#cecil.

[grimbeak]

ok who ran over kevin

[mellowmaidenhairs]

one week til nighvalw back

[bloodykneestm]

"i am so sick of this espionage bullshit," cecil comments distastefully, the word itself causing his tongue to arch theatrically with disgust, instinctively scraping against his teeth as if to rid himself of a loathsome taste. he washes the melodrama down with a beer, slumping like a stubborn adolescent in his chair. "i shouldn't need to be fucking pr-trained to kill people for a living."

@artmadc liked this for a starter!

[choicescreen]

connected ocs, new york city at the turn of the century / early 1900s, so come get yall juice.

cecil algernon. fifty-four. triple threat vaudeville performer. cecil grew up in the business. his entire family formed a traveling troupe, and they haven't slowed down, even if they've splintered and joined various acts throughout the years. cecil got an audience of his own after his bawdy song-and-dance routine proved popular with the younger crowd, eager to push boundaries, and infamous with the aging crowd -- all since passed on. since then, his life has been one of non-stop action. passionate, earnest, and always heard. never married, the stage is his passion. he considers the younger performers his children, more or less.

freida radzin. thirty. caberet singer and in-a-pinch nurse, former circus performer. optimistic and imaginative, freida thrives in just about any environment. when she isn't working nights, she helps her father -- a pickle salesman -- with the business, and scrubs floors with her younger sister. her older sister is a milliner, and her little brother is still attending school, and will be the first in the family to graduate with a high school diploma. fluent in yiddish.

pakur "patrick" al-muqri. forty-four. immigrant ship doctor. pakur didn't necessarily attend medical school. as a young boy, he was chosen to be a surgeon's assistant on a boat crossing the atlantic en route to america. that's where he learned the ropes, and spent more time on the sea than he did dry land throughout his twenties. soft-spoken and no-nonsense, pakur can sometimes be read as an unapproachable recluse. through his work, he advocates for the rights of immigrants, especially children. polyglot, part of the job.

marion larue. thirty-five. saloon owner, former circus performer. the only one who didn't stay in a metropolis, marion's found his niche owning a bar in a nondescript midwestern town. tenacious, foppish, occasionally arrogant and vain, though incredibly charismatic, so it's hard to stay mad at him for long. still performs his magic tricks, but only if you ask nicely. light in the loafers, queer as a three dollar bill, etc etc -- it's a bit of an open secret where he's moved to, and not one at all back in new york. him and freida are best friends.

[stpeters]

location: somewhere in the nsa that elijah shouldn't be! closed to @byreticence !

every bone in their body is telling them to turn around and leave. they’re not meant to be here — heroes are not meant to be sneaking around the nsa like this, and certainly are not supposed to be going directly against the orders that they've been given.

still, even they can sense something is off; no one is telling them the truth, and all their publicist has told them so far is to not talk about the serum as much as possible, to stick to the script and say their heart goes out to the late hero's family.

but why?

there has to be a reason they're not sending the others after samael straightaway, they can feel it.

they're reaching for one of the cabinets in the dark file room, and just when their fingertips brush against the handle, there's a footstep behind them. they whip around just as quickly, feeling their heartbeat in their ears, now.

"cecil," they swallow, "you're . . . here late."

[thquldnunc]

Florence itself was but a radiating city of orange hues, brightened conversation and shifting eyes caught behind the backdrop of shadows. But to Thomas, who had never quite found the itch to move anywhere beyond English borders, it felt only stale with awaiting punishment. Why he was there, alongside the esteemed council skill of Cecil, de Vere and Lady Percy who acted as their gilded translator, was a matter of the gravest importance. As their King went to Dover to meet his feared half-sister, Thomas had received word from a certain ambassador set upon Italian soil a troublesome kind of news had broken against his own better judgement.

When Edward Seymour had been given to the world in some last laugh of the Tudor’s want for another son, Thomas had been given the role of guardian. It had been his first proper role after the fall of his old mentor Cromwell, and had been given with great importance. But, Walsingham was not a wet nurse, and still sore from an infant loss of his own, Thomas had decided to extend the babe at arm’s length. Instead, he gave him away to another in some seclusion within Boleyn focused land — of course, he had met Edward on occasion, when he would not be missed beside the backdrop of Henrician court life. He had grown plump from over-indulgence, and wore such a look that once belonged to his natural father that Walsingham was forced to look twice — but, he left most of the care to his surrounding maids that had been plucked from both obscurity and desperate nature to do what the Spymaster would insist upon. It was only his fault of misjudgment that all had blown up in his face.

