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added a couple of my self inserts fandom ocs to the blog (x) ~ (fandoms: vocaloid, dragon age)

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Thomasin was of the opinion that pretty people should be complimented. They should deny the compliments -- obviously, out of modesty, always -- and then be complimented more anyway. The person sitting alone before Thomasin's arrival was subjectively pretty and therefore objectively part of this logical machination, bigger then herself. That is to say, Thomasin had a way of treating someone special when there was no personal stakes in the matter whatsoever. The world simply worked this way for pretty people in her head (and really, Thomasin thought: everyone has their beauty in some way). Sometimes this sort of friendliness was perceived as flirting (humans always liked their vices) but lifting people up was the point. Thomasin always liked being perceived as kind, kind, kind, gentle, and always modest.

The bigger matter was that the person had been sitting alone. It was easy to get lost in crowds, which Thomasin liked, but lonely people were always so fascinating, so she liked that, too. Being a drifter new to town, the vampire hadn't even been aware of the special gift the individual before her possessed: never having heard her sing, it was a coincidence that the two would find each other at the same time and the same place.

She felt weary eyes on her sizing her up and offered an encouraging smile while she knew she was being observed. The reply that had been made didn't seem directed Thomasin's way, however, as the person ordered another drink. Was the woman drunk already? The accent was one the blond recognized, but chose not to comment on.

((guest art by roccobearart on tumblr))

A blue cocktail.

"Amazin' what people put into their bodies," Thomasin said, talking to her own swirling glass. She could also play the I'm-just-talking-to-myself game. "Whether it's bright blue, neon green, or a red the color of a blood moon. Nothin' stops hunger and thirst."

Nothin'.

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What a day.

After traveling from the west coast of California to the South with her brothers, the young vocalist was bored. Matias and Camilo were with their grandmother and tío while their pianist of the garage band, Yulia, took Ines out to a bar. It was thanks to her that the group were able to cough up enough money to take the next flight over. Her gift in her melodies have been getting the brunette anything she wanted.

“….”

Inez downed a whole blue cocktail, setting the cup down just as fast as she drank it. Yulia was somewhere in the lounge. Probably found a possible gig. She has been the one finding clients for the sibling trio.

The peach, sun-kissed woman looked over at the owner of the voice. Only their eyes weren’t pale. It was a trip. Can people be this pale? Is it healthy? Ines was dumbfounded. The mysterious woman’s flirting felt flattering. She wasn’t sure how to respond to it. Sure, she sings in front of large crowds but maintaining a conversation with a person was different than being entertainment.

“Should’ve drank slower..shit—It wouldn’t hurt for another.”

Her California accent was prominent. It gave away where she’s from. Not from LA or the valley, but at the Bay. Cognac brown eyes looked back at the bartender, waving her hand and ordering yet another blue cocktail.

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fredrick has his leg tugged forward and the rest of his body follows the momentum. Thrown off balance and calling backwards, Fredrick's head hits the ground first with a loud thud.

Blood flows out of the fresh wound (acidic, sizzling the carpet)

Because of Stitch from Disney's modern classic Lilo and Stitch, Fredrick fucking dies.

but do not worry. he will be back

eventually.

Fredrick yelps in a high pitch and tries to kick stitch into another dimension. unfortunately fredrick is not very strong.

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Fredrick yelps in a high pitch and tries to kick stitch into another dimension. unfortunately fredrick is not very strong.

The little furball stares.

He growls.

He yeets the book in his little paws, straight at the vampire's face.

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#see this is why i fucking hate animals

Yet there you were, in 1960-1970-whatever-the-fuck, fucking animals.

mentions @6em4k

"Yeah I hate animals AND I've fucked them. Got an issue with it?"

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It hits him squarely. Fredrick takes the blow, then the book slips off his face. "You little bastard." Through grit teeth.

The little furball stares.

He growls.

He yeets the book in his little paws, straight at the vampire's face.

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laughing uncontrollably

did you ever do fellatio for fredrick ad get acid in your throat too orrrr

"Yeah."

[mentioned @tepperz-rp ]

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"!!" She did such a good job, and he even rewarded her by making a funny face! "So silly-silly!" She said as she giggled and twirled in place once, as graceful as a ballerina, arms outstretched. Saiai wished that she could float as easily as she usually did -- but churches dampened her powers. Boo!

"~Don't ~do~ that ~ever again~" She repeated in sing-song, then sat on the table on the comfy threads that were just brought out and kicked her legs back an fourth. "Why not?"

When he came back, what he saw was parts of ripped clothes all over the floor, spaced apart in all sort of chaotic ways to make something that looked like an inverted spider web of rainbow colors. "I did it, I did it!" Saiai smiled and waved hello to a returning Nathanael.

"I made lots of things to practice sewing on!" She gestured grandly and proudly at the floor. "More pieces means more times to practice getting it just right!" She would do so good at learning to sew now. If not, they could be ripped apart again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again!

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When he came back, what he saw was parts of ripped clothes all over the floor, spaced apart in all sort of chaotic ways to make something that looked like an inverted spider web of rainbow colors. "I did it, I did it!" Saiai smiled and waved hello to a returning Nathanael.

