#flurryobeaus

[burnselfs]

@flurryobeaus​​    —    “ then  i  call  this  a  win.  what’s  the  problem? ”   (  to  caleb  ) 

NEVER   ABOUT   WINNING   OR   LOSING   WITH   CALEB.         not   like   with   her.      sometimes   it   feels   as   though   it   isn’t   whether   she   agrees   with   him   or   not,   but   only   if   it’s   her   idea   that   ‘wins’   in   the   end.      that’s   uncharitable,   most   likely      —      he   knows   her   better   than   that   by   not      —      but   he   is   tired.      exhausted   from   the   journey,   little      (   littler   than   usual   )      sleep   found   in   recent   nights,   and   exhausted   by   this      —      by   her,   by   this   seemingly   endless   bickering   that   never   seems   to   bother   her,   but   sets   caleb’s   teeth   on   edge.   

“      that   is   not   the   point,   beauregard,      ”            caleb   protests,   running   his   hand   through   his   hair,   fighting   the   urge   to   pull   it   out.            “      the   point   is   that   we   are   meant   to   be   keeping   a   low   profile,   not   only   fattening   our   purses.      and   the   point   is   that   you   did   not   ask   my   opinion   on   this!      ”            never   does,   does   she?      never   fucking   listens.   

[archived-hellesfeuer]

@flurryobeaus​​    —    WHAT  ARE  YOU  SCARED  OF  NOW?  YOU  MADE  IT  ALL  THE  WAY  HERE.  AND  I  KNOW  WHAT  THAT  TOOK . . .  YOU’RE  BRAVER  THAN  I  COULD  EVER  BE. 

A   COWARD      —      MAYBE   HE   HAS   ALWAYS   BEEN   A   COWARD.         he   does   what   he   needs   to   do,   back   when   he   is   master   ikithon’s   little   helper,   but   perhaps   it   is   more   cowardly   that   he   does.      now   that   he   knows   .   .   .      now   that   he   sees.      he   knows   what   he   is;      sees   what   they   do   and   knows   they   shouldn’t.      it   is   .   .   .      hazy.      not   so   hazy   as   he   would   like   it   to   be      —      remembers   far   too   much,   always   remembers   too   much      —      but   hazy   enough   that   he   does   not   know   what   he   felt   back   then.      and   does   not   know   what   he   felt   that   was   his   own.      perhaps   he   had   inklings   of   the   wrong   back   then,   though   when   he   looks   back,   all   he   sees   is   a   zealous,   arrogant   boy      —      ambitious   and   foolish   to   a   fault,   devoted   and   delirious   for   empire   and   power   and   learning.      the   cowardice   is,   he   supposes,   new,   a   piece   he   picks   up   from   the   brokenness   that   is   left   once   he   shatters   in   the   ashes   of   his   childhood   home.   

his   skinny   arms   wrap   around   his   thin   frame.      the   darkness   of   the   city   thick   around   them,   only   the   glow   of   the   lamplighters   surrounding   he   and   beauregard,   he   feels   quite   alone      —      alone   with   naught   but   her.      so   .   .   .      not   alone   at   all.      he   would   summon   frumpkin   were   they   not   in   the   middle   of   the   street,   under   the   eyes   of   any   looking   out   from   the   windows   of   the   looming   soltryce   academy   beyond.      he   does   brush   against   beau’s   arm   with   his   own;      that’s   fair   comfort   in   itself.   

“      i   .   .   .      do   not   think   that   is   true.      i   have   watched   you   brave   much,   beauregard.      ”            looks   down   into   her   eyes,   remembers   seeing   them   filled   with   tears   in   the   courtyard   of   her   childhood   home   not   so   long   past.            “      i   .   .   .      i   am   afraid   to   be   home,      ”            he   hoarsely   admits,   tears   in   his   own   blue   gaze.            “      afraid   to   be   .   .   .      here.      perhaps      —      perhaps   you   might   give   me   some   .   .   .      a-advice?      ”   

[commaless-a2]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊?

PURPLE!

those who bear a purple soulcolor are responsible, conforming, and grounded. They prefer predictability over instability and do not take to change well. they prefer to follow a daily schedule to keep themselves motivated and on the path to success, and they don’t stray from their daily chores often.  while they don’t like conforming to society, they also don’t like to stand out.

history and tradition are a big part of their identity. they hold family close to their heart, whether they are found or by blood, and have a high moral standard of themselves. they prefer to be supporting roles in people’s lives, often doing the hard labour to make sure everything falls in place.

since this is a serving type, they tend to become community service members and are most likely to volunteer to help their community. despite their need to help others, they are highly introverted and keep a close closed off circle of friends. it’s hard to break through their wall to become part of their circle, but it’s rewarding.

