thequietpickpocket

[thequietpickpocket]

Alright!! I’ll mostly be staying on Dewey’s new blog for now since I’ve got tons of inspiration for him at the moment, and my inspiration for Mika has been dwindling a little (I don’t want to write halfhearted replies). So if I seem quiet on this blog, that’s why!! I’ll be back when my muse for Mika returns, though!

[thequietpickpocket]

ivory-rabbit:

Dogs were usually such friendly animals, and this dog was not an exception. Kieran smiled down at him as the dog leaned into his hand as he patted his head. And he seemed protective of his human friend here, a good travelling companion. He turned his attention back to the other traveller, who seemed to be pointing something out to him on the map he’d pulled from his gear.

It was now clear that, though they seemed to have a language in common - nice, not always something he encountered whilst travelling - she either could not or chose not to speak. And that was just fine; the Guardian nodded in response to her gesture, and made a mental note to consider how he phrased his questions from here onward. Yes and no questions were likely the easiest to answer. He filed that away as he glanced down at where she was pointing, reading out the name in question. “The Tolming River - is that right?”  that would be useful information to have, make it that much easier to gather information and track his path through this plane. It didn’t seem like that long of a walk from where she tapped on the map to the next labelled town, not when he’d already been walking for, well… time was sort of a relative thing anyway, wasn’t it?

“And Larnwick. I see - thank you for your help,” he answered once he was sure she was done pointing out places. The weather was nice, so the walk would probably be a pleasant one. The question that remained now was: what could he offer this person in exchange? She wasn’t the one lost after all, and he wouldn’t have been able to offer directions anyway. Perhaps she liked plants, or mushrooms? He’d collected berries on the way here, and it was such a sunny day that he likely wouldn’t need them himself. Or he could make her something, perhaps. He turned from looking at the path before them back to looking at her, “Is there anything I could do to help you, as a trade? I have a bit of food with me, if you’d like - berries I picked this morning.”

——————————————————————————

thequietpickpocket:

She blinked at his offer, surprised. He wanted to give her something in return for such a small favor? True, Mika valued trades and fair exchanges. After all, everything had a price. But she still hadn’t expected him to offer anything. She’d only provided directions. She hadn’t given him anything material, anything worth money, anything valuable. Food was worth more than such simple information.

With most people, such an undeserved offer earned her suspicion. It hinted at deception; luring her into a false sense of security. But he sounded sincere. And he’d already seemed kindhearted and honest from the start. Surely he didn’t intend to hurt her.

Besides, his offer immediately made her hungry. Oh, she longed to accept right away. As much as she distrusted strangers — even nice ones — food was something she always struggled to refuse. She hesitated, then nodded. Berries sounded wonderful. The child appreciated any scraps she could scavenge in towns. But she often found that food on the trails — simple and fresh — was preferable.

Mika rummaged in the bag at her side. She pulled out her notebook and pencil, scribbled inside, and showed it to him. ‘Thank you. Berries sound good.’ Her manners were rusty, but forgoing politeness was risky. She didn’t want to appear ungrateful. There was another message beneath the first. ‘Path to Larnwick is difficult.’ Difficult wasn’t quite right. It was hard to come up with proper words in the moment. ‘Are you heading there?’

Her expression was serious, tinged with concern. She didn’t want him to lose his way. She didn’t think him unintelligent, but the trail was tricky for most people. Even in nice weather, even during the day. Mika herself had gotten lost there before. She knew better now. And if his offer of berries was genuine — doubt still lingered in her mind — she wanted to repay him more fully for his generosity, somehow.

[thequietpickpocket]

landilizandra:

“She’s very old,” Landilizandra said, smiling as she continued onward, holding a branch out of the way so that Mika and Cain could walk past her. “Which means she’s very powerful. Dragons don’t weaken with age, the way other creatures do. The older they get, the bigger they get, and the stronger they get. This one is very big, so she must be very old as well.”

She kept walking, trying to think. “She’s an albino, I believe. Her scales are pale, with a hint of pink to them, and her eyes and markings are red. She has black horns, though, and black teeth and claws.”

——————————————————————————

thequietpickpocket:

Mika followed the woman, nodding as Landilizandra spoke, committing her comments to memory. It was fascinating to listen and learn, and even more fascinating to imagine the dragon’s appearance. And they were going to see this dragon in person.

