tutumorrow-blog

[tutumorrow-blog]

@megaloovania

do you mean 

the rock or

rock

[tutumorrow-blog]

@bravefists

                ❝ As I understand it, not many humans                 are down here for once. Judging by you                 finding me here, you’ve met the brothers                 by now, yes? ❞

Her voice breaks at mentioning the skeletons. Her phone, for the first four days after her sudden absence, had been buzzing off the hook. She’d assumed that the two had forgotten about them. Even as she had been desperate to get away from them, she now finds herself... missing them, strange as the concept is. Her voice is soft, sorrowful as she poses her next words to the other.

                ❝ ... How are they? ❞

[tutumorrow-blog]

@bittersweetbuttercups

                ❝ I’m fine---I’m f i n e. I can do this. I                 have to do this. Maybe if--WHEN I do                 this, I’ll finally be useful. When I do                 this, my brother will be proud of me.                 Don’t try to convince me otherwise. ❞

[tutumorrow-blog]

🎶 teatroubled.

        ❝ Fair enough, my friend. I, too, share a similiar sentiment. ❞

    His smile does not reach his eyes. He     is not a kind being, not anymore, but at     least he would not tell a full lie. Asgore     can sense the other’s tension– he can     smell fear, one might say– and he is     delighted.

            Goddamn right you should be scared of me.

        ❝ A lovely name! It sounds like a flower. A blue one, I’d think.         I would not dare tarnish its beauty by clipping it so. ❞

                ❝ Do not call me that. ❞

Her words are clipped, tone pulled taut as if it were a string preparing to be snapped. It seems that his phrase had struck something within her; her SOUL seems to jump to life behind her clothing, emitting a pulsing, angry blue glow from before the other’s very eyes. To her, it is the way composers try to make their mark on a musical number with the percussion instrumentals but make it sound vengeful... and she has to quell the sound, if she does not wish to taste metal on the tip of her tongue. She doesn’t want someone associated with poison and erasure of a life calling her such a privileged title.

                ❝ ... Regardless, thank you. The only type                 of flower that comes to mind is a type of                 Ranunculaceae--one called Aquilegia,                 William Guiness. Otherwise known as the                 magpie. The color is not quite blue as it is                 violet or royal purple, but still. ❞

[tutumorrow-blog]

soldatdor:

It has been said that a virtue is a mean between two extremes. However, this mean is difficult to accomplish because no one is perfect, especially not our muses — show us their bad side. Bold the extreme of each virtue your muse is more prone to. Take in even the slightest preference or tendency. Bonus: put a * after each pair of traits that has changed sides during their life. Feel free to tell about it in the tags as well.

POLITENESS:         untruthfulness  vs  rudeness   FIDELITY:                 obstinacy  vs  fickleness   WISDOM:                  guile  vs  folly  * TEMPERANCE:       abstinence  vs  dissipation   COURAGE:               recklessness  vs  cowardice   JUSTICE:                  vindictiveness  vs  indifference   GENEROSITY:         wastefulness  vs  stinginess  * COMPASSION:        segregation  vs  cruelty  * MERCY:                    apologism  vs  hatred  * GRATITUDE:            complacency  vs  nostalgia   HUMILITY:                weakness  vs  egotism   SIMPLICITY:            simplism  vs  magniloquence   TOLERANCE:          negligence  vs  bigotry   PURE:                       naivety  vs  corruptness  * GENTLENESS:       passivity  vs  irascibility   CANDOUR:               exhibitionism  vs  insincerity  * HUMOUR:                 buffoonery  vs   boorishness  

[tutumorrow-blog]

lmfao anyways. starter call

[tutumorrow-blog]

Close your tired eyes; relax, and then count from one-to-ten, and open them. All these heavy thoughts will try to weigh you down, but NOT THIS TIME. Way up in the air, you’re finally free, and you can stay up there with… right next to me. All this gravity will try you pull you down, but NOT THIS TIME.

Annazolie! Stay true to yourself…

[tutumorrow-blog]

aahh i have to go to bed but i’m going to reblog my self promo and starter call for tomorow

[tutumorrow-blog]

@coquettishcrown

                ❝ I don’t need your help, mister. I’m doing                 just fine on my own. ❞

She’s apparently trying to play off the fact that he could have very well caught her stealing from the bakery nearby; plus, it would be kind of obvious since she has a small bag packed with carefully wrapped pastries if he noticed the frantic and furious employees outside the store.

[tutumorrow-blog]

bravefists *liked.

                ❝ I’m f-- ❞

Her reassurances are cut off by the muted yelp that catches in her throat as she attempts to apply pressure to her left foot. She takes a deep breath to force the sting of the pain away ( and also to keep the tears at bay ) and she realizes that she may have sprained it pretty bad this time. Again.