purple soulcolors are always worried about the “what ifs” and are more drawn to pessimistic or realistic outlooks on life. they are cautious around new situations and never expect they’ll succeed. they often feel misunderstood by society, since most types tend to lean on the optimistic side of life, and only want to point out things that may hurt others, but this causes them to appear like the “party pooper” of the group.

tagged: @tricktress !! tagging: @withpromise ( dot ), @hellesfeuer, @flurryobeaus, @lanternfreed, @sapphiretrickster, @tex-blades & @atlasburdened ( jester! )

[tricktress]

WHAT’S YOUR ROLE IN A FOUND FAMILY? 

the “comedic relief” 

yes, alright, you tell your jokes and do your bits. you break awkward silences and sing silly songs. but what about when you're not keeping the levity? what else makes up the person who makes others feel good? you're kind. you connect with people. you hate to see others sad. you have a vice or two--who doesn't--but the point is, you are the epitome of what it is to be human, and you are able to encompass the absolutely zany improbability of life as we know it. people are comforted by you. they cherish your spirit and relate to you. 

but it can be difficult when you're not laughing. comedy becomes a wall to keep worse feelings out, or in. a person who feels any emotion to the extreme will undoubtedly feel others the same way. laughing is great, but... perhaps a big reason you appreciate your family is because there's something you can't stand in a silence.

tagged by : no one!  tagging : @hellesfeuer @withpromise @flurryobeaus @vampirespawn​ and anyone else who wants to take it! 

[tex-blades]

what’s your role in the found family?

the hermit who helps

at first, you were a resource for the established characters to turn to, but you quickly began to steal the show due to your personality, your usefulness, or your inherently interesting perspective on life. you were pretty much already able to provide for yourself, but the next thing you know, these people are growing on you. instead of asking favors, it becomes an invitation to socialize. you find yourself sticking around for no apparent reason other than you like it here. the people are fun to watch, if nothing else, but ultimately they're just--oh no. oh no, you care about them. you always thought you stayed away from this "relationship" stuff for a reason. it gets messy and isn't worth it unless it really works. for some reason, this group really works. these weirdos are now your weirdos, and if anything happens to them, there will be hell to pay. you were basically already looking after them before this, after all. welcome to the family, hermit.

tagged by: stolen from @flurryobeaus

tagging: anyone

[nancydrcwa]

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 / 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 — nancydrcw.tumblr.com

hey there ! i’m lyns ( 26, cst, she/her ) and this is my main rp blog for Nancy Drew ( pc game and book based ). i’m around sporadically and reply to messages/dms when i can! 

my rules can be found HERE, so if you’re new here, please give those a once over so we’re on the same page before interacting! i really appreciate the minute it would take you to do so! 

𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — all about nancy.

dossier

verses

headcanons

𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄:

@flurryobeaus - beauregard lionett from critical role

@orphanmakcr​ - yasha nydoorin from critical role

@whowanders ( sideblog ) vex’ahlia de rolo from critical role

@dinklcys - velma dinkley from scooby doo

@vexahlias - personal blog

[archived-hellesfeuer]

@flurryobeaus​​    —    FUNNY  THING.  I  DIDN’T  READ  THAT  WHOLE  THING. 

BREN      —      CALEB,   YOUR   NAME   IS   CALEB   WIDOGAST   NOW      —      DUSTS   OFF   HIS   TROUSERS   FROM   THE   TUMBLE   THEY’VE   TAKEN.         looks   over   at   beau,   still   on   her   feet,   fall   be   damned.      he   is   not   delicate      (   not   at   all   ),      but   this   young   monk   makes   him   out   to   be   a   squishy   child   in   comparison.      the   way   she   acrobats   her   way   through   a   blunder,   twisting   and   rolling   in   just   the   right   ways,   leaves   her   with   nary   a   scratch,   and   the   wizard   nursing   what   will   likely   turn   out   to   be   a   sprained   ankle.   

“      i   never   would   have   guessed,      ”            he   returns,   only   a   little   bit   short   with   her.      he   limps   over,   hand   outstretched.            “      i   think   i   will   take   the   map   now.      ”            smiles,   in   the   way   that’s   frightening   with   all   his   teeth.   

in   the   time   they   have   known   each   other,   since   the   cobalt   soul   steals   him   and   beauregard   lionett   finds   a   way   with   him   no   one   expects,   they   have   been   close.      close   enough,   he   thinks,   to   shit   on   each   other’s   mistakes.   

[archived-hellesfeuer]

@flurryobeaus​​ / @exaendria​    —    I  DON’T  NEED  TO  BE  SAVED. 

KEEPS   HIS   EYES   ON   BEAUREGARD   THE   WHOLE   NIGHT.         between   darting   glances   towards   the   road   behind   them,   wondering   again   and   again   if   he   should   simply   turn   and   run      —      leave   them   all   behind,   damn   them   all   to   where   they’ve   damned   mollymauk,   to   worse   for   fjord,   jester,   and   yasha,   if   the   tales   from   keg   are   true      —      his   attention   is   always   held.   

