reparablewings

[reparablewings]

I straight up woke up, logged on, and said what the heck is this url--

I should not do things when half asleep.

cygnusydtfydydg-whatever > reparablewings

I’m not totally sold on it, but it’ll do for now. I mean it’ll take another 68689698 years to find a decent theme.

[reparablewings]

[reparablewings]

[reparablewings]

ϟ Monsters-themed Asks!

Vampire: Someone offers you a chance at immortality. Do you take it, and why or why not?

Werewolf: If you had to spend your life with just one person, who would it be?

Witch: If you could change one thing about the world, what would it be?

Ghost: Do you have any regrets?

Frankenstein: Is someone telling you how to live your life, or are you an independent person?

Mummy: If you were to fall into an eternal sleep, do you think anyone would miss you?

Zombie: Do you miss anyone right now?

Faerie: If you could get away with anything, what would you do?

Nymph: What are you like when you’re by yourself?

Mermaid: How far would you go to keep the one you love?

Shapeshifter: What would you change about yourself?

Banshee: If you knew one of your loved ones/best friends had only one day left to live, how would you spend that last day with them?

Siren: If you could make anyone do anything, what would you make them do?

Genie: If you had one wish that would come true and couldn’t be reversed, what would you ask for?

Fury: What is a word/phrase that you dread to hear?

Incubus: What would someone have to do to get in your pants?

Succubus: What’s one thing you can’t live without?

[reparablewings]

Words become toxic once you’ve lost the opportunity to say them.

リンダ,  ゴールデンタイム (via hourae)

[reparablewings]

*blinks at the stranger then bows her head, a ghost of a smile tugged at the young woman's lips* Hello there, it's a please to meet you.

cygnusxinterxanates (+)

(-She gazed the stranger and examinated the features she had before bowing slowly her head as a greeting-) Hello

[reparablewings]

Setsuko couldn't lie that the situation was awkward. It wasn't the first time fan's had approached her, but every time seemed to throw her through a loop. Was it denial of the talent she held? Or was it just general surprise? She could never quite place it. And though she was normally one for cutting conversations short, she made no move to turn away. The decision was rash. But certainly not as rash as if she had been an idol. That was the advantage and part of the reason she had chosen her occupation. Fans had to rely on vocal recognition to find her and while she had a Japanese accent, it wasn't an easy task to identify her. It would take a true diehard fan, she had always supposed. She never gave the idea much thought, until the situation arose. At the same time, every situation and every person was different. Some shier than the others, some more open about their confessions. So here she was trying to decide how to access this situation.

Laying the script in the cart, she smiled just a bit more, “Kyungsoo-ah, I see. Please, ma'am is much too formal.” And maybe too close to a home she had been trying to erase. Too close to a life that she had attempted to let go of. Of formalities and dignity, or lack of. That was the life she had fled from. She had chosen to carry out the rest of her days as normal as possible. She was part of the working class, but at the end of the day... She was still a person, just like everyone else. Titles made her uneasy. Even as simple as ma'am. Noona was fine, she had decided. It was typical respect in Korea after all. Nothing more though. It was ridiculous most likely, but a preference was still a preference.

It’s only after the woman actually begins to speak to him does the boy realise how truly embarrassing the entire situation is, cheeks flushing pink and fingers tightening around the handles of the grocery basket. Still looking down, Kyungsoo holds his breath while Setsuko continues talking, and he has to ask himself a hundred times if he really is hearing, in person, the voice that’s inspired hope and aspiration in the center of his chest. Though he’s never really applied those sentiments in real life situations outside of his apartment, he does have to admit that the lighthearted feelings persist in the smallest of ways. While watching those shows, the teen always feels as if something better is always out there in the world, as if the world isn’t always full of demons and villains.

Quietly swallowing the lump in his throat, Kyungsoo gives a small nod in reply to the woman’s last statement. He can still hardly believe that his favourite voice actor is standing—really, actually standing—right in front of him, and it’s only after a few more seconds does he finally start breathing again. When she asks for his name, the boy’s cheeks flush again, prompting him to question whether any of this is real. But when he comes to terms with the fact that this is reality, he finally answers in a soft, shy voice, gaze still fixed on his feet. “Kyungsoo.. m-ma’am. My name is Do Kyungso.”

