#stillgrows

[decomposited]

@stillgrows

Epsilon slumped into his chair and pressed his palms against the eyeholes of his mask. A muffled scream escaped between clenched teeth. This was bad. This was very bad.

“Are you satisfied now?” He asked Scaramouche, expecting they would have followed him back. He could feel them there, behind him, but even as he dragged his hands down his face and let them fall, he didn’t deign to look.

Perhaps he was the one unjustified here, behaving as he was. It was right for them to get the answers they wanted, he knew that. However, it didn’t change the fact that dragging everything out into the open was a uniquely painful experience. This all wasn’t even his own fault.

And if that was the truth, why did it feel so awful?

[oceanoecielo]

▸   @stillgrows  ​ ⟶   ❛  ❛  don't you think you've already done enough damage for one day?  ❜ // from martin, persnaps  ❜   ╱   (  forty questions , accepting .  )

“Damage?” Simon echoed, pale eyes wide, his usual smile suppressed but lurking just below the surface, ready to spring forward again at a moment’s notice.  The tips of his bony fingers brushed against the corner of Martin’s desk.  “I would hope that I wouldn’t get that from you, of all people.  Really, I’ve done nothing but help you… as well as I can, anyway.”  He couldn’t help his lack of knowledge because everything about the Fears was approximation and guesswork.  They were, by their very natures, utterly incomprehensible.

“I see no reason why we shouldn’t be…”  He trailed off, changing the direction of his sentence because he knew better than to use the f-word in its noun form around someone so heavily entrenched in the Lonely.  “…Friendly,” he rectified, raising his eyebrows.  The corners of his mouth got away from him, and a tiny smile broke through his best efforts.

“Really, I don’t want to hurt you, and you’ve already told me it would be perfectly useless to try.”  Without an exploitable fear of heights, Martin presented Simon with little more than a colossal waste of energy, and he would rather feed the Vast with people who didn’t require as much preparation.

“The way I see it—”  Simon paused, correct himself again.  Conversing with Martin, who came with so many strong biases, was a veritable minefield.  “Well… I must admit that I don’t understand where your profound dislike of me comes from.”  Now, he did allow his grin to overtake him, although he tried to keep it polite, innocent.  Truthfully, he had some inkling about it.  It was a test to see if Martin was still lying to himself about caring for more than a single person.  If Simon could get Martin to admit that anyone other than Jon was barely a blip on his existential radar, well… maybe they would be in business, after all.

[badnikbreaker]

@stillgrows / scaramouche & surge!

She's wounded — badly — when they happen across her. The hero that the GOOD DOKTOR built her to emulate is crueler every time they battle; cruelest because she won't DIE OR KILL HER COPY. Just break the copy, over and over. She's wounded, badly, when then the other puppet finds her, guts exposed, however briefly, until her viscera right itself, ribs re-aligning, flesh regrowing across her chest and stomach.

Her eyes open, and she gasps, and she sees — not the other puppet. Battered mind sees, for a moment, DOTTORE; she scrambles back, eyes huge. When she blinks, it's not the one that broke. But still someone ——— familiar ———— ?

Her memories are too scrambled to know why. She swallows thickly. She stares, head pounding, not standing. "What," she starts, then falters. "Who the fuck are you?"

[visionheld]

@stillgrows : "Kaveh, was it?" he asked as he slid into the seat beside the other. Last night was more of a blur than Kaeya had intended, but he hadn't counted on meeting someone he'd hit it off with so well at the bar. What was meant to be just a drink or two to begin his research of the Sumeru alcohol industry became several, and he was beginning to wonder if people in Mondstadt could hold their liquor as well as he thought. He lifted a hand in a small wave toward the owner as they made eye contact before focusing his lone blue eye on Kaveh once more. "I hope your roommate isn't too mad at me. He did seem a little..." Here, Kaeya trailed off, but it wasn't due to a lack of words—no, it was deliberate, allowing Kaveh the space to reveal more about himself.

Sumeru city is by no means a small town. Still, those who reside here are not entirely immune from getting used to seeing familiar faces. Especially if you’re considered famous and renowned like Kaveh, most people seem to know who you are before you’ve even said a word of introduction. It doesn’t help that the architect tends to spend all his nights in the same tavern. Kaveh loves his life and where he lives it. As miserable as it can be, he wouldn’t trade it for the world. Even so, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved to meet someone new for once. 