"I made lots of things to practice sewing on!" She gestured grandly and proudly at the floor. "More pieces means more times to practice getting it just right!" She would do so good at learning to sew now. If not, they could be ripped apart again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again!

Saiai tipped over a bit with the box, then righted herself. Light as a feather, she wasn't used to carrying anything! She put the box on the table with a little squeaky grunt. She would pick it up again when it needed to go somewhere! "Okaaaay!! Oh! But, don't know how to sew!" She said, raising her hand charismatically. "I wanna, though! Lemmie help! Can you teach me!?" She wanted to help him, because then they could talk about you-know-what! Saiai didn't really know what you-know-what was, but she liked secrets! And she wanted to be around this good-smelling boy! It reminded her of her past, and also of curious things that she didn't understand!

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[ tepperz rp][character: Thomasin][starter for @europiium ]

A voice with southern twang that purred clearly before it's owner was seen: "A beautiful girl drinking alone? Can't have that." A shimmer of white satin as a delicate frame sat to the side of Ines at the bar. Everything about her was pale: her hair, her skin, her clothes, shining like the moon as she smiled with sheepish amusement. "At the very least, now there can be two beautiful girls drinkin' alone."

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@malaeartes continued from (X)

Ikebana - the artform was passé. 

Flowers were things that would die and wither so quickly, yet here they were taken care of for days, months, and even years in anticipation of a single bloom. And for what - a statement? An idea? 

Using flesh to carve out ideas was much more interesting.

And yet Itoshiki – as an artist – had enticed Necroid. When he had seen a magazine feature on the mysterious figure, many things had stuck out. The mystery of their identity, the way that the arrangements made by them had the natural wildness, but they always set the bar for the artform in a new way. And the way the model Itoshiki used had eyes that pierced and shined all at once with the color of the earth. 

It had made Necroid feel.... something. He wasn't sure what. He wanted to find out.

It was enough to make Necroid curious.

(never a good thing.)

"You don't want anyone to see you doing that."

He did, actually. A guard, an observer -- anyone that caught Necroid touching the flowers were bound to start a conversation. On cue, Necroid would flash a sheepish smile ("Oh, did I touch it? I hadn't realized."), fake his way forward ("My apologies."), and worm his way up the chain of command: (“Where is the gallery owner? I wish to say my regards on this beautiful piece.").

At the very least, Necroid wanted to find the model Itoshiki had used, the one with the glinting eyes. After research (and some money laundering, admittedly) he discovered that the model on payroll for the Itoshiki spread had been named Demian Köhler.

And when Necroid turned, he found him. The model. And -- if he was lucky in his guess -- perhaps the person who was even Itoshiki himself.

"Do you like that particular arrangement?"

"Hm..." Necroid smiled. "Do I...?" Then he took the moment to look into Demian's eyes.

Disappointing.

There was something about Demian's eyes in person that just wasn't... wasn't the same as the ones in the magazine. They looked dull, like everyone else's. There was no sparkle of hidden knowledge that Necroid thought he had seen. Coming here had been a waste.

Necroid looked back to the bouquet but kept up the same fake smile. "No," he said in a leveled voice. Now that the hunt was a bust, he wanted to jab at the artform with a critical spear. "Beauty can only be interpreted in so many ways." He glanced back to Damian for a reaction. 

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[tepperz-rp][strad][for chunhua] He recognized that glamor! It's been updated to modern times, but then -- so has he! It was none other then Chunhua, he was sure of it! Realizing he was looking at her a little too long, Strad waved and smiled! It was nice to see a familiar face.

The demon had been leaning against a half wall, sipping on a lemonade. Baggy crop top, wrap pants, blue waist beads, and sandals a much different glamoured look than she used to go clubbing.

Blinking through heart-shaped sunglasses she glanced over her shoulder than back at the waving man. She didnt know him....? oh well. A half-hearted (polite) wave offered in return.

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Fredrick what the f—- How can you be so unintentionally funny xD

"Maybe it's all intentional, did you ever think of that? Maybe I'm only playing the fool so I can get stuck in your brain. Everyone's little brain. I'm playing you all like fools. Your guard will be down and you will never know when I will STRIKE to ACHIEVE MY GOALS!!!!!"

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"It does. I'm good at what I do." He looked nonplussed that she didn't pick up the card. "You don't look like a monkey -- but you do stink like one, so I guess I'll believe it." A shrug.

"You have no idea what I can afford. But the fact that you have a price means you know the worth of money. Are you wealthy?"

"Why is the anthropomorphized rodent talking to me? Do you belong to someone? Be a good pet rat and squeak when you're spoken to. Also here's my number." He tosses his business card at her. "I'm a manager, I'll get you gigs."

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if you had to name three things you like about fredrick vonstine, what would they be?

"I like that he spurts blood when I hit him."

"I like how good he makes me look by comparison."

"Aaaaand - I like his gusto."

[mentioned @tepperz-rp ]

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#no one tell him

tell me what

"This'll be good."

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"Shut your annoying mouth, I'm making a connection with someone who isn't a fucking monkey (x)."

"This'll be good."