[reparablewings]

She was born with the world at her feet. To a loving mother and a less than perfect father. But then she was a child. The life of her political father, she could never understand. The greed, the gambling, the fortune. To a child, it meant nothing. But love meant everything, at least in regards to her mother. But her fairy tale ending was brutally ripped from her tiny fingers. The imperfect princess fell to the ground, cast out from her castle, abandoned by hope. Her mother left, she passed onto to a higher, better place. And her father, too lost in his greed and power to care, couldn't raise a child. As long as the tattered remains of their family existed, he could display a perfect image to the press. As long as he looked loving to the girl in public, what he thought of her in real life mattered not. But as she grew, she resembled her mother. Far too much for her father to handle. So he tore her self esteem to pieces. He tainted what little self image she possessed, so that the princess could never reclaim her throne.

Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.

But that is not the end of her story. The next chapter of her life was beginning. But the life of a runaway was unpredictable. Her life that had been set in stone was left behind. A father she could never love, a step family she had never live with, a fiancee she had never wanted. These were all things of the past. From Tokyo to Seoul, she closed the door behind her. She was afraid, and she didn't know how she'd survive in Korea, she took the chance.

But it's been three years since she took that chance. And she is not alone, but she is still lost. She may never be the princess she was. But out of the ashes, she will rise. But, maybe even she can let her walls down to ask for help.

Reblog, follow, like.

Hover: ❀ ❀ ❀

[reparablewings]

(...Guess who's back--)

[reparablewings]

An audible sigh escaped her lips. No, it just wasn't right. Then again, what was right? Perhaps she was too hard on herself. After all she was herself and not the voice actress of the Sailor Mars of the 90s. She should voice a Sailor Mars that suits her. Wasn't that what her mentor had told her. To inspire others, you must let a character find you. Find the tone of the character that matches you. Yes, that most certainly unnerved her. Kaioh Setsuko was just never herself. But this role... She had to have it. She mentally connected with this character far too well to pass over this chance. And if she landed it. Ah, that would be a dream. A beautiful, surprising dream-- Pausing at the call of her name, she froze. For a moment, she glared at the rows of cereal before her. Stone cold, she could be. Especially towards men. Though before she could cut the stranger out completely, she had listened to his words. Every series she had been? A big fan? He admired her?

Doe eyed, the woman turned to look at him. She blinked a few times, before a small smile crept its way onto her features. "Busy?" she reiterated, "No, no. Not at all. Don't worry about it. Anyway, yes, I am Kaioh Setsuko. And you are?" Tilting her head marginally, she ventured on a little more, "I'm glad to hear you enjoy my works and I hope you'll continue to watch me grow."

Udon, pork cutlets, celery, baby carrots… There’s also a notable amount of space in the basket taken up by a bag of chocolate and another filled with gummy bears. Standing in front of an aisle of various teas, Kyungsoo stares intently at two brands in particular as he tries to decide which one will be better. In the end, after nearly three full minutes, he places both boxes into the basket but freezes the moment he hears an all too familiar voice. For a moment, the teen is sure he’s finally lost whatever bit of sanity he had left, but when he peeks over the top of the shelf and finds a woman standing there with what looks like a script in her hand, he wastes no time in scrambling around to the next aisle. Shyly, he approaches the stranger and clutches the grocery basket close to himself, suddenly finding it a little harder to breathe while in the presence of a celebrity. With a deep breath, the teen blinks a few times, just to make sure he’s definitely seeing correctly, and it’s difficult to stop speaking as soon as he starts. “Excuse me, a-are you.. are you Kaioh Setsuko? I-I.. I’ve watched every series you’ve been in, and I-I’m a really big fan, and I.. I just t-think you’re amazing and have a wonderful talent, and I really hope you gain a-all the success you deserve because I-I really admire you and it’s.. it’s such an honour t-to see you— Oh, I’m sorry, you must be busy. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. Sorry. Oh, I’m so sorry.”

[reparablewings]

Let’s cut to the chase. I wanna RP. You wanna RP. Let’s do it. Don’t be shy. Send in one or more of the following symbols to my ask:

☮ - For me to post a starter.

☼ - If you’d like our characters to be friends.

✿ - If you want to try a romantic relationship with my character.

❅ - If you’d like our characters to be enemies or rivals.

♥ - If you just want to RP, and see where it goes.

The Starter/Connections Meme!

[reparablewings]

God/Goddess Asks (please do this, guys)

Anubis: How do you feel about death?

Atum: What are your greatest imperfections?

Bastet: Do you have any cats?

Hathor: What brings you joy?

Horus: What is one thing you've had to fight for in your life?

Osiris: Do you believe in the underworld?

Ra: Do you have any major responsibilities or importance?

Thoth: Do you like to read/write?

Arawn: What is the most terrifying thing you've ever done?