Meeting someone from an entirely different region of Teyvat is even more appealing. Kaveh isn’t entirely unfamiliar with Mondstadt, but he’s exclusively learnt about it in books. Meeting a local is an opportunity he doesn’t come upon often. So Kaveh had easily welcomed the other with open arms the night prior. 

Kaveh is just as welcoming as Kaeya ( Was it Kaeya? Truthfully the details of last night got hazy after the third glass of wine. ) approaches him a second time. The blonde smiles as Kaeya sits beside him, appearing in a warm and amiable mood. However that mood immediately sours the moment Alhaitham is mentioned.

“ Don’t get me started. ” Kaveh punctuates this with a swift swig of his wine, downing the entire glass in one gulp. When he speaks again there’s a slight slur in his speech. “Alhaitham’s a real…a real piece of work.”

He doubts Alhaitham is actually mad at Kaeya. Or if he was, the ire has long since passed. The scribe has an awful temper, but he rarely lets things linger like that. Grudges get in the way of logic and productivity. Most of the time for minor grievances he’ll just let it go. He just happens to have the most unpleasant personality on the planet and never forgets a damn thing. 

Besides, it’s not like Kaeya actually did anything wrong. He was just an innocent bystander. The mess last night was all Kaveh’s fault and Alhaitham knows that. If he were here now he’d probably say something irritating like ‘Kaveh’s emotional instability and alcoholism isn’t Kaeya’s responsibility.’ Kaveh can picture it so vividly in that insufferable know it all voice he has. 

But what does he know, huh? Kaveh bets Alhaitham doesn’t even know why he was so upset to start drinking in the first place. He bets he doesn’t know any of the fascinating things about Mondstadt that Kaeya told him last night. Bet he doesn't even know they make wine out of dandelion seeds over there.

No, he probably knows all that. That bastard knows everything.

“ Boss! ” Kaveh calls out to Lambad across the room, raising his empty glass. “ I'll have another! And keep them coming! ...Please. ”

The blonde only remembers his manners last minute, already too far gone to keep up appearances without a conscious effort. Ordinarily he wouldn't bother, but -- While he has his foreign acquaintance is beside him, he'd like to do his best to make a good impression. Though it might be too late for that, considering Kaeya was there to see Alhaitham throw Kaveh over his shoulder to take him home last night. Archons, what a mess...

Once his fifth glass is poured out and sipped from, Kaveh returns to his original subject.

“ I don't know why I ever decided to be friends with him back at the Akademiya. He's always been like this, bad tempered, rude, and stubborn. ”

“ You know I was pretty much his only friend back in those days. I guess I just...felt bad for him. He was so brilliant, even back then... But it felt like there was a vast desert of distance between him and everyone else. At the time, I think I just wanted to see if I could bridge that gap. But that was my mistake. ”

Kaveh scowls down at his reflection in the burgundy colored wine before downing it all again. He doesn't want to think about Alhaitham anymore tonight. He doesn't want to think anymore tonight period. He just needs to get a few more drinks in and it'll all fade away. It always does.

“ But enough about me... ” He offers Kaeya a lopsided smile, raising his elbow to the table and resting his face on his hand. “ I wanna know more about you! You're probably the most- ” Kaveh hiccups. “ --The most interesting person I've met since the traveler came to the city. What's it like being a knight? Being a calvary captain sounds so glamorous. But I imagine it has it downsides just like any other job. ”

[unblot]

" Don't bother-- " The young prefect gestures lazily to the ragged broom and dustpan the other is wielding. It's nice that Rollo wants to tidy up around here- Weird considering, well...everything. But still nice. Even so, the niceness of the sentiment hardly matters when... " The ghosts have their keg parties in here on Tuesday nights. "

Were it not for Yuusei's completely serious expression, it would be easy to surmise that he's joking around. But unfortunately he's not. He's serious and so is the massive mess that turns up every Wednesday morning in the lounge. This is Yuusei's life, and now...he guesses it's Rollo's too.