Mika felt excited, but nervous. Dragons were massive, strong. In her mind, this meant they could easily crush or set aflame those who bothered them. She didn’t want to do anything that might offend the creature. She would follow Landilizandra’s lead.

She skipped forward a step to walk beside the woman, Cain trotting close behind them. The girl scribbled a message in her notebook, still clutched in her hand, and showed it to Landilizandra. ‘Dragons can talk, right?’

[thequietpickpocket]

lightheartedlich:

Abraham didn’t even move a single muscle – or equivalent – when Cain the dog came bounding towards him, seemingly out of nowhere as he hadn’t activated any magic to detect people or animals approaching him unexpectedly.

Perhaps the lich didn’t realize what had gotten Cain so excited and just thought he wanted to play, or maybe he just didn’t care. Either way, he knew he could defend himself against a single dog. Without injuring him, of course. That was enough for him not to worry about letting him approach.

Seeing the animal obey Mika’s silent commands told him all he needed to know about the relationship between the two. She may not have anyone else, but she had Cain.

“Don’t worry,” he told the girl, hoping to ease the worry in her eyes. “You can let him get closer. He won’t hurt me.”

Abraham held out a skeletal hand towards the dog. “There, there. Good boy. …Or good girl?” he asked, hoping Mika would tell him which of the two was appropriate here.

His bones had no marrow in them, which was the part dogs usually went for. Sooner or later, Cain would realize Abraham was not a source of food. Not in that sense, anyway. Dog treats were surprisingly easy to create out of the rawest of materials.

That was one of the limitations of magic – it was impossible to create something out of nothing. Whatever the spell was, it always required some kind of matter, and the more that matter resembled the desired thing, the less magic was needed to produce it – not that that was any concern to the lich, who had vast amounts of power at his disposal. Still, if Abe wanted to bribe the animal with something tasty that wasn’t his own bones, he’d need to make it out of something else.

Even if… that something else was air. Carbon dioxide and nitrogen… those contained almost all the elements he needed. Focusing intently, his eye lights darkened while a green gemstone on his necklace began to glow.

With a ripple, the air solidified into a bone-shaped dog treat in his palm, the gemstone returned to normal, and Abraham’s eye lights brightened again.

——————————————————————————

thequietpickpocket:

Good boy or good girl. Mika grinned and held up one finger. The first. Boy.

She gasped and took a step back as Abraham’s eyes darkened and his gemstone glowed, ready to run if needed. Did it mean danger? Had he finally decided to turn on her?

She admired magic, but she didn’t understand it, and she wouldn’t underestimate it. Liches were unfamiliar as well. Abraham seemed nice, but perhaps it was easier for liches to feign such a trait. After all, it was more difficult for her to tell if he was lying. Facial expressions revealed deception in humans. She couldn’t read him as well. She didn’t know the telltale signs of danger to watch for.

But she stopped when she saw the bone treat take shape in his palm. Again, amazement shone in her eyes. And hunger gleamed in the eyes of her dog. He snatched the snack from Abraham’s grasp as soon as his skeletal hand was within biting distance. The treat vanished in a few crunches.

The dog wagged his tail, hunger sated for the moment. He trotted back to where Mika stood and pressed against her side. She pet him absently, relieved the dog hadn’t chomped Abraham’s finger bones when he grabbed the treat.

She gave Abraham a grateful smile, but it was more hesitant this time. Doubt had resurfaced in her mind. Why? Why was he doing this? It was too much. Undeserved. She hadn’t done anything for him. She understood kindness — she’d met generous people who hadn’t expected anything in return before. But it had been a while since she’d last encountered one of those people. Sometimes she forgot they existed. Cynical? Perhaps. But realistic in her mind, after years on the streets and trails.

In general, nothing came for free. What could she give him in return? Her brow furrowed in thought. Eventually, she scribbled in her notebook again and showed it to him. ‘How can I repay you?’ What was the price for an apple and a bone, both created with magic? She couldn’t use magic herself. She had no money besides a few stray coins, stolen during the day. But giving him nothing in return was dangerous. She didn’t want to owe him a debt.

