(Muses I’m feeling the most at the moment! If you’re a bit overwhelmed by the amount of characters I have, these are just a few to pick from that are the most active <3)
Coming into her magical talent after trauma, nowadays Megan uses her power to help others and take out abusers. Her justice comes with the cold hand of death. Hates cats. Has a giant English Mastiff named Bones. Keeps her distance from most people.
Ick’s father, Anderson is a part of a secret government agency known as the White Book. Professional hunter hunter to most, just a printer salesman to his son. Grumpy. Trying to be a good dad, doesn’t really know how.
A flesh construct, Em is a wandering little undead creation of necromancer Alice Van Andel, their ‘mother’. Em has no harshness in their heart, but they are curious about who they were before they woke up in their mother’s lab a few years ago. Sweet. Gullible. Incredibly loyal. The most adorable eldritch abomination.
A vampire of legend even among other vampires, Cicero’s a prideful creature, incredibly petty and who uses everyone around him. He is obsessed with immortalizing musicians, but has awful luck in keeping his progeny alive. Snobbish. Cruel. Is the prettiest and knows it.
Darius didn’t mind when Ick moved closer, shifting to where it’d be a little easier for the other. That, and for him to lean into.
He laughed softly, eyes half-lidded as he admired Ick’s smile. He was too sweet for his own good. “Of course.” He leaned forward and closed the distance between them, taking the lead a little more this time but still letting Ick take his time. He had asked so Nicely after all.
It was just… so easy to focus on Ick and not think of anything else. Feathers rippled across his arms and claws gently ran through Ick’s hair as they kissed, Darius enjoying this quite a lot, actually.
Ick could not have been more comfortable. Sure he’d made out with dudes before, but some of them were so pushy about it. With Darius… it was just safe. Nothing past his comfort level.
He shivered as he felt those sharper than before nails combed through his hair, the sensation all kinds of tingly. Ick finally broke for some breath and a soft laugh… and then he noticed the feathers.
Huh.
“Oh, uh, didn’t think I was that much of a kisser,” Ick joked, but he didn’t balk away from them. Instead, he brushed the back of his hand against the feathers. “… I like them. Your feathers. They’re pretty.” How could Ick not find them beautiful?
There was no grace in the shadows and dark magic that writhed with her arrival. It lashed out angrily, whipping back and forth in an effort to escape the one that had forcefully harnessed it. However, it merely acted as a door for her to claw her way through, blood and gore dripping down her arms and mouth.
Secondary legs dug into the earth to aid her in pulling her body out of the portal, claws scrabbling for purchase on the concrete. There was a hiss of anger as she pulled the rest of her body through and the shadows snapped shut, folding in on themselves and leaving the bloodied queen in their wake.
She was Out, once again.
Wenira’s senses were still a touch… overwhelmed, claws twitching and head snapping up at the nearest source of movement.
She was back, but where she was she wasn’t sure of just yet.
And, while covered in blood, that could be an issue.
Megan took more than a single cautious step back from the spider woman emerging from the rift. She was hunting for Darius’ missing sister and this was where her path had led her.
To a blood covered woman with spider legs.
“Lord have mercy- take it easy…” Megan held up one hand defensively while the other slipped into her pocket, twirling a few bones around. Her Ghostly Hounds were just a twitch away.
“You’re safe, hon. Are you Wenira?” What other giant spider women are in New Orleans!? “Darius is looking for ya.”
The psychic let out a groan, shrill and sharp through his gritted teeth. It was humiliating to think of, this asshole carrying him like some stupid hero off to the hospital. But..
It was the only way. The only certain way, at least.
He rolled his eyes, still gripping he wound with tears in his tired eyes.
“FIne. Fine, carry me- but you tell Ick and I’ll piss in your coffee creamer, I swear it.”
“Like Ickarus would believe I’ve ever helped you in any way.”
At the very least, Anderson lifted him as carefully as he could. Cizko was in enough pain. There was that initial spike of his training kicking in- attempt to console the injured man, tell him it was going to be fine- but he for once squashed it. Edgar wouldn’t believe it from his lips anyway.
He hurried to his truck, setting Edgar in the passenger seat before he removed his coat. “Keep the pressure on, use this if you need to,” he draped it over the other man before he fastened his buckle- no time to complain about that, Edgar’s hands were busy trying to keep his blood in his body.
Anderson slammed the passenger door and darted to the driver’s side, truck turned on and already pulling away before he even had his door fully shut.
PSA: STOP METAGAMING AND GODMODDING RPS YOU ARENT IN.
Sending anons to people in order to engage with a story is fun. But unless someone reblogs an ask meme requestion you to hurt or berate their muse, you really have no business doing it.
It’s not your plot, or your story. You are ruining the fun for other people when you abuse the anon feature. It is demoralizing for writers to be attacked like this.
BLACK = I would date you.
GREEN = I think you’re cute.
BLUE = You are my tumblr crush.
GREY = I wish you would notice me.
PURPLE = I don’t talk to you but I really love your blog.
TEAL = We have a lot in common.
YELLOW = I don’t know you at all.
ORANGE = I don’t like your blog.
BROWN = I don’t like you.
PINK = I think you are unattractive.
RED = I hate you with a burning passion.
WHITE = You scare me.
RAINBOW = BED PLZ.
SCARLET = You have influenced my decision/thoughts on something.
MAROON = You taught me something new.
CINNAMON = You’re a really cool person and admire you from afar.
PERIWINKLE = You make me laugh
MAUVE = You are really talented
BLUSH = Seeing you on my dash makes my day a little better.
CYAN = We have very little in common
THISTLE = I only just started following you
INDIGO = I’ve been following you for a long time
FUCHSIA = Your blog content is gold
COPPER = Your blog content is trash (and I love it)
VERMILION = You make me feel passionate
HONEYDEW = I want to call you by a nickname
LAVENDER = You inspire me
CORAL = You’re a meme
UMBER = I want to know more about you
FORGET-ME-NOT = You remind me of somebody
RAZZMATAZZ = I would share my favorite food with you
ARSENIC = I don’t know how to describe the way I feel about you
WINE = You make me feel kinda funny, like when we used to climb the rope in gym class
SAFFRON = I love your ideas
TIMBERWOLF = I trust you
FALLOW = I want to run through the Northern wilderness barefoot with you
PLUM = I’d like to chat with you
TANGERINE = I love your aesthetic
SAGE = You make me cry
CRIMSON = We should collaborate on something!
VIRIDIAN = I wanna hang out on your blog
CHARTREUSE = You’re my homie
BURGUNDY = I get excited when I see posts from you
As an opal vampire, he did have a connection to earth magic, and as the king he was capable of some quite interesting transmutations when it came to simple dirt and minerals.
He’d popped his hat off and his coat, sitting on the ground, palms in the dirt. The opal ring glowed faintly as he reached out to the earth, calling out to the specks, the pebbles… there. A finger twitch and the dirt parted for a green stone, brought together by Jules just that moment.
A rough piece of malachite, big enough to take both hands to hold onto. Only for a bit though. Jules held it in his palms, turning it over again and again, tumbling again and again until it was smooth. Now not as big… but still quite pretty.
He set it to the side and began the process again. What gem would he find or make now?