@stillgrows

[predvestnik]

@stillgrows asked from here: " . . . gross. " // judgy moushka persnaps

( 𝐵𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑, 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑, 𝑔𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑓𝑓 )

Indeed, ❛ for the faint of heart, ❜ Tartaglia sneers amidst the breath of a laugh. Blood pools near his boots as it drips from both Hydro blades used against the pair of Hilichurl rogues who thought it wise to try their hands at an ambush.

The water rapidly coursing through both weapons begins mixing with the color and soon gains a paler shade of it as red swirls along their shape. Tartaglia calls them off, hands bobbing once by his sides as to avoid getting anything of himself even dirtier. ❛ Are you that soft? ❜

[devolusion]

@stillgrows liked! / margo & ███████???

It's always been strange, having a conversation with the other mages — the other selves. ███████ hadn't noticed how wrong and strange and sick it feels until she'd begun trying to untangle herself from the others; she stares at her lover / her self and can feel Margo's anxiety as her own. She's noticed that something's off with —

Well. The mage can't remember their name today. Margo's noticed that something's off with them, as there has been for the last two months.

There's not much time left. Tomorrow, she'll find and destroy what's left of Serafima. ( her name comes easier. ) Her hands shake, lightning sparking beneath her flesh. There's not much time. Tomorrow, she'll kill / save her sister, and she'll disappear. She'll be alone. She'll be leaving the only person in the entire world who feels even sort - of - real with the monsters. Unless.

"Our blood's on fire," they say, voice trembling. They've told Margo some of it. Margo knows they were looking for Serafima. Has probably guessed that what they found is killing. They don't know if Margo is too far gone to care —— they wonder if they would be capable of caring, were the situation different. WANT THE SICK WANT THE MAGIC MORE MORE MORE! MAKE ME MORE!! So much risk for so little chance, but they can't — they love ——

"I — have you ever thought about — leaving?"

[synxis]

​𝐀 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋   box full of seeds, tucked away in storage. That's all he wanted. A task so simple it had no right to take more than a few minutes of his precious time, and yet, here he was, on hour four of scrolling through inventory lists. Ivo had many locations, dashed around Empire territory, with even more supplies, making this even more irritating. Tracking down which storage unit held his coveted box had run into a snag when the logs had come up empty. Apparently, somewhat recently, this specific unit had previously been gutted and its contents moved elsewhere. Where? Who knows. The log was a dead end, utterly unhelpful.

Luckily for Finitevus, Eggman was the paranoid sort, and the crate had been tagged. All he needed to do was some leg work.

— ✦ —

The tracker had led him to an unassuming building, featureless and largely tucked away, any potential visitors unwelcome. He peeks through a small window, opening a warp ring to let himself inside. Inside was just as unremarkable. Finitevus of all people would know by now — you've seen one Eggman Empire storage facility,  you've seen them all. Bleak, grey walls, rows of featureless cargo with the red logo branding them.

Except, the deeper he explores, the more he thought it strange, uncanny.  Eggman tech was present, but it was all modified in some way. Finitevus stills his exploring, eyes examining a box with another logo he did not recognize, yet could see the red of the Empire peeking out from underneath.  Metal fingers faintly trace the pattern with idle fascination.  Five stars and... toothpaste?

The distant sounds of music makes the echidna perk,  glancing down the hall to its source.

Ah. He wasn't alone.

@stillgrows ​

[decomposited]

@stillgrows

For someone who stood out as frequently as he did, Epsilon did not like being stared at. Normally, if you were off-putting enough, people would get intimidated or self-conscious enough to look away. 

Sandrone, Seventh of the Fatui Harbingers, appeared to have no such compunctions. Whether he was trying to make sense of the doll herself or the hulking machine that carried her about, Epsilon found the duo that comprised “Sandrone” disquieting. Her gaze, especially, since he could see perfectly well when her unblinking eyes were lingering on him from across the room. 

“Do you mind?” Epsilon asked at last, setting his coffee cup on the table in a decisive motion. This was what he got for trying to read a book in the common area for once. Sandrone, lurking in the background, watching. 

“If you aren’t going to say anything, get out of here. I’m not about to do anything entertaining for you.”

