#TheDeafProphet

[bizarrebazaar13]

I have been thinkin. lately. about the possibility of May and The King ever reconciling, at least partialy. and i know we both have it as an eventuality in our various timelines. but im still stuck on the how, if ever. [beyond being potentially spurred on by jealousy akdkfkkgkh] so i have come to seek your thoughts and insight into the matter further.

before we go any further it is imperative you know that I am answering this posed like that onion “businessman does his work laying in bed like schoolgirl” article. ok proceed.

I think for this to work at all, the King has to initiate. we know the Manager has been wanting this for a long time now, and we know the King has rejected the idea. the Manager asking for the millionth time isn’t going to change the King’s mind. it has to come from the King himself.

I also think that at the moment, they both want very different things from that reconciliation. May wants everything forgiven in one grand gesture, something you can see in any interaction with him where the King is brought up. his grand gesture of choice as of FL is turning himself into a city; he wants to do one big thing that finally proves he’s good enough for the King to take him back.

the King, though, is understandably over grand gestures of love like that. it has to be gradual. healing from what he went through won’t be instant or easy, and while that’s probably part of why he’s been avoiding it, he does recognize that. we cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever, and we also cannot expect them to go away overnight!

and getting more speculative, the Manager strikes me as someone who wants their relationship to move beyond the first city. he wants to show the King what he’s built and what he’s become, wants to visit Polythreme, etc. he approaches the tragedy of the fall of the first city more like “so that happened. what do we do now?” whereas the King is more stuck on the fact that it shouldn’t have happened at all. Polythreme architecture is all in the style of the first city, the King wears first city clothes, he’s recreating the past as much as possible. the King wants things to go back to the way they were before he even was sick.

so for a true reconciliation to happen, May needs to realize that one singular event can’t undo all of their pain, and the King needs to accept that things will never go back to how they used to be. and again, the King has to be the one to initiate. there would need to be some sort of catalyst for the King to start thinking about moving on, and for it to really be effective, it would probably have to come from a clay man. they are the people closest to the King in every sense of the word.

maybe the story of the clay highwayman sticks with the King for a while. and maybe one day, a clay man brings it up, and it makes the King furious, but it also makes him think. not enough to regret what he did to the clay highwayman, but enough to wonder if he did the right thing. slowly, he starts loosening his control over the clay men. he’s still their king, but maybe he doesn’t need control what they think and feel, you know?

eventually, when the Manager arrives at the gates of Polythreme, expecting to find them barred, they’re open. no one greets him there. he doesn’t even see the King at all. but he’s no longer cut off completely.

basically: it has to come from the King. I love the idea of the clay highwayman’s story being the thing that starts this process. and it’s going to be very slow. and painful. but I do really think that they could make it work. they knew each other best once, perhaps they still do. the wounds are always going to be there, but maybe we don’t need to let them bleed anymore.

[capn-twitchery]

🎲 breaking the mold.... Jamie and Grace

Also so u don't have to figure out what to do about that damn hat of twitchs XD

4. A kiss to the top of the head -- (kiss asks from here!)

jamie please you have to warn him he wasn't ready!!!!!!

[lord-emerson]

Oc interview question: you've won a shopping spree, where you go?

I would love to acquire a new dining table, perhaps an upgrade to the coffee table as well?* Naturally, I would also invest in some new outfits as well, perhaps one for each day of the week. And a couple decorative knick-knacks to top it all off.

I do love a good trinket.

*ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵐᵃⁿ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵒʷⁿ ᵃ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ʸᵉᵗ

[neathyingenue]

First batch of mini OC portraits are here--3 down, 3 to go! I did these in gouache on tinted paper (though josie's glasses are colored pencil haha)

From left to right:

The Marked Examinant August Shaw belongs to @zeebreezin

The Laconic Captain Samuel Weatherbee belongs to @house-of-mirrors

The Percipient Scientist Josephine Ashwood belongs to @thedeafprophet

I adore each of your blorbos, thank you for letting me at 'em!

[thunder-threnodies]

Present, 7 and 8?

