#like listen when ur several thousands of years old u got a lot of baggage and man. shit's rough

[carnivigorous]

✄- - Answered - - - - - - -

@streetsteel said: Abandoned mask and mask's calling. Cause I'm mean like that uwu

Mask Meme  | not accepting! Abandoned mask:  Tabitha. ( pokemon rse )

A muse I’ve had in the past that I no longer roleplay. 

                              Slouched at a desk with numerous piles of papers stacked every which way in a chaotically organized manner, a purple haired man thrums his index finger impatiently. Narrow, bored magenta eyes fix onto a laptop’s screen as readings from the previous geological expedition bounced up and down with little to nothing to show. Slowly Tabitha reaches for his only solace from dying of complete boredom closer; a raspberry frappuccino from good old Starboks for one ' Mitshil ', and gives it a loooong slurp until he has to tap pause to wait out a brain freeze.                               Honestly he preferred actually doing the field work than this desk job bullshit. But hey, it came with the job and honestly he wasn’t about to complain about his higher position. One day he'll find something and that adrenaline will shoot through the roof, and Team Magma could finally get the ball rolling. Throwing down with Aqua grunts was fun and all, but getting to the point and seeing some actual results was what kept him awake. He didn’t reach administrative position for nothing. But there he was, in the now, staring mindlessly at a screen— did he doze off? Shit, he might have spaced out, better rewind to catch up on the last few minutes of  n o t h i n g .  A heavy sigh leaves inflated lungs, and he’s re-positioned in his seat. It wasn’t until the sound of a tail wagging against the floor caught his attention that he peered down to the panting Mightyena at his side. He reaches down to scratch thick fur and several licks wet his hand. Tabitha utters a weak laugh and pats it once more,                               “ Hehehe... Yeah, you’re right. Gotta keep my head up. Only a few more hours of footage. ”   A few... more... hours. Then he could get some air, and some well deserved food.

Mask’s Calling: Lucifer Lorem. ( original character )

A muse I’m on the fence about roleplaying as.

                            Black coat flutters behind as steps much lighter than those of boots should have pad along carpeted hall, red daylight of two suns pouring in through windows as if to greet him every few feet. To think mere moments ago he was slumbering peacefully in his own bed, before rudely awakened by his assistant insisting he get to duties that surely would not do themselves. The bribery of tea helped. At the end of the hall plastered on the wall was a portrait, as tall as he, of a horned woman; fair skinned, obsidian hair pulled into a bun, orange eyes painted with black makeup with an intensity so real one could get lost in them, a feature he’d almost wished he hadn’t captured so carefully. Lilith, his beloved. Long gone from the world, a love he’d lost seemingly ages ago; but he’d never remove her paintings. Nor would he cease immortalizing her ethereal beauty and power, no matter how hard the memories came crashing in. With her was a young boy, practically a smaller version of her; Kaven, his son. Rather, the most recent version of him he’d known since he fled from the tragedy of his mother’s death. The uncertainty of the boy’s well being gnawed at him, and he too oft wished he could run. Surely she’d not want to see him, Lucifer King of Demon, cave into sorrows like a whimpering child. She gave him the strength to strive forward, he would  n e v e r  bow to defeat.                                  Crimson fingers curl ‘round door’s handle, and twists allowing it to swing inward to the dark room. Upon entering, with a wave of a hand candles in every direction light up and his spot at the desk is taken. Quill meets ink, and steady flawless strokes glide from its tip as the sound of pen writing and fireplace crackling fill the room. Shortly the door opens and footsteps approach, a tray of tea set next to him.  “ Your leaf water, sir. ”  A corner of Lucifer’s mouth twitches up involuntarily. There were very few who he’d show anything but a hard exterior toward, his assistant being one as he’d seen him at his worst.                             “ Thank you. Ah— before you leave. As you’ve wakened me, please refrain from overworking yourself and we’ll call it even... I  w i l l  know if you don’t. ”   He sips from the cup as he’s left alone, setting it down upon saucer with a light ‘ clink ’ before sounds of quill scratching upon paper resumes.