#auuteur

[sweetbitterbitten]

🎬 my dear, you have beautiful writing and more importantly, a thinking brain. Idk what kind of shows or movies you watch but you’d be able to write so many characters

[rejectory]

where's my 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

WHY are you so impatient. what's the rush

1. What have you learned about people in the recent years of your life?

codependency is their happy place

2. What got you started in your current job and how does it compare to your first job?

just kicking dirt tryna figure out something i’d milk some enjoyment out of doing, which came to be sth i’d once sworn i’d never do el oh el. first job was boring corporate cog in the machine brain-killing bullshit, godspeed to those days being over

10. What does your everyday, average day look like?

talking to ppl, maybe 6-7 of them, usu 1-on-1, + anyone else who meanders into my orbit. good for me, an extroverted freak

27. Who was the last person who gave you something and what was it?

perspective. also a few clients have given me holiday gifts

30. When you go for a meal with friends, who pays? How do you split the bill?

we take turns or each person tends to their own, depends on the occasion. i hate stinginess sorry like i’m physically allergic to it gtfo

47. Where did you go last week?

should i just turn on my location. admit that’s what you want. i can’t remember, a party

52. How would your friends and/or family describe you? How different are you really to what they’d describe you with?

i’ve gotten aggressive, stubborn, curious, non-judgmental, and other variously interesting positive or negative things, also loyal, which is the most important. i like being social and want everyone to be comfortable, but if i catch you being dishonest, i’ll flame you even in group settings for free and yes so if that’s their perception, it’s gotta be correct

58. How important is writing to you?

as important as any other hobby. if i couldn’t do it, whatever. but if i could do none of them, that’d be a problem. proper tools for self-expression are vital for me long-term tho

[muutosarchive]

Is there any fandom you regret exploring? What’s something you find weird on here?What are things that you don’t wish to see on here? What new addition would make your Tumblr experience so much better?

q. Is there any fandom you regret exploring?

a. that i regret exploring? no. i curate my own space - actually fuck it, stranger things. i never should have watched one second of that show, lowest of keys. it was all worth it for jon byers my son, other than that the rest of it is pretty lame and overdone. also the characters to me are generally unlikeable. not to mention the fandom is insane. it attracts teen simps & shitty behaviour. it's like, the experience was not worth the quality of the show.

q. what’s something you find weird on here?

a. where do you wanna start. idk, honestly i stopped sharing my opinion on stuff (on tumblr) a long time ago. the biggest thing is not reblogging promos & expecting people to reblog yours. also, following someone you're not going to engage with.

q. What are things that you don’t wish to see on here?

a. if i don't like it i don't have to look.

q. What new addition would make your Tumblr experience so much better?

a. draft organization? mmm, notifications for unfollows.

@auuteur / / questions for the mun

[ingolds]

@auuteur, continued from here.

     they wouldn't call her a thief, if ever prompted - a woman of opportunity, perhaps, or intelligence. she has sticky fingers, but who doesn't in this city? snatching a ring here or a hundred dollar bill there is no great loss for the people that have them, and there are far worse crimes she could be committing. she could have lifted something from him, to start.

     his pockets, in comparison, are frightfully empty besides the necessities: identification, keys, maybe some loose cash for an emergency that cost as much as a latte. they travel light, an unknown in gotham, happy to remain a mystery on the radar. no chance to be spoken on by the politicians that got in their heads that the papers were the problem and the papers that insisted it was the community leaders that were the issue.

     the fountain pen nearly burns a hole in the fabric of their trousers. words unspoken, a story waiting to be written - but not on her.

     she's got him there. his mouth twitches, almost a smile but not quite. “ on second thought, no. i'm happy to find you here instead of in my own home. ” her fingers smooth over his lapel, righting where its been tugged slightly out of place, and he tilts his head. “ you still haven't answered me, though. what are you doing here? ”

[vegaprose]

5 7 10

@auuteur | mun

Do your IRL friends/family know about your RPing?

Yep, they do. They don't really have too many thoughts about it to be honest 'cause I've always been writing something or other, so it's just kind of another outlet as far as they're concerned. There's not really any conversation about it.

What languages do you speak?