                ❝ ... It’s but a sprain. I can walk it off. ❞

[tutumorrow-blog]

🎶 teatroubled.

        ❝ Now, now, that’s no way to greet someone, is it? ❞

    He smiles, and oh, how COLD does his     voice ring. Tendrils of shadow threaten     to black out the surrounding area, but     hold themselves back for now. Asgore     is a being of restrained F U R Y– pac-     ing himself is key to his success.

        ❝ Though, for me, that statement may very well be a compliment. Ahh–         Howdy. My name is Asgore. And you? ❞

                ❝ I dislike liars. Why be a hypocrite. ❞

Her question is more reserved, more a statement than one to be answered; it’s not quite rhetorical but it could be considered such, even when answered in obvious intent to irritate. Sapphire jewels twist to meet the other’s, and the sound described earlier gets even louder. She’s only heard this sound once before. When she first saw her father’s killer. The one who held no remorse for what he did and gladly took credit--gladly went to prison for his deeds. She tries to not let her flicker of fear appear again.

                ❝ ... It is a pleasure to meet you, Asgore.                 I’m Annazolie. Feel free to shorten it in                 any way you please. ❞

[tutumorrow-blog]

bravefists:

HOW sleep the brave, who sink to rest

By all their country’s wishes blest!

When Spring, with dewy fingers cold,

Returns to deck their hallow’d mould,

She there shall dress a sweeter sod

Than Fancy’s feet have ever trod.

     penned by finn.

[tutumorrow-blog]

@ribdiculous

                ❝ ...Sans... ❞

Her voice is openly upset--torn betwixt two unknown sources, and her sapphire hues are fixed on a distant object, even if she’s really only watching the snow fall. Then, suddenly, her gaze are fixed on the skeleton nearby her, lips pressed into a thin line.

                ❝ I’m going to be honest with you; I’m                 terrified of, and for, your brother. He                 reminds me of mine. ❞

There’s something in her words that makes her sound older than she is.

[tutumorrow-blog]

Close your tired eyes; relax, and then count from one-to-ten, and open them. All these heavy thoughts will try to weigh you down, but NOT THIS TIME. Way up in the air, you’re finally free, and you can stay up there with... right next to me. All this gravity will try you pull you down, but NOT THIS TIME.

Annazolie! Stay true to yourself...

[tutumorrow-blog]

🎶 perseverancex.

      IT WAS TRUE.Bailey couldn’t make the other do anything.        Still, they cross their arms & cock a brow  —-  they know they         ought to leave it at that, but that wasn’t really their nature. 

                    “  What’s wrong with hotland?     What’s so bad about it? “                     They didn’t quite understand the issue, but they wanted to. 

Just thinking about the area brought her to near tears; she could barely stand getting near a fire or stove-top to cook something for herself when drifting from home to home up on the Surface--there’s absolutely NO way she was getting that close to lava or fire or anything hotter than a stove-top gets. No way! She refuses. 

                ❝ I just... I don’t want to go anywhere near                 anything... hot. I want to stay far far away                 from Hotland and its heat. I’d rather go                 back to Snowdin and hang out with Papyrus. ❞

She’s speaking as if referring to two lesser evils, instead of an area of land and a skeletal monster residing underground.

[tutumorrow-blog]

mutemade:

The clock stopped ticking forever ago. How long have I been up? I don’t know.       I can’t get a grip, but I can’t let go. There wasn’t anything to hold on to      though… Why can’t I see?  Why can’t I see all the colors that you see?                  Please, can I be– please, can I be colorful and free?

                                         Don’t you know                       you’re not SUPPOSED TO BE HERE?

[tutumorrow-blog]

🎶 flqu.

█ ██ ██ █  A sanguine crescent formed upon petaled lips,            incarnadine hues glistening with unbidden            mirth - and dancing thrill.

     「 You cannot hide forever, child. 」

██████  REQUESTED:: @tutumorrow █ █ █ █

Sapphires dance to and fro as footsteps became lighter and lighter, threatening every step to carry her away but cursing her to come into contact with the ground as she sought more & more distance between she and ... whoever this is. She had no care for names; pleasantries were lost on her the most the most subtle of grins cued her on the notion that he may have ill intentions. It was then that she attempted to excuse herself, only to hear that blinding sound of soft laughter that comes from a being who knows--and expected--to get such a response.

She’s also no so short-sighted as to respond to the taunting words, the words spoken so calmly she would have given up right then and there had she been any other child, any other person in the world. So, instead, she focuses on her footfalls against the pavement, trying to match them to her ballet practice movements so she could calm her racing heart that roared like thunder inside her, cacophonous and blinding all the time.