Entry tags:
- dear evan hansen: connor murphy,
- fragile dreams: ren,
- marble hornets: tim wright,
- mushi-shi: ginko,
- original: chip abaroa,
- original: erika fisher,
- undertale: asgore dreemurr,
- undertale: chara dreemurr,
- ✖ camp camp: max,
- ✖ disney: mickey mouse,
- ✖ ensemble stars: kanata shinkai,
- ✖ ffxiv: tataru taru,
- ✖ fragile dreams: seto,
- ✖ little witch academia: atsuko kagari,
- ✖ no.6: shion,
- ✖ one piece: monkey d. luffy,
- ✖ original: kyouko kougami,
- ✖ original: yuka ichijou,
- ✖ the adventure zone: lup,
- ✖ the adventure zone: taako,
- ✖ undertale: muffet
i know it's just a number but you're the eighth wonder [ OPEN MINGLE ]
Who: Tim and EVERYBODY WHO WANTS IN ON THIS CAUSE IT A MINGLE
What: Nail-painting. Destressing. We have earned something Nice for ourselves.
When: February 12th
Where: Just outside the Storyteller's Temple
Warnings: Probably nothing of note? Will add if needed.
There's a man sitting cross-legged outside the Storyteller's Temple, general hub of interaction that it seems to be turning into. He still looks like shit, granted, his face a colorful patchwork of bruising and a fresh bandage slapped around his middle, but that hasn't stopped him from making the best of things. A few vials of some various colorful fluids might not be familiar to everyone here, but after everything? Screw it, thinks Tim. They've deserved a break. He deserves a break. The kids here, especially, deserve a break. It's time to celebrate the fact that they are no longer in danger of freezing in the dark and living out the remainder of their days in a bleak, sunless existence.
And he liked colors, as a kid. In the blank white walls of a hospital, where everything was drained of variation and bleached white and left bone-blank, the occasional bursts of color allowed in packages of crayons and colored pencils at art time were treasures. They stopped giving him crayons after he drew the man in his room one too many times, a tall black shadow in the back of every drawing that had the doctors exchanging looks with tightened jaws and the clearing of throats that too clearly spoke to their disapproval.
It dogged him, even once he stepped out of those empty walls, his wardrobe as consistently drab and dull and monochrome as his life. It dogged him with featureless rooms and
Fuck that.
Fuck that especially, because it means that kids like Ren grew up without colors in their lives, and it means that they've had precious few simple little pleasures in the past month, and it means that they are all owed a goddamn break. And if he's bound to be a freak no matter what he does, he may as well be one with a spot of color or two.
So today, to celebrate? We're painting nails.
Fuck it. We're painting nails.
It's safe to say that Tim's new at this, particularly when he only has one good hand at the moment, but he'll still seem quite open to sharing with whoever happens along - especially if you're a kid.
What: Nail-painting. Destressing. We have earned something Nice for ourselves.
When: February 12th
Where: Just outside the Storyteller's Temple
Warnings: Probably nothing of note? Will add if needed.
There's a man sitting cross-legged outside the Storyteller's Temple, general hub of interaction that it seems to be turning into. He still looks like shit, granted, his face a colorful patchwork of bruising and a fresh bandage slapped around his middle, but that hasn't stopped him from making the best of things. A few vials of some various colorful fluids might not be familiar to everyone here, but after everything? Screw it, thinks Tim. They've deserved a break. He deserves a break. The kids here, especially, deserve a break. It's time to celebrate the fact that they are no longer in danger of freezing in the dark and living out the remainder of their days in a bleak, sunless existence.
And he liked colors, as a kid. In the blank white walls of a hospital, where everything was drained of variation and bleached white and left bone-blank, the occasional bursts of color allowed in packages of crayons and colored pencils at art time were treasures. They stopped giving him crayons after he drew the man in his room one too many times, a tall black shadow in the back of every drawing that had the doctors exchanging looks with tightened jaws and the clearing of throats that too clearly spoke to their disapproval.
It dogged him, even once he stepped out of those empty walls, his wardrobe as consistently drab and dull and monochrome as his life. It dogged him with featureless rooms and
Fuck that.
Fuck that especially, because it means that kids like Ren grew up without colors in their lives, and it means that they've had precious few simple little pleasures in the past month, and it means that they are all owed a goddamn break. And if he's bound to be a freak no matter what he does, he may as well be one with a spot of color or two.
So today, to celebrate? We're painting nails.
Fuck it. We're painting nails.
It's safe to say that Tim's new at this, particularly when he only has one good hand at the moment, but he'll still seem quite open to sharing with whoever happens along - especially if you're a kid.