[thequietpickpocket]

Alright!! I’ll mostly be staying on Dewey’s new blog for now since I’ve got tons of inspiration for him at the moment, and my inspiration for Mika has been dwindling a little (I don’t want to write halfhearted replies). So if I seem quiet on this blog, that’s why!! I’ll be back when my muse for Mika returns, though!

[thequietpickpocket]

Roleplay blog for a tired librarian with a rift between universes in one corner of his bookshop.

Semi-selective, fandomless, set in Manhattan in the early 1930s, written by Laura 〚 about || rules 〛

[thequietpickpocket]

thoseofonen:

Hilda read both questions of Mika’s aloud, then looked up to Ingvar. They were directed towards him, so he ought to answer, right?

Ingvar looked terribly relieved. You seem nice, she’d said. Did he? Did he really? Oh, he hoped so. What a relief indeed. Most humans thought he looked far too scary, or that he might gobble them up. But not Mika. Not Hilda. “I glad you isn’t frightened,” he admitted, “A-and that I… seeming nice.” He raised a hand and gestured to Hilda. “This my friend,” the giant said, then returned his hand to his knee. “It nice to be meeting you, Miss Mika.” he bowed his head for good measure.

“You, uh, wouldn’t happen to know of any safe places for me and the big guy,” Hilda pitched in, “would you?”

——————————————————————————

A soft sigh left her at his response. It didn’t really answer anything. She’d accepted that they were somehow friends — and overlooking Ingvar’s size, it made sense, given how nice he was. But how were they friends? That was the real question. Still, she gave him a faint smile. In any case, seeing his relief convinced her his demeanor was genuine.

She looked over when Hilda spoke. Safe places? She frowned in thought, trying to remember. It made sense that such a strange pair would need a safe place to stay. And Mika was certain she did know a spot they could find shelter. A rather good spot. It wasn’t her favorite hideaway, but for a giant, it would certainly be the safest. But...

She nodded slowly, then wrote another message and showed it to them.

‘I do but it’s hard to show on a map. Will you follow me?’

[thequietpickpocket]

Okay I’m sorry I’m posting about this again, but I’m super inspired now!! Theoretically, if I did make a blog for George Dewey (an original character), would anyone be interested in roleplaying with him?? He’s a fandomless librarian/bookshop owner living in New York in the early 1930s who’s tired and trying his best, but his shop just happens to have a rift between universes in one corner. This makes verse mechanics really easy to figure out (since nearly anyone can “stumble” into his bookshop, and it’s possible for him to “stumble” into other verses). You definitely don’t have to rp with him if you like this post!! I’m just gauging interest level, since I really support him and I’m hoping to make a blog for him soon, and I don’t have anywhere else to mention this.

[thequietpickpocket]

I forgot to add george dewey to the list of original characters I want to roleplay as in that last post and I feel bad because I support him so much

[thequietpickpocket]

ROLEPLAYING HISTORY.

post ten characters you currently roleplay as, roleplayed in the past, might bring back, and would like to roleplay as. then tag people to do the same. if you can’t think of ten characters, just write down however many you can think of. please repost instead of reblogging !

Currently roleplaying:

mika  //  fandomless fantasy oc

roscuro, evelyn, thomas  //  fandomless steampunk oc multimuse (I did a ton of world-building and character development for this blog; it’s currently low activity because I’m focusing on mika for now; still, if you’re interested in checking it out, send me a message and let me know!!)

sideblog for the previous blog (multimuse for nine minor characters in the same verse, with other minor characters available upon request)

Roleplayed in the past:

chara // undertale (my first muse...)

Might bring back:

cassie // oc for the book/movie nerve (she was one of my favorite original characters, but I got caught up in the elitist part of the roleplay community where everyone ignores you unless you have a super fancy theme and formatting, even if you have a decent character)

alice // alice in wonderland (my second muse...)