7, Present. Do they have a partner? How did they meet, and what’s their relationship like now?

tThey do! They're married to @esteemed-excellency Hiram Hargrave. These two have the "addicted-too-eachother" relationship. Hiram provides solace to Morgan's heavy soul (being tied to the Depth of the Zee and all that jazz w/ Lady Black and the Gant Pole).

They both claim the other but don't you dare imply they care for eachother (even if it's obvious they do care). Their signature phrase would be "Death will NOT do us apart, idiot"

They met shortly after the Fall. The Admiralty tried to buy Morgan's silence about their Father's Bones (the standard sunless sea ambition) offering them a place amongst the higher ranks. At their debut, Hiram was there, rebuilding his network of connections.

Their very first exchange was:

H: "you're stuck here with all these shitty Admiralty airheads huh? I'm Hiram, Hiram Hargrave."

M:" Francis Morgan. And I'm part of the Admiralty."

H: *rises an eyebrow * "Sucks to be you."

8, Present. What hobby or pastime of theirs do they consider most important to them and why?

They are a pretty good Card player! They also learnt how to sculpt from the Pirate Poet (their First Mate on the Requiem) and dunk these little Clayfellows in water reflecting various Neathbow colours.

From time to time, if they Zail close to Polythreme these Clayfellows will get alive. In which case they get "employed" on the Requiem (Morgan's ship) and do minor chores/be a mascot/be cute in general.

Cards is important because their beloved Eleonor used to be a Player of Chess (regular and Neath edition, she was entangled in the Great Game at some point) and playing something tactical helps morgan keep in touch with the her. Some sort of memento. The Clayfellows are just a nice way to do something with their hands that's not hunting Nightmares, kill zee beasts or swordfighting.

[the-dye-stained-socialite]

WHAT is the ideal way to hug a giant fluffy monster.

instructions for the ideal way to hug a giant bat:

1)find the ideal bat! qualities to look for: fat, soft, fluffy!!! acquire said bat. top candidates are: Hearts (soft fat and fluffy!! pleasant!!! con: needs a bath), Veils (IDEAL TEXTURE, so silky!! cons: it's veils), Fires (fat and fluffy, so warm! cons: union buster supreme)

2) accept you are never going to fully wrap your arms around it.you may try anyways.

3) remove cloak from bat, and anything from your head, especially glasses and/or mask

4) aim your face for tummy, chest, or neck ruff!!! hug and squash and *bury* your face into soft fat and fur, go wrist deep in that soft spft fur!!! rub your cheeks on the fur it's a good texture, and have the bat wrap it's wings around you!!! if yoy are lucky it may let your pet it and you may hear it makes cute little happy noises!!

extra steps for added comfort: have the bat lay down and use it as a full size bed, it's very comfy and safe and makes it ideal to nuzzle into it!!!

[blue-bismuth]

berry i just gotta say i love seeing you liking my posts about the captivating princess despite presumebly not knowing who she is ajkfgkghj

well i know that she's a princess and that she's probably done war crimes. gotta support immoral blorbos in law

[the-masterless-press]

7.What's one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

Oh man.

Betty's had a long, long way since I came up with her last year.

Initially I got pulled in because a pal suggested I play Mask of the Rose when it was still in a demo. I did, curious about it, and I was pulled into the world. Initially, Betty used to be two different characters!

My first MOTR PC was a semi self-insert that kinda morphed into a character of her own. A studious young woman who came to London to study the arcane arts with a penchant for art.

This is the earliest art I found of her:

(it was supposed to be me)

My FL character before that point was a blank slate. I made the profile the year before and forgot about it until I began playing Mask.

She began her life first as MsPaint Pixel art...

And then as this portrait:

This FLPC was Old Cougar, a (you guessed it) older woman with an appetite for two things: women who were younger than her, and violence.

Her and my MoTR character were separate entities until I decided that it would be interesting to make them the same person. It took a lot of advice and thinking until I settled on the current backstory for Betty:

An Irrigo bath to erase her memory of a painful break up and pining that resulted from it.

[violant-apologia]

Buttercup - Does your OC have any odd quirks/habits? for the Apologist

Of course an endgame FL PC is likely to pick up all sorts of obscure quirks, but something more ordinary is his tendency to write before speaking. If he's going to any event where he'll be expected to make a speech or speak with particular eloquence, he always drafts the sort of things he's planning to say beforehand.

