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[[SO MONTHS LATER I have finally finished this, using colour palette memes.]]

Sunday Evenings

x-purgatorydancer:

Sundays should be quiet. Back home, they would be. There would be a nice Sunday dinner, a game of Quidditch in the garden. The atmosphere would be relaxed, calm, enjoying a reprieve from work.

But that was before the war.

Now, students were alternatively sober, solemn, determined to not cause trouble, or determined to cause trouble. Some were practically ferocious in their attempts to be…ordinary, cheerful.

Pitiful.

The Gryffindor scoffed at the thought as he lounged near the prefects’ bathroom, waiting for the prefect who summoned him. Honestly, things were shit in the teen’s opinion. He severely disliked the Death Eaters who were now ‘professors’. The Carrows. A pox on them. He still bore bruises from being an example in one of their classes. More bruises to go with the ones still fading from a few days ago on his collarbone and shoulders.

He swallowed and drew his knees to his chest as memories of how those particular marks had made their presence known on dusky skin.

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Our muses are supposed to be married in an arranged marriage in two weeks. Send me “I’m your future husband/wife.” For my muses reaction to their first meeting and getting the news.

(Source: look-a-meme)

Out Of Clothes

Hey so I’m not really a happy camper right now. I have a consult appointment on Tuesday, and I’m SUPPOSED to have my wisdom teeth removed on Friday. But if I really do have an ear infection (which it feels like, with a sore ear and a fever), that might have to be pushed back, and therefore I might be miserable during the first week of school next month. I have replies tabbed right now, but I’m not really in a cheerful, sultry, or mellow mood, which I would need for Ze’ev or Joss, or the current regeneration for Zuriel.

Posted 1 day ago | Reblog
Tags #OOC #out of clothes 
thetruththatshouldbe sent: [text] Sometimss I just feel like Im screaming at the dark [text] All my life [text] Tell me what the point is

thetruththatshouldbe:

x-purgatorydancer:

[TXT—Cam] The point is that some day, someone will hear you.
[TXT—Cam] Do you want to come over?

"Oh." Cam took a moment to let it all sink in, got his phone out of his pocket to scroll back to that first picture. He looked between that and his friend a few times. "An’- an’ ye’re okay? I mean, ye’re not gonna go War of th’ Worlds on me an’ die ‘cause of flu or summat..?"

Also, wait a minute- “Sound human? Ye sound diff’rent? Like what?” Well, it had at least distracted Campbell from his own personal grief for now - three was definitely something to be said for that.

Though the dancer didn’t know what Campbell was referring to, ‘War of the Worlds’ sounded pretty straight-forward: alien invasion. “I rather like humans, so I think not. You are the most diverse race, in terms of personality, genetics, and appearance. As for ailments, I am immune to some of your diseases. I am not more susceptible to any of them than you might be.” Ze’ev tipped his head thoughtfully, and decided against mentioning the one ailment that was specific to his own species. Noncommunicable, and not something humans would have to worry about.

"Ah, as for sound. My vocal apparatus is structured slightly differently from yours, as is my auditory system. My people can make a wider range of sound from humans, and our…reactionary noises are different," he explained. "Our voices have a different tone from humans’. Not quite dual-tone, but…hmm. I have heard my voice described as ‘raspy’. I am not sure that is an accurate descriptor."

thetruththatshouldbe sent: [text] Sometimss I just feel like Im screaming at the dark [text] All my life [text] Tell me what the point is

thetruththatshouldbe:

x-purgatorydancer:

[TXT—Cam] The point is that some day, someone will hear you.
[TXT—Cam] Do you want to come over?

He was a little confused at first, because this wasn’t the sort of story he’d expected, but it was soothing to just listen to his friend’s voice. Cam cradled his own tea in both hands, quietly enjoying the scent. He was still crying, but it was just tears now and the occasional hitch as he breathed, Campbell was definitely calmer.

At the question, he nodded slowly. “I- I dun understand th’story, tho’?” It was a lot to take in and Campbell had expected a story, something fictional, but this seemed not very made-up at all.

"This is a story about me." Ze’ev sipped at his tea again and shrugged one shoulder. "I received permission to tell it to you. Humanity will not meet alien life—officially, at least—for years still. Decades. It is not ready yet." He smiled wryly at Cam and arched a brow with another shrug. Not the best timing for letting his friend know about him being an alien, but…hey. It was a story. "That photo I sent you was supposed to go to a member of Torchwood, someone who already knew what I am. It was not a costume. This…this is my costume. I swear a device that lets me look and sound human."