viric-dreams

[viric-dreams]

Attributes, Qualities, Quirks

Stormy-Eyed

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Jones, the year of his arrest.

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You know how "devils are bees" is a popular example of weird fallen london lore out of context. Well I was thinking about it and I think it should actually be

"devils are actually bees, who are secretely actually devils, who are secretly actually bees"

You go in and devils are devils: charismatic soul takers. Then you learn they're putting on this devil act to prank us, they're actually bees piloting human suits and nothing like devils at all. Then you learn they once existed in the quasi-Heavens as servants of the quasi-gods, who rebelled and fled, making them fallen angels. Or devils, again. But then it turns out in the Heavens, they both looked like and were bees, involved in ripening souls for the harvest for their Monarch.

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Commission of Rosie and Ruth for @t6fs!!!!!

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I see through eyes of rain. I am dressed in stormclouds now. I speak with the voices of the zephyr and the sirocco. The polar star sheds its light in my path.

I WILL CALL FORTH THUNDER AND LIGHTNING

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If anyone needs Jones for the foreseeable future, he thinks he's Storm and is currently indisposed.

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Every time I think that Mina is mostly unaffected without their soul, something new hits me.

In their first days of the Neath, Mina did a lot of writing. Most of their writing was investigative journalism. Muckraking. It wasn't something they'd ever done before on the surface, but they fell into it naturally when looking for their nemesis. Anyways, that lead to a bit of creative writing too. Poetry and short stories mostly. They had some published. It was nice.

They haven't done any creative writing in a long time. Not completed anything, at least. Sometimes they'll write down a few stanzas, or a paragraph, before abandoning it on their desk or the dining table. Nothing feels right anymore. They get inspiration, brief bursts of creativity. But as soon as they get the idea down, they can't help feeling like something is missing. Not from them, they've never felt that way about themself. Something is missing from the things they create.

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I was complaining to my friends about having trouble getting into the Parabolan War stuff Sam had been dragged into all the way up until Samuel got possessed for like 30 seconds and couldn't understand the ancient language he was speaking and YEAH OKAY IM ALL ABOUT THAT!!!! just casually use the local deacon as an empty vehicle to drive ur colleague home. normal favours to do for extremely trustworthy snakes.

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24 for His Excellency. :)

- @t6fs

24. What would your OC's pizza delivery order look like? Are they good at ordering pizza? How good do they tip?

I'm assigning him my trait of being the guy who orders for all his friends, because of his Speech 100 stat. He's very precise when describing and listing the orders and he always makes sure to leave a good tip. He would probably get a simple margherita for the classy vibes, or share a diavola with the Deviless. It would have obliterated his taste buds in his youth but he has enough KT to handle capsaicin now.

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trying to draw my cringefail constable guy again

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I see through eyes of rain. I am dressed in stormclouds now. I speak with the voices of the zephyr and the sirocco. The polar star sheds its light in my path.

I WILL CALL FORTH THUNDER AND LIGHTNING

-

If anyone needs Jones for the foreseeable future, he thinks he's Storm and is currently indisposed.

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Telling myself that its ok to post my messy sketches . Anyways Mina and [redacted] in Tangier, circa 1880

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Mina cameo edit 👍

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When they first came to the Neath, overwhelmed with grief from the death of their lover, Mina found the Cave of the Nadir. Forgetting offered them solace. The less they remembered, the less it hurt. (Or at least, they could pretend it hurt less.)

Only after they'd forgotten too much - so much they couldn't find their way home to their new beloved - did they finally stop. They went there less and less. But their experience with irrigo got them a job at the university, and a job at the shrine as a midnighter.

Still, the fear of using irrigo as a coping mechanism stuck with them. Anytime they feel bad, it's so easy and so tempting to just... let go of those memories. Rather than keeping themself from irrigo, though, they kept themself from negative emotion. There's no need to forget if they don't dwell on anything that would make them feel that grief again.

And yet.. This time, fresh with grief of losing the clay highwayman, they don't want to forget. They want to remember.

They request a transfer. They set aside their irrigo robes and put on their travelling coat. They have plans. Big plans.

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Harper for @the-insouciant-scientist :) thank you so much for commissioning me

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Jones fact of the day: as a child he’d learned both piano and the triple harp. The former was the one he’d continued with after coming to London. He likes to play, mostly classical music and some folk songs, but has been getting very into jazz lately, via his more infernal social circle. He’s a much better player than singer, but enjoys both.

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currently pondering Hiram's terrible horrible not good very bad self abstraction... this is just a first draft but I have to share my vision