moanaialiki:

syx-blue:

Dropping the books to a table, Belle leaned on them heavily, “Really? Huh… who was then?”

Anything to serve as a distraction from her mind-numbing math homework. Idly she sorted her course books into piles. With a wrinkle to her nose, she pushed the calculus book off the table, then dropped the writing guide on top of it.

“I haven’t really taken much history. I sorta wanted’a but, fuck, I have a gazillion classes as it is and I don’t even know why they are making me take half of this shit,” she played with her necklace, not ever quite meeting the other girl’s eyes, “That already sound so much more fun than what I’m taking.”

“My ANCESTORS.” Moana answered simply with a small grin. “Our ancestors of the Pacific Islands were navigating and sailing across the seas way before the vikings. We used techniques with the simplest of technologies. The things my ancestors could do was amazing.”

There’s the obvious excitement in her voice, eyes LIGHTING UP at the pride and joy she felt for the RICH history that she shared with so many from the Pacific Islands. Though she would have to tone it down just a bit for the sake of Bell.

“And CALCULUS doesn’t sound that bad. But I never had much problem with MATH before.” She admitted with a small shrug. “As for the HISTORY bit, it really does DEPEND on WHEN and WHERE you’re learning from. History itself is interesting and EXCITING, but there’s a lot of frustrating and not so pleasant moments that’ve happened.”

“It’s not hard,” Belle shook her head, “It’s boooooooring,” she dragged out the word and tipped her chain back, “I already know this but they refused to let me test out of it. I only failed the classes in highschool because the teachers are assholes and the homework is stupid,” she scowled and pouted. It was just painfully tedious and pointless. She at least wanted a challenge, not busy work. The teachers never took well to her correcting them either.

“But that! That sounds really cool,” she bounced, eyes lighting up, “I’ve never even been on the ocean in a boat but Dad took me to visit the tide pools before. The ocean is so different from the lake. But I’ve been out on that a lot!” her grin split her face, happy to have a interesting thing to talk about, “What kind of stuff did they use? Like you can’t row in deep water and get anywhere… So sailing? Yeah? I’ve always wanted to go on one of those huge sail boats,” she rambled before biting her bright sparkling painted lip when she’d likely been talking too much.

Wolf m!a

@glittergcld :

Anna had fallen asleep at something of a normal human hour, sprawled out in the bed with Syx’s pillow pressed close to her side as she was generally found when he didn’t join her. Though when Anna woke, the sun hadn’t even begun to hint in the sky, the world still dark. Despite her shorter time sleeping, she was entirely rested, blue eyes quite literally glowing slightly in the dim lighting. Without needing to turn any lights on, Anna made her way out of their room and into the lair proper.

Looking around, Anna began to meander about, trying to find her mate when a strange scent came to her, her awareness perking up immediately in a defensive manner as she began to follow wherever it may lead

Syx had been working on a project late into the night, first upgrading and repairing some of the combat brain bots then building a new fighting suit. Just in case he did end up in an all out war with the other Psycho Delic.

He could recall feeling overheated as he started to fade, rubbing his tired eyes and slowly stripping as he worked. A trail of his clothing led from where he’d been building to the leather sofa crammed against the wall. It was a common nap location for the blue villain and as such it always had a blanket and pillow on it. AC/DC still played on the overhead speakers and one of his favorite brain bots, the elderly 55, was cuddled down onto of the the large lump of blankets. A soft breathing noise rumbling from under him.

Anna was honestly a bit surprised by the trail of clothing that she came across, frowning softly as she bent down to pick it up. How many times had Syx ‘reminded’ her that clothing should be worn in the lair at all times? Too many for her to count, quite honestly. It wasn’t until she picked up the second article of clothing that she noticed something was off, the scent of it different…

Coming to the couch, Anna gazed down at the lump beneath the blankets that was hidden to her, her senses alive.. but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out just /why/. Something called to her like never before, tingling at her senses. Her time that she had been with Syx over the summer, she had begun to grow rather tan.. except her tan? It wasn’t going away. It kept her skin as a beautiful copper color, that color the first thing she saw as she reached down to pull the covers away

The lump stirred, first a dark black paw stuck out from under the blanket. 55 shifted and let out a “Bowg” at being disturbed. The black paw was followed by the head of a sleepy wolf, yawning wide as it stretched out and arched it’s back. He blinked sleepily up at Anna, recognizing his mate with ease despite the sleepy disorientation. With a puff of a sigh, he settled his head down on his paws, oddly green eyes nearly closed with lethargic ease.

