a man than a riot, chaos tearing at his flesh from the inside; at times he is less a man than a hollow sky, a vessel in which there is nothing but echoes, black and bleak. (There is no escape. Onward.)

16. Do they dream? What are those dreams like?

get ready for some real incoherent nonsense y’all,

He dreams of fire; can’t remember if it was real but it must have been, at some point, in some form, because what wasn’t? What wasn’t done to him in the name of (love and safety and humanity and promises from his own lips) in the name of science, God, he remembers now—He’ll never know how many tools were used to flay him bare, exposed, never know how many needles or what was in them but they are there, in his veins fire and ice and IN HIS VEINS AND pain and then nothing—Nothing but pain when there’s anything at all (slowly anything there could be is being taken from him, things he wouldn’t even think of or miss until they’re gone and there’s no coming back)—And faster now, sand through his fingers, water, blood in his hands and bleeding away and he is losing everything, losing them one by one and two by two and who is left? Who is left?(He is still here and it burns him, bleeds him, drowns him with how alive he is INHISVEINSINHISLUNGSINHISHEADINHISCHESTOHGODGETOUTGETOUT he is left)alone

He wakes in a sweat he cannot feel, eyes stinging and darkHe does not remember falling asleepHe doesn’t remember

He dreams of water. It is never-ending and he chokes and chokes, never-dying.

He dreams of an empty, echoing house. There is no one there no matter how he looks, vacancy a looming hunger the longer he searches for nothing. He waits for it to strike but it only gets farther and farther away. There is no one there. There is no one.

He dreams he is a wolf, more so that he has been in years. There is a child laughing. He is a wolf. There is a child. He is a wolf. 

In his dreams, she introduces herself. That is how he knows it is a dream, only a dream, but the knowledge does not make it better. Nothing makes it better.

He dreams rarely of a golden ocean, burning. He is yelling, screaming or calling for someone he isn’t sure, but he does not stop. Cannot. He is becoming the roar.

He dreams he is on the table. Sometimes they are all on tables, sometimes some of them are already dead. Sometimes she is there, smiling sadly—always smiling, never on the table.

He dreams she doesn’t die. He dreams she will not, no matter how he tries.

He dreams he wakes up. He dreams he wakes up. He dreams he wakes up. He wakes up. He dreams.

28. What are they likely to do if they have the opportunity, resources, and time to accomplish it? Why?

Utterly dismantle and destroy the organization he was formerly a part of. It is the source of so much trauma in his life, which he already had plenty of and really did NOT need any more (call out @ me). Isayah isn’t a fan of irrationality in the least, but that place drives any and all scraps of rationality or morality from him. Like, get ready for some brutality, because—He would first hunt down every single member and benefactor, behead and dismember them, gather the pieces in the compound and burn it to the ground, gather every smudge of ash, weld all of it into a lidless metal box, sink that box to the deepest depths of the oceans and move as far away from the ocean as physically possible, and then as soon at inter-planetary travel became an option, move himself and all of his loved ones as far away from Earth as they could get. And then he might find some way to vaporize Earth, just for good measure. Maybe launch it into the sun.

[misfortuning]

ROMANCE CANONS —

NAME: Isayah

NICKNAME: none (his brother calls him Hermit but I’m assuming this means a nickname that can be used in a romantic setting. do NOT call him Hermit if you’re trying to date him dhghbkldfhd)

GENDER: cis male

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: heteroromantic

PREFERRED PET NAMES: none. as in he prefers none. you might think it’s cute to call him dogboy or wolfman, but if you call him the former he will avoid you like the plague and the latter is so insufferably not clever

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single, still not entirely over his dead girlfriend OR his almost-girlfriend friend

FAVORITE CANON SHIP: well in Isayah’s canon it’s gotta be Isayah/Alenna, I’M still so far from being over them that I’m crying right now

FAVORITE NON-CANON SHIP: Isayah/Olivie. I’m crying again right now

OPINION ON TRUE LOVE: he’s not gonna argue over it but he sure as hell knows what he felt for Alenna

OPINION ON LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT: nah man. you can be infatuated but he wouldn’t ever call that love

HOW ‘ROMANTIC’ ARE THEY?: not very, but still surprisingly so, all things considered. he won’t set up a candle lit dinner or buy you flowers (but maybe he’ll pick a flower if it reminds him of u fhfhdls), but he’ll buy you other things that last longer and honestly? you can feel the love radiation off him like a very gentle heater

IDEAL PHYSICAL TRAITS: TALL WOMEN. STRONG WOMEN. he likes curves and appreciates legs over breast size, and while it doesn’t actually make any difference, he does like long hair and will absolutely notice eyes

IDEAL PERSONALITY TRAITS: mmmm it’s hard to pin down. some people of a certain personality might click while others of the same personality might not. he is attracted to a sense of innocence, but too much innocence will make him stay away because he won’t want to ruin it. it’s possible for him to connect quickly with other people who have experienced suffering, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s attracted to it. optimism is nice but can be overdone, and while strength is certainly attractive he definitely appreciates someone with a soft side; though again, can’t be too soft or he’ll keep his distance. IT’S COMPLICATED OKAY EVERY PERSON AND EXPERIENCE IS UNIQUE

UNATTRACTIVE PHYSICAL TRAITS: if someone is over a foot shorter than him, he’s just not physically attracted. however, if she’s only an inch—that’s one (1) inch—and a foot shorter, there might be a chance if he really, REALLY likes her. if she’s very slender, regardless of height it will probably make him uneasy because what if he hurts her?? 

(BONUS - UNATTRACTIVE TRAITS, OTHER: if a woman wears really strong perfume he’s not likely to hang around, also those really long fake nails wig him out, no touchy him. really loud, cloying, nosy personalities drive him up the wall)

IDEAL DATE: honestly...probably camping hfhflkdfhf, unless his partner doesn’t like camping. then...probably just a night at home, legs tangled on the couch and idle coversation

DO THEY HAVE A TYPE?: honestly, someone who has her own back but will allow for them to have each others’ backs.

AVERAGE RELATIONSHIP LENGTH: hhhhhhhh if Alenna was still alive they’d still be together. if he and Olivie had become a thing, they’d still be together. he’s not really the marriage type but he’s definitely a ‘for life’ kind of person

PREFERRED NON-SEXUAL INTIMACY: like, everything. he becomes so contact-oriented, he’s so averse to touching everyone else and absolutely touch-starved?? just little things like casually brushing against his partner whether sitting/standing/walking, idly taking her hand, absentminded stroking of neck/shoulder/arm/hip/leg, playing with her hair, and it goes for receiving too!! as long as he’s expecting it PLEASE just, let him know you’re there, if he lays his head in your lap pet his hair?? knock him the FUCK out

COMMITMENT LEVEL: through the fucking roof, he doesn’t half-ass anything, it’s all or nothing. if he commits, he god damn well means it thank you very much

OPINION OF PUBLIC AFFECTION: he’s not gonna make out for a minute but if he hasn’t seen his partner for a while he could go for a deep kiss :)

PAST RELATIONSHIPS?: Alenna. he and Olivie were practically together, but it never quite happened due to everything falling to shit

tagged by: @lightningdreamer (thanks!!) tagging: @blasianbutterfly / @txrroreign, @deadxheads, @tiptoes-through-glass, @fxlsemoon / @newspapcr, @starbrosforever, @the-pleasant-witch