He doesn't even really read them during the event or anything; the act of writing them down in advance is what prepares him. This does mean that he often struggles with impromptu public speaking, though.

ask game here!

[half-life-citizen]

Happy early birthday, @thedeafprophet, hope you enjoy! (hopefully not too ooc either)

For the @fallenlondonficswap 2023

Hephaesta was strongwoman, worked at Mahogany Hall for, well a while now, not exactly sure how long; but she had come to like the work, like who she worked with specifically, the crowds she didn't really care much about; It's not that she didn't like the people, rather the opposite, but it tends to make you feel separated. Like an other.

She became friends with the two sisters, not fast friends, Hephaesta first found them annoying, like a bat that would try to perch on your head for hours on end, but she warmed up to them.

It did take her a while to distinguish which one was which, but as she got to know them, the differences were obviously there.

It was good, for a while, shows kept filling seats, Hephaesta age well; but the same could not be said for the sisters.

Clara went missing, her sister had come to visit her, heard someone talking to her, and like that, the other sister went looking for her, all Hephaesta managed to to put together afterwards was something about the forgotten quarter, and a master.

It had been months since she'd seen either of them; she'd began to have lost hope, nothing from either from them.

Hephaesta had just finished a show, someone had brought in a barrel for her to lift, nothing major. But when she was walking backstage she saw him, a stout man desperately trying to seem like he belonged where he shouldn't, but he looked harmless enough, so she gave him a hard stare and moved on.

The next time Hephaesta saw the man, she was offering him an autograph, he introduced himself in a short and unfriendly way, but obviously still wanting a conversation, she originally thought it was an autograph, but what he really wanted to speak about was the fading music hall singer, he had claimed to be a friend from the surface, Hephaesta agreed to tell him her last known whereabouts, but only in veilgarden, at the singing mandrake.

The conversation went smoothly, the man, Alex was his name; reminded Hephaesta of herself, headstrong, but obviously caring, he oozed worry when he talked about what he had seen, and Hephaesta divulged all she knew to the man.

She went back to work at the hall, but only a short while after she had heard news, one of the sisters had been found, nearly beaten to death in the forgotten quarter.

Hephaesta had rushed to the site, finding a clammy, but still warm body, a locket missing from around her neck, and severe injuries from blunt objects, presumedly hammers, her legs were completely done in.

She had carried her back to her apartment, and waited for her to return from unconsciousness.

She was by her bedside, reading a penny dreadful when the colour began to return to the singers face, eyes fluttering open, then locking on Hephaestas face, the singer apologised, and began to weep.

She had figured out what happened, the man she had met previously, Alex, had helped the singer, eased her as she faded, she believed she would die, to never return to the surface like she had planned, she was so deathly afraid of being trapped.

Alex arrived in a rush, concern uncharacteristically present on his usually gruff face as he listened to the tearful apologies from the wounded singer, she explained how she found her sister in a state, maddenend and pregnant with some monster, her voice raw from the constant singing it had subjected her to. 

when she was talking, the sorrow had turned to anger when she spoke of this; of how her sister was gifted with glim jewellery and plied by honeyed words ,and for her trust? 

She had been subjected to a horrible, and completely undeserving fate.

At the end of the story, the lonesome twin had finished crying, a hateful look on her face as she mentioned men who were after her, who put her into this state.

"Clay men, two of them", she spat, "they pulled me from behind a wall and they just didn't stop until I stopped screaming." 

She mentioned her dream to Alex, to return to the surface, to be free of this place, it had cost her her sister, nearly her life, she would never be able to walk right again, the damage too severe on her right leg; death would have fixed it, if she had died that day, mended her bones as it returned her to life, but that never happened. She lived and she was glad.

But the singer was scared, not just for her sister, for Hephaesta, but for herself, her own future, she'd need money, for transport, for lodgings, for real medical treatments on the surface, not in some pit in the ground that had caused her so much pain, she just needed to get away.

Alex, unsurprisingly to Hephaesta, obliged her, he had known someone who smuggled him down, with two others, they could be trusted, he assured, they knew what they were doing. 

The singer beckoned him close, and whispered a name into his ear, poor Edward.