Anna inhaled quickly as soon as she saw the paw immerge, quickly taking a large jumping step back as her eyes flared in brilliance, the glow increasing as she prepared to fight whoever had invaded her territory…

It wasn’t until she saw the wolf’s head emerge, pausing as her mouth gaped open. Genuine shock rolled through her as she slowly moved forward, the feeling of familiarity only increasing. The scent of her mate mingled together with something that smelled awfully… familiar. “..Syx?” She murmured, voice a bit gruff

Slowly waking up, Syx tipped his head at his mate. Why was she acting so odd? She should be snuggling with him. That seemed far more right.

Making a woof noise and leaning in to nuzzle her, he straightened up and the blanket fell further off his form revealing a body shape somewhere between his old one and the wolf like for Anna had taken before. Reaching out, he wrapped his pawed arms around her loosely and pulled her close.

Everything Syx did, she instinctively knew them to all be actions of a mate, knew them to be actions of a beast who dearly loved her.. and even before his body was shown and his eyes were opened she knew without a doubt that this wolf before her was Syx. Taking a step close to him, she shifted and curled up with him, feeling tears build in her eyes oddly enough…

It was when she nestled her nose in against his fur that the sense of home slammed into her, making her take in a deep breath as if she had surfaced from spending some time underwater, her arms wrapping around her. She closed her eyes tightly, holding him tighter yet as she made a low noise in the back of her throat that was something akin to a wolf whine in a human throat. The desire to shift and change tingled at her skin… but she restrained

Anna’s reaction had Syx waking up more fully, trying to murmur comforting things to his mate. Now that he focused, things were definitely off… But he was struggling to place how. As he moved to kiss her neck, his long wet tongue licked up the side of her neck. Well… that wasn’t what he’d intended to do but it felt right. Continuing his sleepy sounds of comfort he shifted and washed her face with wide flat strokes of his tongue.

Pulling back enough to look at her in concern, he brought an arm up to cradle her head… and finally noticed his fur covered limb. With a shout of alarm, he yipped and craned his long neck to look over his changed body, tail tucking between his legs and ears lowering as he whined low in his throat. What was going on?

Anna shifted in his arms, tilting her head in a manner that exposed her neck just a bit more and would allow him to wash her face easier, all acts of instinct that drove her forward without her thinking of it. The sound of fright he made quickly shook her from herself, opening eyes that glowed a touch more than usual before they settled into their usual state.

“Hey.. hey it’s alright,” she urged, smiling softly, looking over his form, “I don’t know what’s going on.. but it’s alright.”

Syx looked up at her with big pleading green eyes and pulled closer for comfort. He ran his claw tipped fingers over his fur, trying to part it, somehow still hoping to find blue skin under it all. A low noise of distress still continued, but at least he wasn’t alone.

All the symbols!

syx-blue:

{{ O_o … ok }}

❤: How long have you been RPing?

9 years table top, 4 years of LARP, 2 years written format (if you count mine and sis’s millions of oc dragons and super heroes and spies, then since I was 5 years old)

❥: How long have you been RPing this character?

Nearly 2 years

유: Who was your first muse?

That would be Syx, but I actually started roleplaying Shelly (sassy-blue-dork) on tumblr first 

♋: What drew you to this muse?

I fell in love with Megamind and it grew to ridiculous proportions after I read through all the fan fics and my own version started growing. Syx was birthed from a fan fic that I started and really need to finish. I love him dearly and my gf and friends convinced me to rp with him ❤

☮: Is there anything you don’t like about playing this muse?

:[ ummmm not really. I love him dearly. I guess only that I feel his pain like a real thing and I felt gutted when I did breakup rp with him when he and Wayne split. For good reasons, but god, all the tears.

✌: What is the easiest aspect of playing this muse?

He’s a spastic self-conscious nerd, lol. Also, his sexuality because I just straight up gave him mine.

☏: What is the most challenging aspect of playing this muse?

He’s someone who’s faced so much discrimination and abuse and trauma in his life. I try and make that intrigue and well written and that does take effort and research. I dislike when something comes off as a trivial obstacle when it should be a thing for character growth and building. For Syx this has been lots of research into the prison system, how people live on the streets and worse poverty than I’ve been through. Into how blatant discrimination affects people. I still feel there are likely a million ways I’m lacking in this and can improve, but then that’s the whole point in slipping into a muse who isn’t me. To learn and expand my understanding of the world and others and myself as well as to have fun.

☢: How many active muses do you have?

