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ph_logs2024-04-07 09:25 pm
blindwatchersees) wrote in ph_logs2024-04-07 09:25 pm
April Showers Bring Strange Flowers [OTA and one closed]
Who: "Theodor Gorlash," the butterflies, and you!
What: Getting to know the island and its inhabitants, finding oneself in the more literal sense
When: April general
Where: Downtown general/Paradesium
Warnings: To be listed in individual threads, likely to contain heavy discussions of various mental health topics
Strange Signals For a Small Desert Town [Closed, for Cecil]
In the middle of the night, that strange voice makes its way into Cecil's head yet again. That's quite rude of it, considering that at this time, more people are trying to sleep than not. There's an appropriate hour and an inappropriate hour for psychic communications!
Find... her. Find... her. The scion-to-be carries the spores. Find... me. Find... me. The worm waits alone. Dark. Strange.
A Fiddle of Sinews, a Flute of Bone [OTA, Empty Pockets]
He hasn't an instrument of his own, but Theodor wonders if perhaps he might find one on loan in the lovely little place where music wafts out like the alluring smell of freshly-baked bread. In the manner of a hungry stray cat, he makes his way though the door and settles in a corner (not in a chair, just a corner, sitting in a manner that is oddly feline and rather ill-befitting the frame of an old man). He scans the place with yellow, lamplike eyes, taking everything in.
A List of Things, Strings, Wings [OTA, Northwest Hollow]
After managing to scrounge up a bit of paper and charcoal, Theodor has settled in the quieter parts of Northwest Hollow, and is attempting to sketch the flowers and butterflies of the area. He's quite good at capturing their likenesses, however, the edges of his drawings seem to have a tendency to melt into faces, bearing exaggerated expressions of laughter, terror, and sorrow. It's probably intentional.
If anyone walks by, he's going to look up and acknowledge them, while his hand will keep scratching out designs independently. One of the aforementioned butterflies will keep its eyes on the page, as it perches on his shoulder.
Wildcard: PM me on Discord (redheadednimbus) if you have other ideas!
What: Getting to know the island and its inhabitants, finding oneself in the more literal sense
When: April general
Where: Downtown general/Paradesium
Warnings: To be listed in individual threads, likely to contain heavy discussions of various mental health topics
Strange Signals For a Small Desert Town [Closed, for Cecil]
In the middle of the night, that strange voice makes its way into Cecil's head yet again. That's quite rude of it, considering that at this time, more people are trying to sleep than not. There's an appropriate hour and an inappropriate hour for psychic communications!
Find... her. Find... her. The scion-to-be carries the spores. Find... me. Find... me. The worm waits alone. Dark. Strange.
A Fiddle of Sinews, a Flute of Bone [OTA, Empty Pockets]
He hasn't an instrument of his own, but Theodor wonders if perhaps he might find one on loan in the lovely little place where music wafts out like the alluring smell of freshly-baked bread. In the manner of a hungry stray cat, he makes his way though the door and settles in a corner (not in a chair, just a corner, sitting in a manner that is oddly feline and rather ill-befitting the frame of an old man). He scans the place with yellow, lamplike eyes, taking everything in.
A List of Things, Strings, Wings [OTA, Northwest Hollow]
After managing to scrounge up a bit of paper and charcoal, Theodor has settled in the quieter parts of Northwest Hollow, and is attempting to sketch the flowers and butterflies of the area. He's quite good at capturing their likenesses, however, the edges of his drawings seem to have a tendency to melt into faces, bearing exaggerated expressions of laughter, terror, and sorrow. It's probably intentional.
If anyone walks by, he's going to look up and acknowledge them, while his hand will keep scratching out designs independently. One of the aforementioned butterflies will keep its eyes on the page, as it perches on his shoulder.
Hum Dum Dee Dum, Hum Dum Dee Dum, Time For Something Sweet [OTA, Oak and Iron]
Speaking of the smell of baking bread, he's gotten quite hungry, and it suddenly occurs to him that he can't remember the last time he had a nice cup of tea or a strawberry tart. He makes his way to the Oak and Iron, and sits down at the first open spot that's just a little too close to someone else's seat to make ignoring conversation entirely feasible.
Wildcard: PM me on Discord (redheadednimbus) if you have other ideas!
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The tangle bristles in concern.
"Was a book... asked to be? The Grey made books. A place for each of them. One place, certainty. Abomination. Itchy."
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It relaxes again, making a sort of fibrous purr.
"Your goth is !!!free!!! now?"
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There's a shameless grin that Cecil wears as he says that. Incredibly, completely and totally gay as can be.
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The Worm purrs all the more in approval.
"Good! Good boyfriend. Good goth."
It seems to really like saying the word "goth," possibly because the word always seems to come out in massive, chunky, bold letters.