[pulsefelt]

happy birthday to a very special old man!!

[daytonvayle]

BTS from the cowgirl shoot for @seewateva_magazine.intl 🐮 •• 📸: @mg_one_photography •••• #seewatevamag #satx #satxmodel #cowgirl #countrygirl #guitar #lovewhatido #stillgrowing #buildingmybrand #texas #beauty #fashionmagazine #fashionmodel (at San Antonio, Texas) https://www.instagram.com/p/ClMN82UOCBQ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[ziarising]

#writerscommunity #stillgrowing #mindsetmotivation #positivechanges #writersofengland #igwriters #lifelessons #lifequotes #lifequotestoliveby #selfhelp #guilt #issues #poetsandwriters https://www.instagram.com/p/CmVLxafKMRV/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[darrellroach-blog]

Cuff exercise 1.1 by #darrellroach of #Darrellroachdesigns maker of #darrellroachjewelry to own this cuff dm me it did not come out perfect. Wearable and cool but not perfect. #Followme #handmadejewelry #Handmadedesigner #Artist #entrepreneurship #22years #stillgrowing #Charlotte #losangeles #newyork #florida #georgia #atlanta #Hollywood #inglewood #Jaipur #pinkcity #windviewcafe #india shoo other designs at www.drjeweldesign.com https://www.instagram.com/p/Cj7scxHgGhp/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[geodelart]

Still growing! #stillgrowing #dahlia #octoberfloral (at Rehoboth, Massachusetts) https://www.instagram.com/p/CjwIgxZL8Gd/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[unblot]

@stillgrows : "oh, fuck - in' - hell," clive says as he walks into the room and sets his eyes upon salem, each syllable held out a half second longer than needed. "is the secret to surviving whatever the fuck just being ginger? is that it?" he crosses the room with a brisk confidence, holding out a hand for a firm handshake once he's close enough to them. "clive schill, overhead industries, r&d. you've got me thinking now we need to rethink the old golden egg metaphor. what're we working with here? — a perfect fucking pack of bloody ginger nuts? eh, i'll workshop it."

The cold and clinical walls of Overhead Industries are not unfamiliar to Salem. In many ways it was their second home growing up, & currently the only home they're permitted to have. However, the ever changing faces of their caregivers and companions are predominately strangers to them. This does not even account for executives from other departments who seek Salem out like

Salem's acknowledgement of Clive is that of one towards a stranger, lacking any sort of warmth or friendliness. Though many would argue that they behave even colder to him than most would towards a stranger.

Salem merely nods in response to Clive words, staying silent & ignoring his outstretched hand completely. They've been instructed not to touch anyone on their own accord by their supervisors. Maybe Clive didn't get the memo. Salem decides to simply wait for him to drop his hand as they fix their empty dark eyes on his.

" Hello, Clive. " Their greeting is short and to the point, greatly contrasting Clive's own way of speaking. The vowels of Clive's name come out softer than most here would speak it, Salem's Louisiana accent making the name almost float into the air. They make no move to introduce themself. Salem concludes it's unnecessary, assuming that anyone seeking them out from another department would already have their name on file.

Their gaze briefly flickers downward before returning to Clive's face. "Do you know that your socks are mismatched?"

[predvestnik]

@stillgrows ( Sandrone ) ♡'d this for a starter.

Scientists, scholars, researchers or exclusively curious people — unique as people may be in their individuality, by virtue of their shared field, they also often share methodologies, manners and techniques in ways that can closely be described as... predictable. Tartaglia has met them, seen them in action, even heard of the many ways the pursuit of any type of knowledge can be employed destructively, much like a weapon.

Even so, he can't anticipate her, and thus he walks a fine line between his own curiosity and a lack of innate interest. It comes in waves, so to speak, as the natural consequence of possessing observational skills.

       ❛ Sooner or later you'll get wrinkles like this. ❜ Ignoring the low probability for such, he taps into his own investigative whims when the chance presents itself. In a skewed way, it's how he's found to shoot a 𝑾𝒉𝒚? towards the Marionette. By tangentially addressing the elephant in the room, there's the likelihood of getting an answer. Whichever it may be. ❛ Has anything gone wrong in your works this time? ❜