I did a massive cleanup in terms of blogs recently, and the following blogs have been deleted: Lemony Snicket (afflictedauthor), Axel (feralmonster), Neely (xrating), and Izaya (humanitarianisms). It was hard coming to the decision that I had to get rid of all of these characters, especially since I generally had muse for a lot of them, but it had to be done. The following blogs are still here, along with my personal, orpheusturners:
It’s possible that I’ll bring either one or more of the old blogs back in the future, but it isn’t foreseeable at the moment. As for my attendance on the listed active blogs, there are two possible things that might happen—my attendance might go up, due to less blogs to deal with, or, the more realistic option, my attendance will go down and become even more spotty than it already is. There’s stuff going on.
It’s possible I will also be deleting more blogs, too, but I’m going to make an attempt not to do that. There’s also a strong possibility the blogs I do not delete will be hiatus’d or abandoned only to be used as an archive.
She feels upset that he doesn’t seem to want to talk to her about this, because she doesn’t want to ask Micah. She doesn’t even know how Micah would demonstrate anything but maybe she doesn’t want to know, anyway. Abra doesn’t look any less confused at his description, feeling tired and upset because she never understands anything anyway. Abra bites at her bottom lip, looking down and just giving a small nod of affirmation. Okay. Whatever. She didn’t have to fully understand cryptic words anyway. Zero doesn’t seem to want to talk about it, so Abra will shift on his lap before climbing off of him with a small nod.
“Okay, then. I guess that’s. Okay. I’m going to look at—cloud formations in my book okay.”
Fine. Whatever. Abra knows he’s doing his best but she’s upset anyway, because she feels very small and quivering whenever she stumbles across things that no one really wants to explain to her. Maybe she shouldn’t know them in the first place. She doesn’t know—her frustration wells up within her at the most random of times, though. Sometimes it results in broken glasses or torn up books. Abra starts off, anyway, disappearing from the dining room in a matter of moments.
These are the moments the end up sending him into the basement. Moments of weakness, of psychosis, even those seem to be expected now—when he feels the blur, he gets immersed in it and he makes his exit to wait out the hellish few hours. But these moments, these moments where his restraint and attempts at doing what’s best cause Abra to decide she doesn’t like him anymore and retreat, gnawing frustrations jump from his stomach to his chest to his throat, and his fangs appear and split his lip.
His temper never could quite be quelled. Another one of those things that make him whisper curses aimed towards Micah under his breath, though wrath isn’t his sin—he needs somebody to blame.
Zero draws in a breath and doesn’t go after Abra, waiting until she’s in the other room before he goes downstairs and breaks something. He knows she can’t help it. He knows she only has the mind of a child now. All the same, he wants things to move quicker, and he grows frustrated, he grows angry and temperamental, wishing she would comprehend, wishing he could shake her and get his wife out of whatever corner of that brain she’s hiding in.
He’s thinking things he doesn’t truly mean for twenty minutes before he’s calm again, and guilty again.
How to go about explaining what was going on here, that was her predicament.
It was complicated.
It was stranger. It was something that was not easy for most to digest — she wasn’t certain how to go about explaining it to Zero. What she was. Who she was. How she came to wear the flesh that covered her bones and how it wasn’t truly Heather Mason that stood before him. She could sense his awareness of that fact, she could feel that he was dizzy and something told her that he was exhausted; she imagined that that would make this all that much more confusing as a whole. For him, for anyone, really.
❝— I’m her, and yet not — or rather a part of her is a part of me. Her memories, her face. Quirks, to a point… so yes, I’m Iris as I’d said before, but in some ways I’m also Heather.❞ As she moved, she stepped as though pacing, her gaze downcast as fading light slipped through her tresses setting them shy of aglow. Idle and slender fingers toyed at the hemline of her shirt, teeth worrying at her bottom lip. How does one tell someone that they’re the embodiment of something that is no more than a concept, an ideal, if you wish? Shifting, she set to sit upon the armrest of her couch, letting her palms curl into the taut fabric stretched over the armrest’s framing.
❝And I’m not exactly… human.❞
She has pieces of Heather, but she’s not Heather. She’s someone else who took over and carries what was once Heather inside of her, and because he is very aware that the woman he knew would never lose that fight, it must have been inevitable. All the same, he finds himself wondering if it was voluntary, if she really gave herself over to merge and fade into someone else entirely.
He’s quiet for a few moments, trying to fully comprehend this. The information itself is upsetting and it shakes him, rocks some of his already terribly uneven and unstable foundations. Zero isn’t sent over the edge by it; he’s seen enough changes and traumas to begin to learn to accept things as they are, upsetting as they may be.
After all, in reality, she isn’t gone. She’s still here, just different. Remade. Started over, made to be someone else. A new name, a new life, a new species. He can’t say that he’s never wanted that, that he would readily say no if someone told him that he could be a different person. There was a lot that he had built here, a lot that he couldn’t say goodbye to, but he would certainly think about it before he realized that.