It wasn't the last time he visited, far from it; the singer was still recovering, bruises beginning to fade as Hephaesta sat by her sickbed, reminiscing on the times at Mahogany Hall, talking, and sometimes; they'd try walking from one end of the room and back.

Alex was a lot more comfortable with the singer than Hephaesta, he originally approached her like a stray cat, testing the waters as he tried to avoid her, but as the visits continued, he warmed up aswell.

The singer was asleep in her bed, a bottle of cheap gin nestled in her grip as Hephaesta and Alex talked, of growing up in rough conditions, Alex talked about his family, his sister, Jamie and josephine; the struggles he had to face as he grew into who he was today.

Hephaesta opened up too, she explained how her father was a cheater, a murderer, who finally had enough of her after she, too young to know the meaning, protected her mother during a stupor of his.

Her father had enough, and abandoned her the first chance he could get.

She grew up on the streets, just like Alex, she spent most of her time before entering the neath running simple jobs, going from city to city, eventually settling in the neath, after she had filled out her form, a strongwoman!

As they talked deep into the false night, a bond was formed, stronger than steel.

He came by less frequently, as the singers condition improved, she could walk distances, but not without a cane, most doctors said the damage was permanent, but she was alive.

One day, Clara and her sister were gone.

Taken, by a man in a blood red maks forced in a frown.

Hephaesta was livid, angry with herself, for not being able to help those who mattered to her, to let them both get hurt again.

Alex came at first notice, believed Hephaesta immediately, he knew poor Edward, the man in the mask, and he knew where the sisters were, a building called the orphanage, filled with confused patients and orderlies who would do the bidding of whoever owned the horrific place.

He told her of a plan to get inside, a route planned by a woman who's husband had been trapped inside, just to be safe, Alex told her of the way, just in case.

Alex didn't return that night, or the next.

Or the one after that, at first, Hephaesta wasn't worried, he was a capable and resourceful man, cunning as a fox.

But the thought nagged at her, what if she failed him like she failed the twins?

What ifs, crowded her thoughts, worries weighed her down more than any weight could.

Alex had heard them too late, heavy footsteps unheard until they rushed him, heavy arms wrestled him to the ground, a forearm around his neck as he saw poor Edwards face looming over him, blue eyes looking directly into his soul.

Alex awoke, pine boards lined with velvet surrounded him.

He began to hammer at the ceiling, arms barely even being able to move above his stomach.

He starts kicking his feet, his boots barely moving as they uselessly tap against the velvet covering.

He squirms violently, thrashing around, nails scrabbling, tearing away some velvet from the coffin, but there's too little space.

He can barely move his head, the effort exhausting him, his breathing begins to pick up, the air feels stale, warm as it goes into his lungs.

He begins to cry, in shock, realising what he's done to himself.

Hephaesta had been looking for hours now, she had followed the steps left out by Alex's instructions, and she turned the corner and gazed at the orphanage.

The way there hadn't been nice, but most people avoided her, assume she was supposed to be there.

She walks, sticking to darker patches of the road as she approaches the orphanage, when she notices something. 

There, in the distance, a familiar flat cap lays on the ground.

Faster than she could have imagined, Hephaesta bounds over to the hat. Not giving a damn on who spots her.

Alex couldn't breathe, his vision was spotty, his chest pressing against the ceiling as he struggles to take in oxygen.

He closes his eyes and waits, to open them and see the boatman.

The only sound in the coffin is breathing.

Then he hears rapid, heavy footsteps.

They stop right above him.

Hephaesta stares at the hay in her hands, worn out and covered in lint, she stares at it with a cold gaze, kneeling on the dirt as she processes it.

Then she hears it, a hoarse screaming. Dulled by… something?

She looks around, trying g to locate the source of the muffled shrieks.

Then she notices it.

The hat.

The patch of dirt.

The screaming.

Hephaesta starts clawing at the dirt, scooping up handfuls of loose dirt as she digs, desperately trying to find her friend.

She needed to find him, here, now, in the courtyard if a horrible, horrible place; she needed to find him.

Alex had stopped screaming, dried tears had run down his face, the heat was unbearable, he couldn't breathe.

He felt his life leave him.