I vaguely know a handful, mostly for roleplaying purposes, but also because I've got family, friends and also had neighbours I picked up on quite a bit from. I'm not fluent in anything but English, but do know basic terms and phrases in Irish, Welsh and also Scottish. Rarely do I actually write Gaelic or Celtic for the muses I have of origins that speak those languages, however, but now and again I'll toss in the odd word or two if a thread requires it. I did the same with Welsh for a time because one of my treasured oc's is of Welsh descent, but the language he speaks is English ( but living in Wales, it was a given he would adopt a bit of the language thanks to his family and the location in which he resides. So, besides roleplaying, I don't really speak other languages.

What is your spirit animal?

A white tiger, discovered through meditation, dreams and repetitive direct contact. I love her very much and she appears to me seemingly in the midst of hardships much like a guardian angel would. I've known about her presence since 2017 but have yet to find out her name, but I'm sure one day soon she'll tell me.

[1nm2]

@trashcollected mun qns

What do you consider the biggest challenge in writing?

thanks for asking, i appreciate it.

prolly myself. i don't know how evident this was before i nuked auuteur, but english has never been my forte, and i don't have an education in literature. i had private reasons to keep on writing so that i would be quicker with my command of language. i guarantee they were not disgusting reasons. i got to the consistent point where i could do what i wanted to do like second nature.

cringe-rusty now.

what does your URL mean, and why did you choose it?

my expression; north korea runs out of food. brad pitt runs outta cash

how did you come across the roleplay community?

surfing tumblr one day, probably. i used to run a blog with over 20k followers including npr and iirc even some really fucking cool indie bands.

interesting story, that blog got threatened by a v bitchy copyright lawyer from texas, who mistakenly thought i'd pulled an original photo of hers without listing her as a source. tumblr wrongly removed it even though hard evidence was there for anyone with common sense to see that it wasn't true. she immediately accused me of having taken her photo because the day i posted (the blog runs on a 3 week queue), someone from canada downloaded her image.

i have never set foot in canada. but i've just recently heard from ppl who came back from niagara falls adventure. the... dream of a very hardworking person in their 50s that had just actualised.

so. anyway. she was threatening to sue.... the details are not worth the mention now but a couple of years later when i googled her, she'd done the same thing to someone else online.

what lesson did you take away from this?

what age range do you most enjoy playing?

all are fine. and btw, i would have written sprite from the eternals as a mature adult, in her child frame. yes. but yeknow, tumblr, too grey an area and in fact subjectively more black than white.

[immortalmuses]

@auuteur​ sent:  I know your face well. [haldir @ legolas]

          Garbed as he is in such shining attire -- more akin to that of the Galadhrim court than a Mirkwood Elf -- Legolas seems washed clear of his usual golden, earthen tones. His hair gleams silver against a pale cheek, eyes like ice chips reflecting the half light. Haldir’s words tease a curling smile from the Prince’s lips, but he is is slow to lift his gaze. 

          “Are you so sure the face you recognize is mine?” He asks, only half a jest. “....I am told I look a great deal like my father, at times.” 

[swordoaths]

@auuteur​ wrote:  “  loneliness is a slow and cruel poison.  ” (Legolas to thranduil)

    His steps were measured and of a speed that suggested time held no bearing upon the Elvenking. They were steps of enduring, despite loss. And though no physical imprint was left in their wake, a sense of mourning whispered in the winds each time his foot connected with the forest. Occasionally, the wind plucked a brown leaf from its branch. It floated in the air until finding its end upon the forest floor. One landed upon Thranduil’s shoulder, its rough surface the exact opposite of the silken robe that clothed him. It teetered there--- only for a moment--- as though it had some message for the Elvenking. Once the message was delivered, it slipped from its hold, succumbing to the earth as many leaves before it had done.

   How often was mourning associated with death when mourning was a sign of life--- of feeling--- of memory. Or so it was to him.

   With hands folded neatly behind his back, Thranduil kept his pace. Though his gaze was set forward, his head inclined slightly toward the presence of his son. If it had been some stranger who had spoken such words to him, Thranduil’s response may have been more harsh--- like the blow of a sword wielded to protect the lives of his kin. But it was no stranger. Nay, however many years that might have parted them, Legolas would always be his son.