“I picked up on that bit,” he says, “I mean, me neither, I guess. But you’re different than what I am. More. You’re a lot more.”
Older, more powerful, infused with something very strong indeed—he’s known this sort of presence before, but what it is remains just out of his grasp, beyond the far reaches of his memory. Another one of the things that was lost in the shift from then to now, something that he’s sure to recover eventually with more hassle than necessary.
She wants to make him happy. She’s always wanted to make him happy—she wonders if that would make him happy. Being able to sheath himself within her—being able to love her like a husband could. Only he could do it, Abra already knows—she responded well with the touching and rubbing, but only because it was with Zero. She wouldn’t have been able to allow anyone else to touch her like that—such ways were so sensitive, she could only have her Beau partake in these ways.
She bites at her bottom lip, peering up towards her partner and lightly brushing her palm over his jaw with a small sigh—her Zero. Her lovely Zero. Abra leans in, kissing at the side of his mouth.
Drawing in a slow breath, her hand lowers hesitantly, bright eyes raising to look towards him.
“…What does it mean—to get. Hard.”
There is no escaping the awkward conversation. Zero does his best not to let out a distressed whine, running a hand through his hair and pausing for a moment to try to find the right words. He’s fairly certain he is not going to use the right words, but he’ll give it a shot—he’ll do the best that he can.
“Y’know. I start feeling—uh, wanting. And then my thing. Gets. Stiff. Hard. You know.”
Yes, that is the best he can do.
“Actually, you know what, you can ask Micah about these sort of things, because he’ll probably be better at explaining it and very happy to do it, just don’t let him… demonstrate anything.”
“But, you know, when people have sex, that’s how it starts off. If it’s a woman, they feel—like you did, and if it’s a guy, they get hard.”
His tongue is stained red from the blood and Abra still doesn’t know how to act, because she’s uncertain. She doesn’t know if she should touch Zero tenderly or leave him be—he was afraid? That was probably realistic, all things considering things Abra didn’t want to consider but knew they existed anyway. She frowns at his tongue sticking, brushing her tiny hands at his chest before she’s leaning in to rest her forehead at his temple.
”—Do you. Feel better now.”
Because he finished his jar and Abra doesn’t really know what else to say, but she doesn’t want to stop talking to him. She never wants to stop talking to him. They don’t have enough time together even if their time is supposed to be endless—she presses her wane features into his shoulder, nuzzling into her partner’s neck.
“Much better,” he says, smiling towards her and wrapping his arms around her frame. He doesn’t want her to feel badly or awkward, but he knows she probably does. He can’t imagine what it would be like in her position, confused and hazy about so many things, frustrated at the fact that she feels like she should understand things.
He doesn’t think he’d be able to survive that. The constant confusion, the lack of comprehension—he think he’d probably snap.
Then again, it doesn’t take very much to make him snap.
*second guesses keeping like 3 more blogs*
As we all know, I’m kind of a blog-making addict who says “this is the last one” every single time. (It’s never the last one. Ever.) And as we all know, it’s hard to keep up with somebody who makes and uses about a trillion blogs, so I thought it’s about time to update the list again for anyone who might care.
Before I list them, though, a note: most of my blogs contain subject matter that can get NSFW or triggering. The story lines I like to explore are more often than not a little heavy, and sometimes can even get a little dark. Keep that in mind before following any of these.
- orpheusturners — this one is my personal blog, so it’s a bit beside the point, but 9/10 times I’m there if I’m not on one of my writing blogs.
- ohfiendangelical — you are here. I also refer to it as “home base” since I’ve had Zero the longest and make most core ooc posts here if they aren’t character-related or blog-specific.
- neonisms — a hunter named Aiden who also runs a modern artistry shop / tattoo parlor. He’s very friendly and open.
- holyvalley — a multichara (so far, and will probably stay, at 2 core characters, Prometheus and Judas) that explores a religious cult that lives up in the mountains. The friendliness of the characters usually depends, and one of them is borderline psychopathic.
- godfruit— Cato is a mystic prophet that lives in a world-between-worlds that you come across by getting lost in the woods. He loves everyone and everything no matter what.
- tetraphobics — an heir to a hunter and music empire named Christian. He’s high anxiety and not cut out for the future planned for him. Considering he probably wants your approval, he’s amiable nearly all the time.
- jeweledhands — Esther. Rich bitch. Loveless marriage. “Money doesn’t buy happiness” theme. Kind of a ditz. May be a little stuck up, but generally sort of kind of nice.
- xrating — Neely Bardot, a young pornographic film star. Her friendliness usually depends, but she isn’t ice cold.
- humanitarianisms — Izaya Orihara from the anime Durarara. He’s an anime villain, so not always the nicest person around.
- notasickness — Andrew Basque, a psychologist with a mildly morbid secret. He’s friendly and amiable most of the time.
how do you delete a blog w/o feeling like a murderer//…..