“      beauregard   .   .   .      ”            she   is   thinking   of   molly   again,   he   can   tell.      aren’t   they   all?      but   .   .   .      he   sees   the   guilt   in   her   eyes,   the   regret   that   he   charged   lorenzo   to   keep   her   alive,   as   she   sees   it.            “      you   are   .   .   .      strong.      capable.      quick.      i   don’t   think   you   need   to   be   saved.      i   do   think   that   .   .   .      you   are,   at   times,   impulsive   and   stubborn,   and   that   those   two   in   tandem   do   not   always   work   out   so   well   for   you.      or   anyone.      ”            looks   down   at   his   hands,   then   over   to   where   keg,   nott,   and   nila   sleep   nearby. 

“      but   .   .   .      i   am   reckless,   too.      and   selfish,   and   foolish,   and      —      ”            he   could   keep   going,   but   he   thinks   even   beauregard   would   not   stand   for   that.            “      my   point      —      that �� i   am   making   very   badly,   i   think,   is   that   you   will   save   me   when   i   fuck   up,   and   .   .   .      i   will   save   you,   whether   you   think   you   need   it   or   not.      ”   

[archived-hellesfeuer]

*    @flurryobeaus​​    —    HOW  MANY  TIMES  AM  I  GOING  TO  HAVE  TO  FORCE  YOU  TO  LEISURE? 

HERE   WITH   THE   COBALT   SOUL,   HE   GROWS   ACCUSTOMED   TO   HOURS   AND   DAYS   ALONE.         the   only   one   he   really   sees   and   speaks   with   is   beauregard,   so   he   is   unsurprised   to   hear   her   voice   entering   his   cell      (   still   shocked   every   time   he   is   reminded   that   this   room,   this   fairly   comfortable   though   sparse   room,   is   what   the   soul   considers   to   be   a   ‘cell’   )      while   he   scribbles   and   reads   in   the   books   he’s   been   allowed.            “      i   was   told   to   take   some   time   to   enjoy   myself,      ”            he   replies,   raising   his   eyebrows   and   cocking   his   head.            “      i   am   enjoying   myself.      ”            he   is   not   very   good   at   sitting   still      —      at   not   working.      seems   to   be   a   quality   he   and   the   young   monk   share.   

[archived-hellesfeuer]

@flurryobeaus​    —    YOU  DID  SOMETHING  GOOD  TODAY.  WHY  ARE  YOU  SAD  ABOUT  IT? 

WOULD   LOVE   TO   PROTEST   AND   INSIST   THAT   HE   IS   NOT   SAD.         he   would   lie   and   name   it   exhaustion      —      claim   tiredness   or   sleeplessness,   even   just   his   more-than-typical   melancholy   that   takes   hold   of   him.      but   this   is   beauregard,   and   that   would   do   him   no   good.      they   are   in   the   tower,   beau   finding   him   in   his   room      (   only   jester   has   been   into   this   room;      only   she   has   seen   how   he   has   designed   his   own   quarters   ),      so   he   is   surrounded   by   cats      —      always   relaxing,   though   his   rooms   are   hardly   .   .   .      comfortable.      they   are   enough,   but   barely   anything   to   the   rooms   of   his   friends.   

“      i   am   afraid   that   my   .   .   .      sadness   is   not   so   easily   explained,   beauregard.      ”            a   small   smile,   poking   a   bit   of   fun   at   his   own   mind      —      his   own   feelings   and   emotions      —      and   a   bit   amused   at   the   futility   of   his   own   wishes.      it   is   hopeless      —      he   is   hopeless   and   useless   in   all   of   this      —      and   yet   it   persists.      and   yet   .   .   .      he   finds   himself   wishing,   just   a   bit,   that   someone   would   notice.      that   someone   would   ask.   

[archived-hellesfeuer]

@flurryobeaus​​    —    ANOTHER  START,  AU  STARTER 

‘ROUND   THE   FIRE,   ONCE   THE   DAY   HAS   DONE,   HE   COUNTS   OUT   THEIR   COIN.         in   the   meticulous   way   he   knows   she   hates      —      knows   he   cannot   quite   control,   no   matter   how   long   he   lives   in   relative   comfort   in   rexxentrum      —      he   divvies   up   the   earnings   into   both   their   purses.      though   they   share   most   things,   caleb   has   more   need   of   coin   for   his   components,   for   his   high   quality   parchment   and   ink.            “      have   you   enough   left   in   that   flask   for   a   drink?      ”            takes   a   break   in   the   counting   just   long   enough   to   ask.            “      and   by   that   i   mean:      have   you   enough   to   share,   not   just   to   guzzle   for   yourself?      ”   

[archived-hellesfeuer]

tag drop. 