Like to roleplay one day:

pied piper of hamelin //  interpretation (I have his blog all set up, I’m just nervous and uncertain about actually starting it!!)

the batter, zacharie, and the judge //  OFF (by mortis ghost) (I could ramble about this game for actual hours, so if you’re interested in talking about it with someone, I AM HERE)

the boy // INSIDE (by playdead) (another game I could ramble about for actual hours; again, if you’re interested in talking about it, YES)

mary smith // mary and the witch’s flower

six  //  little nightmares

nirren // soulless faerie oc (the most chaotic neutral character I’ve ever made; another muse where I have the blog almost completely finished, but I’m nervous about starting)

charlotte mayfield // fandomless southern gothic oc (whom i adore, and I’m mostly done with her blog, but again, too nervous to start it)

george dewey // fandomless librarian oc who’s tired and trying his best, but his store just happens to be a rift between universes

tagged by : nobody, just thought it looked fun!!

tagging : anyone who wants to try!!

[thequietpickpocket]

rp sentence starters - 5 w’s 

WHO?

“ Who are you? “

“ Who are you really? “

“ Who was that? “

“ Who’s there? “

“ Who am I? “

“ Who cares? “

“ Who knows? “

WHAT? 

“ What’s going on? “

“ What are you? “

“ What just happened? “

“ What do we do now? “

“ What are you doing here? “

“ What do you know about me? “

“ What do you know about them? “

“ What the hell? “

“ What happened to you? “

“ What happened to us? “

WHEN?

“ When did this happen? “

“ When did you get that bruise? “

“ When did all of this start? “

“ When are you going to start telling the truth? “

“ When did you first start lying to me? “ 

“ When can I see you again? “

“ When’s dinner? “

“ When are we gonna get there? “

WHERE? 

“ Where am I? “

“ Where are we? “

“ Where are we going? “

“ Where are you going? “

“ Where have you been all this time? “

“ Where have I been? Uh… See… I can explain… “

“ Where were you when I needed you? “

WHY? 

“ Why did you do that? “

“ Why are we doing this again? “

“ Why are you doing this? “

“ Why did you hit me? “

“ Why did you kill them? “

“ Why do you hate me? “

“ Why do you love me? “

“ Why don’t we ever talk anymore? “ 

“ Why do I love you? “

“ Why did you do something so stupid? “

“ Why are you up so late? “

[thequietpickpocket]

12. How does their education and intelligence – or lack thereof - reflect in their speech pattern, vocabulary, and pronunciations?; 21. What are your character’s manners like? What is their type of hero? Whom do they hate?

character solidifying ~ always accepting

12. How does their education and intelligence – or lack thereof - reflect in their speech pattern, vocabulary, and pronunciations?

Since Mika rarely speaks, I’ll answer this in terms of how she phrases things in her writing! Although she writes in her notebook many times on most days, her vocabulary is still basic. She uses simple, short, straightforward words, as well as contractions (“I’m,” “don’t”, “haven’t,” “you’re,” etc.) to shorten the amount of time she needs to write each message.

She learned the basics of writing in her home as a child (homeschooling was the main way children learned reading, writing, etc. in her village). But after losing her village and family, her skill level in writing just… stagnated. She had no one to teach her, and she was too focused on surviving to improve on her own. Furthermore, having advanced skill in writing isn’t necessary to survive on the streets. She knows enough words to get her thoughts across and ask for what she needs from people. In terms of ability, she can write at about a fourth grade level.

Her knowledge of sign language is also limited to the essentials. She learned most of it from a childhood friend/neighbor who was deaf (named Norel). She also met another traveler (Brenden) who knew sign language. He taught her more signs during the short time they knew each other. Since most other people she meets don’t know sign language, she doesn’t have much practice communicating in this way. So when she does have a chance to show her skill, her gestures are still a little hesitant and slow.

21. What are your character’s manners like? What is their type of hero? Whom do they hate?

Mika needs to simplify her thoughts when writing them down, so she sometimes comes across as blunt. The simple manners she learned as a child are also quite rusty from underuse, though she is still better-behaved around elders and anyone else her parents taught her to respect (especially magic-users). Overall, she isn’t even close to being an expert in politeness or good manners. Stealing things from people is generally frowned upon.

Regardless, due to a few bad experiences, she is always worried about offending/upsetting people or provoking them to violence. She considers her bluntness a necessary risk, but a risk all the same. Unless she is truly frustrated with someone, she is as careful as possible in how she behaves and phrases things when interacting with them. She is quick to apologize if she suspects someone is irritated with her. With most people, she isn’t polite for the sake of making them feel respected and comfortable. She is polite because she wants to remain safe. If the safest option is running away, she’ll take it.