Bran: How is your health?

Brighid: Tell us about your relationship with your father.

Cernunnos: What is your favorite animal?

Danu: What is your relationship with your mother?

Morrigan: What do you think happens when we die?

Olwen: What is your favorite flower?

Rhiannon: Have you ever been betrayed?

Bragi: What kind of music do you listen to?

Freya: Have you ever been in love?

Freyr: Do you have any children?

Hœnir: Are you a silent or talkative person?

Iounn: How old are you?

Loki: What is the best trick you've ever pulled on someone?

Odin: What is your family like?

Thor: Would you consider yourself pretty powerful?

Tree: What have you done with your life? What are you going to do with it?

Aphrodite: What do you think of yourself?

Ares: Are you an easy person to anger?

Athena: Would you consider yourself an artist?

Apollo: Do you play any instruments?

Dionysus: Do you drink?

Hades: Do you have a bad reputation?

Hekate: Have you ever tried to communicate with the dead?

Hermes: Have you ever stolen anything?

Poseidon: Are you a moody person?

Zeus: Are you a confident person?

Jupiter: Would people say that you are intimidating or fairly approachable?

Pluto: Where do you think we go when we die?

Apollo & Diana: Do you prefer to be up during the day or at night?

Mars: Have you ever gotten into a fight?

Minerva: Do you generally give good advice?

Proserpine: Have you ever felt trapped?

Plutus: Do you have a job?

Venus: Have you ever had your heart broken?

Vesta: Do you like being home or do you try to get out whenever you can?

Morpheus: Do you daydream often? Of what?

[reparablewings]

[reparablewings]

Anonymously message me (3) things you want to know about me.

[reparablewings]

The weather varies between heavy fog and pale sunshine; My thoughts follow the exact same process.

Virginia Woolf, 21 April 1918    

[reparablewings]

This guy is the product of strangled freedom, suffocated by a tie around his neck. Suit jackets and leather shoes, early morning coffee, red eye flights, and lifeless hotel rooms. Superficial friends, lobbies, papers, nicotine induced clarity, papers, papers, more papers.

Clifford “Cliff” Lloyd

Date of Birth: January 30, 1986

Nickname: Grease 

Hometown: Detroit, Michigan

Residence: Wilmington, Delaware (I gotta cut outta this city one’ve these days.)

Occupation: I’ve gotta gig as a boring-as-shit corporate for an auto company. One’ve the big ones. They shoot me off like a space monkey ‘round the world to buy their goddamn parts.

Interests: Not e’eryone made it big from the crash. Dad made me get a real job. Said I couldn’t be wastin’ my time makin’ crafts. I’m an artist. I don’t make fuckin’ crafts, but hell if he listened. I make art for the hellavit. Nobody gives a damn what it means anyway.

That guy on the subway, waiting for a taxi, boarding the plane, looks the same as everyone else. He’s just another middle class citizen living his life, doing his job, and existing. There are no more bruises on his slim, handsome face that would draw a second questioning look. They’ve all faded away. His face is not stricken with a deep, angry red like a rash or a terrible sunburn. There are no bloodstains on his collar, no bloody knuckles to notice when shaking his hand, no deformations of his body indicating a broken bone. 

There is so little to be seen on the outside. 

Blood boils in his veins. Old scars fade beneath his shirt that has been bleached of all remnants of bloodstains. Bones fit together like modified jigsaw pieces beneath his skin. His spirit aches for something that ended years ago. It can’t let go. That cancer stick between his lips coats his lungs in ash, but he sucks it in like a dying man gasps for air, letting it calm the boiling of his blood. 

Normalcy is a virtue. All the scars are tucked away. Hair neatly combed. Clothes clean and pressed. The paint is washed from his hands. All those little things are hidden away. He’s a clean cut copy of the working man. Sterile and free of individuality. Everything is easier. Everything is forced. He’s so dreadfully normal, and he’s very, very pissed off. 

[ Notes ] ———> ��Δ Δ Δ Δ

He is the modern man. The product of a society that thrives on civilized freedom. The great ol’ red white and blue, the eagle, and the fourth of July. America the free. America that gave their freedom to a bunch of stuffy men in suits, but insists they’re free.

Photo credit: sppock

[reparablewings]

Quando finisce la partita, i pedoni, le torri, i cavalli, i vescovi, i due re e le due regine tutti vanno nello stesso scatolo (When the chess game is over, the pawns, rooks, knights, bishops, kings, and queens all go back into the same box)

Italian Proverb (via amarebony)