Oh god… well I’m just coming off hiatus and Syx and Bell (both on this blog) are currently the only ones I have up and running. All in total I have 14 muses? plus some minor side muses? If I get them all back up and running again.

☠: Who is a muse you would want to play?

The ones I really want to play is my brand new blog @mischievouscourtfae I want to play with my fearies so much, but I want to get myself back and settled into rping what I have before I take on new stuff. I might put a couple muses into more permanent hiatus to start that one up.

☤: What do you have in common with your muse?

nerd, anxious, moves a lot, loves sugar, loves my friends passionately, can only handle small groups of friends, (in the human au autism), feels that humans are confusing, love of music

☑: What are the biggest differences between you and your muse?

He’s such a dom and I’m just not. He’s also a freaking villain and criminal. He is spiteful and vicious when angry. He will spend ages plotting revenge. I am soft and squishy and far more prone to just crying than. Syx would punch something and go off angry ranting and then build a big robot to smash something. He also is ridiculously active in his passions. He wants and does try and change things even if he most often fails. I just can’t. Emotionally or mentally.

♚: Do you and your muse get along?

>_> uuuuhhhhh if he knew the things I invented for his backstory or that I basically torture him to work through my own shit and amusement… then no.

▲: Of the two of you, who is more mature, you or your muse?

Equal? I feel like we both handle some stuff maturely and other stuff horribly. Though not necessarily the same stuff well or poorly. (that maybe doesn’t make sense)

♪: Are you comfortable playing your muse?

Yes, very. He is like a second skin.

✈: Is it easier to write angst, fluff, or crack with your muse?

Yes. *3* give it all to me. I write the least crack, but it can be fun. I like fluff but only as a part of a balanced meal. I also can’t survive on angst. I would die. XD But I love writing all of it.

⌚: Is it easier for you to write as canon characters or OCs?

OCs. For me to write canon I have to know them inside and out. It’s far easier to get fully into an OCs head than a canon muse. Syx(Megamind) and LazyTown(Robbie, Sportacus, and the kids) are the only truly canon muses I play. The Doom Syndicate are technically canon but they got little more than a look from the art book and come suggestions of character directions. So Jimmy(Psycho Delic) and Charlene(Hot Flash) feel like OCs to me.

6k Followers Giveaway!

demoniclour:

Back at it with this again, I recently reached 6k followers on this blog and so I’ll be hosting a little request giveaway!

To enter:
• Follow (or be following) @demoniclour
• Reblog and like this post as many times as you can

I’ll be randomly selecting someone from the notes of this post, they will then be able to immediately receive an aesthetic/moodboard and typography post of their choice. Along with a shout-out and a three card tarot reading on any question!

Winner will be selected April 2nd.

Thief

|| @mostpeculiarmademoiselleetmsieur || Beau ||

Anthony (Tony) Woodridge was in over his head. He knew he was, but he’d stubbornly continued anyway. What choice was there now? He’d already stolen the car. It wasn’t like he could just return it now.

He’d been moving a lot recently, dodging telling Emma the truth of what was going on. She was his best friend… only friend really… but she was getting her life together. College and an actual decent boyfriend this time. She didn’t need him being a black hole. He failed at everything he touched… everything but being a ‘bad boy’ a punk and criminal. So fuck it. He couldn’t get a proper job anyway. Emma had tried so hard to get him to see the future as bright, but it just wasn’t. It couldn’t be.

So now here he was. With a car he’d stolen. He’d been proud of the theft, he didn’t know why Uncle Frankie and Fast-Fingers made it sound so hard. He’d disguised himself as a bellhop and just driven off with the gorgeous machine. It had been a dream working on it, switching out anything distinguishable, a new paint job and VIN numbers. He’d tweaked up the engine while he was at it, he adored tinkering with the inner workings. It was like new.

This last bit, though, this was the part he was nervous about. Getting the cash from the buyer. Tony rubbed his hands on his slacks nervously, he was far more comfortable in a worker’s overalls or in his studded leather jacket than the awkwardly sized gray suit he now wore. The material chaffed and the tie strangled him. He yanked on it again and fidgetted with his phone. Double checking the email for the millionth time, yes this was the place, the time rapidly approaching. The car was behind him in its shiny glory, he’d driven it to the meeting but had planned ahead and tucked a bike to leave on nearby. 

Just make the trade, get the cash, get home, win. It was simple! If he could just get his heart to stop racing. God, where was the guy already? He just needed to see that money, to know that this shit hell he’d been living in was about to end. Tony’s foot tapped out a crescendo on the pavement as he checked the email one last time.