Mika is quite cynical and doesn’t consider any type of person a genuine “hero.” Still, she admires people who are patient and “listen” to what she has to say rather than immediately judging or ignoring her. She dislikes condescending, arrogant people who interrupt others or act “above them,” and cruel people who are quick to violence. If someone treats her dog (or any other animal) poorly, she immediately hates them. These are the types of people she’s most likely to steal from if she has an option.

[thequietpickpocket]

[thequietpickpocket]

Character solidifying!

1. How does your character think of their father? What do they hate and love about him? What influence - literal or imagined - did the father have? 2. Their mother? How do they think of her? What do they hate? Love? What influence - literal or imagined - did the mother have? 3. Brothers, sisters? Who do they like? Why? What do they despise about their siblings? 4. What type of discipline was your character subjected to at home? Strict? Lenient? 5. Were they overprotected as a child? Sheltered? 6. Did they feel rejection or affection as a child? 7. What was the economic status of their family? 8. How does your character feel about religion? 9. What about political beliefs? 10. Is your character street-smart, book-smart, intelligent, intellectual, slow-witted? 11. How do they see themselves: as smart, as intelligent, uneducated? 12. How does their education and intelligence – or lack thereof - reflect in their speech pattern, vocabulary, and pronunciations? 13. Did they like school? Teachers? Schoolmates? 14. Were they involved at school? Sports? Clubs? Debate? Were they unconnected? 15. Did they graduate? High-School? College? Do they have a PHD? A GED? 16. What does your character do for a living? How do they see their profession? What do they like about it? Dislike? 17. Did they travel? Where? Why? When? 18. What did they find abroad, and what did they remember? 19. What were your character’s deepest disillusions? In life? What are they now? 20. What were the most deeply impressive political or social, national or international, events that they experienced? 21. What are your character’s manners like? What is their type of hero? Whom do they hate? 22. Who are their friends? Lovers? ‘Type’ or ‘ideal’ partner? 23. What do they want from a partner? What do they think and feel of sex? 24. What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually? 25. What are their hobbies and interests? 26. What does your character’s home look like? Personal taste? Clothing? Hair? Appearance? 27. How do they relate to their appearance? How do they wear their clothing? Style? Quality? 28. Who is your character’s mate? How do they relate to him or her? How did they make their choice? 29. What is your character’s weaknesses? Hubris? Pride? Controlling? 30. Are they holding on to something in the past? Can he or she forgive? 31. Does your character have children? How do they feel about their parental role? About the children? How do the children relate? 32. How does your character react to stress situations? Defensively? Aggressively? Evasively? 33. Do they drink? Take drugs? What about their health?  34. Does your character feel self-righteous? Revengeful? Contemptuous? 35. Do they always rationalize errors? How do they accept disasters and failures? 36. Do they like to suffer? Like to see other people suffering? 37. How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories? 38. Are they basically negative when facing new things? Suspicious? Hostile? Scared? Enthusiastic? 39. What do they like to ridicule? What do they find stupid? 40. How is their sense of humor? Do they have one? 41. Is your character aware of who they are? Strengths? Weaknesses? Idiosyncrasies? Capable of self-irony? 42. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain? 43. Does your character have any secrets? If so, are they holding them back? 44. How badly do they want to obtain their life objectives? How do they pursue them? 45. Is your character pragmatic? Think first? Responsible? All action? A visionary? Passionate? Quixotic? 46. Is your character tall? Short? What about size? Weight? Posture? How do they feel about their physical body? 47. Do they want to project an image of a younger, older, more important person? Does they want to be visible or invisible? 48. How are your character’s gestures? Vigorous? Weak? Controlled? Compulsive? Energetic? Sluggish? 49. What about voice? Pitch? Strength? Tempo and rhythm of speech? Pronunciation? Accent? 50. What are the prevailing facial expressions? Sour? Cheerful? Dominating?

[thequietpickpocket]

lightheartedlich:

If the lich noticed the mark on Mika’s hand that might have given away what she had really been doing before the two of them had run into one another, he didn’t show it. But the fact was that he did.