ANOTHER  START       //    au  verse

[archived-hellesfeuer]

@flurryobeaus​​    —    SCREW  YOU.  I  WANT  MY  FINAL  WORDS  WITH  YOU  TO  BE  INDIGNANT  AND  IRRITATED. 

HE   BATS   AWAY   AT   BEAU’S   DELIRIOUS   HAND,   BUT   HE   DOES   NOT   LEAVE   HER   SIDE.         he   kneels   at   her   side,   only   rising   once   his   hand   blackens   and   readies,   his   eyes   ahead   on   their   enemies   alone,   putting   another   step   it   might   take   in   the   line   of   his   fire.            “      shush,   asshole,      ”            he   says.            “      your   final   words   will   find   you   old   and   wrinkled   in   bed.      ”            not   here.      she   will   not   die   here      —      not   on   caleb’s   watch.   

[archived-hellesfeuer]

@flurryobeaus​​    —    SORRY.  I  DIDN’T  MEAN  WHAT  I  SAID. 

WILL   THEY   EVER   FIND   WHAT   IT   MEANS   TO   HEAR   AND   UNDERSTAND   EACH   OTHER   ALWAYS?         he   must   shake   his   head,   squeeze   the   cup   of   tea   between   his   hands,   and   soak   in   the   warmth   of   the   nearby   fire.            “      i   think   that   you   did   mean   it,   and   that   is   fine.      i   am   .   .   .      not   the   easiest   to   get   along   with.      i   know   that.      ”            a   shrug   and   a   half-smile.            “      but   .   .   .      we   are   good.      always   great,   ja?      ”            

he   quotes   himself,   and   it   makes   the   smile   tug   more   and   more   at   his   lips,   urging   greater   mirth   and   enjoyment   in   the   moment   of   teasing   with   beauregard.      he   nudges   her   boot   with   his   own.            “      i   am   sorry,   too.      one   day   we   won’t   make   each   other   so   crazy.      ”            takes   a   sip   of   his   tea.            “      probably.      ”   

[archived-hellesfeuer]

@flurryobeaus​​    —    YOU’RE  EITHER  WITH  ME  OR  AGAINST  ME 

SHRINKING   DOWN   AND   BACK   SEEMS   AN   APPROPRIATE   RESPONSE,   HEAD   DUCKING   ALMOST   TO   HIS   CHEST.         furtive   glances   off   towards   the   rest   of   the   group,   though   only   nott   seems   to   be   cognizant   of   anything   transpiring   between   the   two   humans   in   their   party.      for   once,   beauregard   is   quiet.      he   can   see   his   little   friend   reaching   into   her   pocket,   knowing   she   searches   for   a   copper   wire      —      knowing   she   will   message   and   whisper   and   wonder   soon.   

“      i   do   not   think   i   am   against   you,   beauregard,      ”            he   says.      that   would   be   foolish   indeed.      he   needs   these   people,   and   they   are   far   more   attached   to   this   monk   than   to   him.            “      you   could   beat   me   to   a   pulp.      ”            tries   for   a   little   humor,   though   it   is   also   true.      probably   is   not   successful   in   communicating   the   joke.   

[archived-hellesfeuer]

@flurryobeaus​​    —    YOU  CAN’T  SAVE  ME  FROM  THIS. 

SHE   UNDERESTIMATES   WHAT   HE   CAN   DO,   AND   SHE   UNDERESTIMATES   WHAT   HE   CAN   DO   AND   WILL   DO   FOR   HER.         he   reaches   and   takes   hold   of   her   wrist.      she   could   toss   him   off   in   an   instant   if   she   chose      —      knock   him   unconscious   with   one   measly   swipe      —      but   he   does   not   care.      for   once,   it   is   he   who   can   push   and   press   in.      he   can   and   will   do   what   he   must   to   keep   her   safe      —      to   keep   her   here.   

“      i   can,      ”            he   swears.            “      i   will.      ”            he   holds   her   still   as   long   as   she’ll   let   him.      she   is   .   .   .      so   young.      so   full   of   everything.      she   will   carry   them   all   for   as   long   as   she   can   and   longer   still.      he   still   sees   her   tears,   however      —      sees   them   in   the   halls   of   her   father,   on   the   road   up   the   mountainside,   outside   the   witch’s   hovel.      he   can   see   her   softness   she   hides      —      her   big   heart   on   her   sleeve,   her   willingness   to   do   anything   for   those   she   loves,   even   to   do   what   hurts   her   most.      he   can   see   that   again   now.   

“      i   don’t   know   what   it   is   you   are   planning.      ”            her   mind   works   so   differently   from   his;      he   has   trouble   tracking      —      trouble   following   her   logic,   her   plans,   her   ways   and   ideas   of   being.            “      but   i   do   know   that   i   do   not   plan   on   letting   you   do   it   alone.      ”