As he lays in half-death, waiting for the boatmans visit, he hears the boards above him crack, and then, a leather boot, laced up to the ankles smashes Alex in the gut.

He nearly throws up, yelping as the unexpected blow connects, as a voice above him reassures him, sounding more glad than he is to be alive.

As the velvet is torn from above his face, he sees Hephaesta; tears running down her face as she pulls him out of the coffin, and lays him on the cold dirt.

The last thing Alex sees before passing out completely is her, cap in hand with a smile that could pierce the sun, gazing at him.

Hope you enjoyed it. I tried to sneakily ask you questions about what Alex would do on your blog, too! He was an absolute blast to write, and I hope I did him justice

[bizarrebazaar13]

No my friend, joints are not supposed to do that akdkgkhkhlhlh

…you know what maybe that one girl who refused to do partner shoulder stretches with me because she insisted my elbows bent “the wrong way” was onto something

[capn-twitchery]

oh hey back to red honey talk :3 how would Twitch feel learning about scenarios where people consumed it against their will? ie. jamie's situation, or the situation with victor albert being given it as a baby

please you can't come in here with a :3 right after "red honey talk" when that's like waltzing into my inbox with a hydrogen bomb

anyway this got me Thinking. i think twitch would simplify red honey in their brain for a long time into Just "people only take this by choice and totally disregard or even enjoy my/other victim's pain, and that makes them bad." because that's a lot easier to process! i can't imagine they're putting a lot of thought into whoever is consuming the red honey or why, they just know it causes them pain

so i don't think it would even occur to them (or, more accurately they just don't like to think about it) that someone could do all of that, and then ALSO inflict it on other people to make them suffer too. that's a whole new level of fucked up for them to process

that said, if they Did find out--once they'd gotten over the "oh god do people actually do that" hurdle, more than anything they'd be understandably Fucking Furious at whoever forced someone to take it against their will. does red honey not already cause enough pain that they have to bring in other innocent people too?? i think twitch would 100% consider it one of the most evil things anyone can do

as for whoever was forced to take it-although they're Obviously uncomfortable with the concept of anyone taking red honey, they'd understand it wasn't their choice. they absolutely do not want to talk about it, it gets left at that, but they wouldn't be upset at the person.

(extra for funsies: one possible exception is if it was their memories. that would complicate things. they still wouldn't blame the person who experienced them, but the concept of being around someone who knows that they went through that and knows things about ""twitch"" that twitch doesn't even know themselves, and doesn't want to know, makes them feel 1000 emotions they can't put a word to.

if it was someone they didn't know well who approached them to tell them, they're getting kicked to the ground + threatened with a sword to never, ever speak to them again or they're getting permakilled.

if it was someone they knew & liked--honestly, they're still getting threatened with a sword and told to stop talking Right Now do not say another fucking word about this we are forgetting this happened and you are not ever mentioning it again.

but even with someone they were close to-they would find that incredibly difficult to move past. they have a very real fear of people seeing them differently because of the cage gardens or because of something related to who "they" were Before the cage gardens that they're not even aware of themselves. even if it's pity, or sympathy they don't want it!! i think thy could move past it eventually, providing that doesn't happen, though. and providing the person respects their wishes, of course)

[neathyingenue]

When you're feeling up to it once more, I'd love to hear if Silvia has any plans for hallowmas- there's so many rumours in the air that time of year...

Yay thanks for the ask Prophet!! Haven't drawn it properly yet but Silvia will be dressing up as Hamlet because her dad is dead and she's making it everyone's problem 👍

also I have a costume for Pilar but that'll have to be a surprise ;)

[waterlogged-detective]

🍍 [PINEAPPLE]

THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT QUESTION.

An ask game idk you should send asks while I drink

🍍 [PINEAPPLE] Pineapple on pizza or not?

Yes. Next question.

[the-dye-stained-socialite]

🚪 OC in what they wear when lounging around at home for Elias!

for just lounging around at home (assuming they have the energy to dress) they'd wear a simple and lace-y tea gown! easy to put on, but still elegant enough to make them happy!!

and of course evrything is stained lmao

ask game

[neathbowprideflag]

hey the courier has even showed up in the clip studio assets page

THEYRE FAMOUS‼️‼️‼️