He had been eager, then, to split their group of four into two groups. Though he felt he could trust de Vere, he did not know Lady Percy well enough to be alone with her — or to indeed confide with her for the mistakes already made, Thomas was only in need of Cecil and his confidence, and so caught his company in some effort to walk along the Arno before the council would reunite to witness the matron who claimed the youth of the illegitimate Tudor. “To think that our first European tour is spent in such mockery. I do hope de Vere does not fool the gentleness of that young lady, though better he than yourself,” he added, his smile playing upon his lips before he lead the way into their suited apartments, already rushing to inspect the security, pulling back sheets and wooden slats in order to banish any looming spy. Once their isolated was confirmed, Thomas mood shifted into paranoia.

“Do not ask me how a Seymour has found himself in Florence, I do not know, I do not understand myself. Someone has sought to undermine me and it has worked… Gods, if William does not see my neck upon the block then I would be a lucky man. You must promise me, Cecil, to make sure Penelope and Cecily are out of the city, that they are deep in English countryside and you must, you must swear to keep them safe." @jamescecils

[tamamita]

Please have heart and do not skip!

Donations urgently needed.

Nader and his family are nearly reaching half of their goal, and we need as much help as possible!

This fundraiser is vetted by @gazavetters, number four on the spreadsheet here

They're not asking for much, just €10 should suffice!

By donating, you are not only helping Nader, but you are saving him and his family.

We have managed to raise €12000 since the beginning of our campaign, and as with any other Palestinian who are fighting for their lives against the oppressors, I do not wish for Nader and his family to succumb to the murderous regime. Please, together we can raise enough so that they can afford for basic necessities as well as for them to be able to escape through the border crossing, once it opens.

We have already dealt with Zionists who attempted to compromise the campaign due to their own vendetta against the Ghazzans, and thanks to you all, we've successfully fough back and won, proving the veracity of this campaign. Please, do not back down. We need everything we can muster to help Nader and his family.

It's only gonna get harder now that UNRWA has been banned in the Settler state. Let's fight this battle together!

Tag list:

@90-ghost @heritageposts @gazavetters @neechees @butchniqabi @fluoresensitive @khanger @autisticmudkip @beserkerjewel @furiousfinnstan @xinakwans @batekush @appsa @nerdyqueerr @butchsunsetshimmer @biconicfinn @stopmotionguy @willgrahamscock @strangeauthor @bryoria @shesnake @legallybrunettedotcom @lautakwah @sovietunion @evillesbianvillain @antibioware @akajustmerry @dizzymoods @ree-duh @neptunerings @explosionshark @dlxxv-vetted-donations @vague-humanoid @buttercuparry @sayruq @malcriada @sar-soor @northgazaupdates2 @feluka @dirhwangdaseul @jdon @ibtisams @sawasawako @memingursa @schoolhater @toesuckingoctober @waskuyecaozu @lapithae @ryo-yamada @opencommunion @el-shab-hussein @feluka @paper-mario-wiki

[waterloggedsoliloquy]

i cant get over the king charles portrait. they made that thing to age in his place. that painting hangs in the house of a too-friendly family you find in the post apocalyptic wasteland who inexplicably has a ready supply of fresh meat. if mario jumped into that painting he wouldn't find a charming platformer he would be flayed and hanged like a medieval criminal by an unseeable force in a droning red void. that painting is a color blindness test for people who work in IT but believe in the divine right of kings. that painting is going to weep the sequel to blood. after he dies charles is gonna crawl outta that thing like sadako.

[luminarai]

Oh nooo I hadn’t noticed that my cat’s automatic feeder was getting low on food so as usual she dashed off when she heard the machine start but I couldn’t hear the usual sound of her food falling into the bowl so I went to look and my poor cat was just. Sitting there. Staring at her empty food bowl. Then for a second she glanced up at me then right back to her bowl with the biggest, saddest, most bewildered eyes you could ever imagine on such a small creature. I filled her bowl and the machine right away ofc but I still feel a little guilty 😭

[swanpyart]

Cecil Palmer could do TMA but Jon Sims could not do WTNV. Cecil has no fucking curiosity, as the Archivist he would read all the statements and go “golly, these sure are fun :)” then find out about the Fears and kill Elias in three days. Jon in Night Vale would be fired and eaten day 1

[halluciniwaynia]

listening to wtnv in 2024 makes me understand immediately why tumblr over a decade ago thought this shit was the coolest thing ever. it casually but flawlessly parodies the us surveillance state, ultra-militarized police forces, inane human resource bureaucracies and the blasé of the suburban middle class all within the span of three episodes with a very tongue in cheek slice of life format that doesn’t sound possible on paper but is executed absolutely absurdly well

[croffle-bits]

Fighting God in his own home

[ugli-ly]

if you think about it it's only fair that Character With No Canon Physical Description is declared sexiest man by popular vote. on the Critically Acclaimed Movie That Doesn't Fucking Exist website

[vaperarmand]

[potato-lord-but-not]

put all the podcast guys in a room together for group therapy

[kostektyw]

some buttons for the fellow voters out there

Edit: more designs and some info available here :)