  “And is it loneliness you see here.” It was neither a question nor a statement; it was merely a response given for contemplation. “A poison that has brought only suffering.”

     He remained quiet for a moment. There were many things he wished to tell him--- of the lives and the places his son had not known, or the leaves that had once been green in the early years of his life. But it was not his way. The memory of it all was buried within him and under the soil beneath their feet. The story had always been there, around them, for not all stories needed words.

   “To be lonely is to be entirely without. As such, it is a word that has no claim to me.”

[bigidiotenergy]

“I’m not... ready... to give up this fight.” Strained, as if trying to convince himself more than the other person.

@auuteur​

[sweetbitterbitten]

3, 16, 47

3. What’s your story? Give a paragraph statement (or two) about yourself and/or why you are roving the RP internet. i think i mostly was introduced to rp through a gateway online forum where members could interact or "chat" with vampires from the anne rice chronicles back in the early aughts. and for the most part i was on forums from anything to pirates of the caribbean to original victorian gothic to hellboy until 2012 when i slipped into tumblr. it truly was just...a pipeline. or....rafting on a river. writing just sweeps one where it wills. and i let it take me where it needs to. never know when a new trend might suit you specifically. 16. Do you find communication easy or difficult? Why? i think i communicate well in written word, spoken...perhaps not so much. the thoughts don't consolidate as fully and firmly when i must create them out of the air from my own lungs. but from thought to fingers and fingers to ink/print? it's just a more comfortable a medium. there's a freedom in giving the brain time to attempt an understanding versus needing to speak out immediately or else the moment passes.

47. Where did you go last week? fuckin' nowhere. literally just work and home. but i'll be a little more social this weekend and attend a small coworker prechristmas shindig, so hopefully that makes up for the lack of last week.

[rejectory]

@auuteur​: “do you know who i am?”

❛One of many.❜

And by arguable extension, no one in particular. He retains Antiope’s air—an undifficult task, encrusted in all that he is.

❛Tell me of your cause, and I’ll tell you if you stand out.❜

[muutosarchive]

𝑎𝑢𝑢𝑡𝑒𝑢𝑟 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑑: 𝑏𝑟𝑢𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑎

SEND ME A SHIP AND I’LL TELL YOU…

Who’s the cuddler? bruce lmfao. he won't press. i feel like he takes what he gets, but he'd be inclined to.

Who makes the bed? selina. she'd quip that she's trying to make him feel at home. even though he's perfectly able to make the bed, but she'd do it forever to make a point.

Who wakes up first? bruce, i would think. selina seems a night owl, yet she won't miss an opportunity because she slept in.

Who has the weird taste in music? i think both have picked up some interesting tastes along the way.

Who is more protective? bruce

Who sings in the shower? selina - could be wrong but i'm going with it.

Who cries during movies? neither. both too hardened, they examine it.

Who spends the most while out shopping? lolol selina spends more of bruce's money.

Who kisses more roughly? selina

Who is more dominant? selina

My rating of the ship from 1-10. 11/10 with our interpretations.

@auuteur

[corpatrem]

i do the one thing that you can’t. - @auuteur​

A slow smile starts to appear on his face as Harvey turns gently in his office chair from side to side. “Is that right?” He asks, eyes sparkling with levity as he relaxes into his chair. “And what’s that, Scottie -- lose?” Smiles wider, tease evident in his voice as he looks across the room over at her. 

           “You haven’t come all this way just to rag on me like that, have you?”

[ingolds]

@auuteur. —  ❄️ watching an aurora.

     in their mind, theo has seen it all. they are more well traveled than most everyone, having seen italy’s coast, the mountains at the northernmost point of europe, where the land turned lush and green again to the southeast. there isn’t much out there for them to witness; what other mystery could the world hold that hasn’t already been discovered by their eyes, by their nose, by their paws hitting the earth?

     but an aurora - that’s new for them.

     the sky is a kaleidoscope between drifting clouds, stars glittering behind lavender and sea green. their gaze is wide and wondered, tiny pinpricks of light glowing in the black void of their pupils. theo could call himself enraptured, could call himself hypnotized. seeing the northern lights from this far south should be impossible, but they cannot argue the reality of this marvel in front of them, shimmering from one edge of the horizon to another.