He didn’t know what to think of it, though. Even if she was a thief, he doubted a child as soft-spoken as her would– wait, bad choice of words. She may not make any sounds when speaking, but the way she acted and something about her handwriting still gave him an impression of what tone she would have had behind her words.

Whatever the reason may have been, he decided it was nothing to berate her for. Not at the current moment.

His diamond-shaped eye lights continued to patiently watch the kid, without a sign of judgment or other negative feelings.

He noticed the way she had reacted to his little gift, too. It wasn’t much, but maybe it would end up being useful at some point. You never know.

Abraham knew that those who lost something didn’t always want it back, no matter how much they might miss it or how inconvenient it was not to have. Sometimes, the lack of that thing became as much a part of the person as the original thing had been.

He could know. After all these years, he couldn’t imagine himself as a normal, mortal human anymore.

Were those things even comparable at all? The lich didn’t want to judge.

So when Mika replied with a request that was far more simple – not just in terms of how many ways to do it, but also in terms of the amount of effort he’d need to fulfill it – he nodded.

“Well, I don’t have any yet, but… here, I’ll see if I can make you anything.”

Skeletal hands felt around in the deep pockets of his blue robe, before retrieving a small pouch full of seeds. He always kept these around for situations like this one, when someone was in need of something to eat. Even if that someone was himself, in one of the few cases where he actually did need to.

Abraham carefully put one of the seeds in his cupped palm, making sure it didn’t fall through the gaps between his bones. Then, he looked at it intently for a moment.

In a matter of seconds, the seed grew into a shiny red apple.

“Here.” He crouched and offered the fruit. “Is this alright? I have more if you’re really hungry.”

——————————————————————————

thequietpickpocket:

Mika stared in awe as the seed grew into an apple. Her grasp was gentle as she accepted it, as though she expected it to collapse back into a seed if she wasn’t careful. When it remained solid, she slipped it into her bag for safekeeping, knowing she needed to make it last. There was a hint of childlike wonder back in her eyes as she looked at Abe again. She smiled gratefully and mouthed a silent ‘Thank you.’

Her brow furrowed in disbelief when he offered more. Then she bit her lip and shook her head in hasty dismissal. She was hungry, but she couldn’t ask for anything else. She already owed him a debt for his generosity, and she didn’t know how to repay him yet. Apples were good, though. Her dog liked apples.

Oh, but — oh no. When Mika ventured out to pickpocket, her dog usually stayed in the alley they’d taken shelter in. She visited him throughout the day to make sure he was safe, but he sometimes got worried and went looking for her. It had been a long time since she’d last checked in on him.

She didn’t know how well it would go for him to meet someone made entirely of bones.

And with perfect timing, she heard a bark from behind her. She spun around to see Cain’s shaggy form emerge from around the alley corner. He paused and stared towards them for a moment. Then his ears perked up in excitement — just as she’d imagined, Cain saw bones, not a person. And in the next second he’d sprinted towards them.

If she could, she would’ve said “NO” to catch his attention and get him to stop — and even after years of silence, her mouth still opened on instinct — but she couldn’t say a word. So she held her breath and quickly raised her hands in front of her in a firm ‘stop’ gesture. Fortunately the alley was long and gave the dog time to respond. He slowed and stopped a few feet from her, his head tilted in confusion.

Mika breathed a sigh of relief and held one hand towards the dog, inviting him to come closer at a calmer pace. He trotted over and pressed his wet nose into her palm in greeting. He stared hungrily at the lich as she turned back around, still curious why a skeleton was present. A low growl rumbled in his throat. Mika rubbed the dog’s neck until he settled down and leaned against her legs.

She gave Abraham an apologetic look. Cain was friendly, but he was also protective and excitable. He could be intimidating when he sprinted full-speed at someone. And this person had just given her food — having her dog knock him over and try biting him wouldn’t be the best way to show gratitude.

[thequietpickpocket]

I love how nature simply is. It doesn’t pretend. It doesn’t conceal. It whispers, it sings, it reveals. It takes from itself and gives abundantly back to itself. It transforms but it never alters. It fiercely punishes but it also preserves and contains. Such raw magnificent simplicity and honesty in its processes. The entire verb “to be” freely flowing and teaching sustenance, truth and raw perseverance.

[thequietpickpocket]

By Fernando Morales