     “ i didn’t know gotham was capable of such beauty, ” they muse, more to themselves than to their present company. one could almost think they didn’t know she’s there - but then his eyes cut sideways, landing on where the roof’s edge drapes her in shade. “ wasn't sure the city had the heart to show something like this. ”

winter aesthetic starters / accepting

[vegaprose]

5

[ @auuteur / bulletproof heart by mcr ]

JOKER   is   visibly   uncomfortable   as   the   silence   falls   between   them   ,   after   the   sudden   recalling   of   memories   that   he'd   thought   he   had   forgotten   a   long   time   ago   ,   but   evidently   ones   that   were   fresh   in   his   mind   .   Anger   swells   up   inside   of   him   to   such   a   degree   that   he   lashes   out   at   the   nearest �� object   ,   it   flying   by   Gordon   a   little   closer   than   he   may   like   ,   but   J   doesn't   even   consider   apologising   .   It   didn't   matter   that   the   Commissioner   was   trying   to   get   through   to   him   —   to   try   and   talk   him   down   from   his   antics   against   Gotham   or   to   dig   deeper   into   the   mind   of   a   crazed   man   who   was   always   a   single   flame   away   from   a   whole   bonfire   .   Teeth   gritted   ,   he   turns   to   face   Gordon   one   more   time   ,   raising   his   hands   as   if   to   admit   defeat   ,   but   he   isn't   about   to   step   into   those   shoes   at   all   .   J   is   never   going   to   turn   himself   in   ,      no   matter   the   damage   he   had   caused   or   the   lives   lost   because   of   it   .   ❝   I   don't   mean   t'   ..   uh   ,   disappoint   ya   ,   Commissioner   .   I   might'av   had   ,   ah   ..   a   life   that'd   drive   most   people   to   the   ——   loony   bin   ,   but   uh   ..   y'won't   catch   me   ownin'   up   to   any   a'this   ,   or   tellin'   some   ol'   sob   story   about   my   ..   ah   ,   life   .   ❞

[placeabo]

Home — poetic notions, drippings from the heart, something happy, something sad, so the simplest answer was  — England, and the wizarding world within it, was his home. Cloaks, wands, buildings, business signs informed Theo that he was home, yet he nearly felt like a wizard surrounded by muggles. The business were past, present, future, and cobblestone roads knew the stride of his feet. Theo could have walked through busy areas and back alleys with eyes void of vision, but hands noticed the subtle difference in thousand year old buildings as they moved across surfaces with something of sentimental value. 

It was pure scientific curiosity, and, perhaps, he questioned if what was transpiring was reality or dream. The witches and wizards of the time noticed the anomaly. Muggle-like befuddlement drew more gaze than Theo desired, and his clothing must have looked queer, too. They must have thought him old-fashioned when, in reality, he was new-fashioned. It had worked. It had worked! Now what? The sick, twisted notion of prying into Nott family affairs crossed his mind. It was ugly. Compelling. Not the agenda of his travels. Tiresome and heavy hours spent learning the pureblood families was childhood. If he looked back at the pureblood brainwashing, the memory was warped, sullen, almost void of all color. 

He remembered though; the studious Nott boy he was. Theo remembered the Malfoys, the Notts, and the Lestranges. A muddy, black-and-white memory of dead families come to full life, vivid before his eyes Theo was stunned. The name Letta Lestrange caught his immediate attention, and perhaps for the sake of his sanity and and making sense of his era, he sought her out. No real end goal was at hand. His typical composed self crumbled with fumbling lips. It took her words and several seconds more for something of worth to formulate on the tip of tongue. 

❝  I’m sorry. Do you have the time, and. . the year, by chance?   ❞    

▸ 𝑾𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑳𝑳𝑺 𝑾𝑬𝑨𝑽𝑬 .  .  .  . .    ❛ Well, speak - I can’t  read  your  mind. ❜     𝙁𝙍𝙊𝙈    @auuteur​​