[ooc: yes this is a mingle for painting some nails feel free to top-level all over]
did someone say NAIL ART? (ota)
Now, there's fucking colors and he can actually see them all so he's meticulously drawn rainbow pinwheels on one of his hands and done multicolored dots with a rainbow accent nail on his other hand. He's having fun.]
Hey. [He actually looks like he's happy for once? That seems fake, but okay.] Come here, I'll do yours.
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The small gathering of people was enough to draw Shion in, to see what was happening. It didn't seem serious at least.]
Mine? [He's not sure if the other boy is talking to him but he steps forward cautiously anyways, the nails catching his eyes. He's still not sure what this is. He's never seen peoples nails painted before, not in the Tower and definitely not in No.6. It was... it was art. Done in miniature. The colours made him smile.]
They're really pretty. [He looks like he really wants to accept that offer.]
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[There's no hesitation in this gremlin's voice as he offers, what must be, a chance to have the prettiest nails on the freaking island. Look at that? Look at him? It's incredible? Can he do cats? That's the real question here. On one hand, her nails are a mess of purple and blue and pink from the shoddy first attempt she made to do them herself. In a rare gesture of mercy, she holds out her unpainted hand for him to design on.]
Where did you learn to do that?
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[Luffy is amazed. His nails look fun!]
Can you draw my pirate flag on them?
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tim wright | ota
"Can't decide on which color," he says, if you look like you might be interested. "Never done this before. Plus, I've really only got the one hand, so."
So help him out. Paint his nails, if you want. He's an open canvas.
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"I, um...I never really did this before either. I-I can try, though?" At least they have two hands to give it a shot with.
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You would look pretty with-
[She picks up a couple-teal and yellow. Perfect. Amazing. Purple too? Always purple. Here we freaking go.]
These colors.
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You could always be a rebel and just go with the full rainbow if you can't pick. Since we're already throwing societal expectations out the window anyway. Fuck the fashion police.
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There were all sorts of cosmetic products available in Eorzea of course, especially in Ul'dah, but in various ways were restricted to the upper classes, of which she herself was no longer a part of.
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"You're the one who masterminded this little spa day, right?" He doesn't sound incredulous, exactly; he'd be entirely the wrong person for that, considering just, probably everything. "Guess that's one way to handle--" he waves, clarifying nothing except Taako's general distaste for the recent vagaries of island life, "All of that." Despite this, it seems like he thinks it's a pretty good way of handling it, and may eventually express that.
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"And you think I have?" Though that won't stop them from beginning to pick out a few colors. Some blue and... perhaps a green, too. No black or red. They've seen enough of those colors, lately.
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[ ZOOM. Here comes Kyouko, who looks fit to burst with sheer excitement over all this nail painting business. ]
I can do any colour I want, right?
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When she arrives, she looks a bit out of breath, but also a bit more excited than the situation probably deserves.]
Excuse me, I heard that people were getting their nails painted here?
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"Hell yeah!" Lup chirps from where she's sprawled in the shade of her umbrella. It's a fine day for doing jack shit and she's savoring it. Propping her heart-shaped shades up on her head, she grins up at the girl. "You wanna be painter or paintee? Grab some colors, sweetheart!" She's still got one good arm and a couple centuries of fashion experience, even if Taako was always better at the really delicate stuff than her.
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Akko | OTA
[She sets herself up near the stock of nail polish, chatting happily with anyone who comes near while she paints rainbow stripes along her own nails. If anyone seems hesitant to join in, she waves them over with a big smile.]
Hey! Want me to do yours?
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Wait til Ren finds him."Nah, I'm good. Just checking out the competition. Didn't know there were any new wizards in town," he says, and he's clearly not actually intending any sort of intimidation, because who would do that? Not New Formula Taako, for sure. This is just fun, curiosity-fueled icebreaking.
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i'm so sorry this is late omg
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Seto | OTA
Still, 'nail-painting' at least gives Seto an idea of what this is about. He doesn't have a favorite color but he's likes blue so that's what he'll use for a bit, although Seto will hand it off to someone if they ask for it.
But painting nails are a lot different then drawing maps. So it's turned from painting nails to painting fingers. But he's enjoying himself regardless.]
This is pretty fun.
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And blue, the absolute best color, is what draws him over to the person using it, not looking at all concerned about how they're painting up their entire fingers. ]
Ehe, it is "very fun", isn't it~? Is this your "first" time painting nails..?
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Mickey Mouse | OTA
Gee, this isn't easy when the brushes are so small.
Erika | OTA
Not just her, but everyone here. She hasn't seen this much fucking homogeneity in how people dress and look since high school. It's boring, and she can only imagine how much it must suck for the kids.
So, basically, to skip over all the rambling about choice and control: She's really, really happy about this.
Erika works on her own nails a bit at a time, bright pink banded with purple, but anyone watching or seeming to have trouble will be waved over pretty readily. "Hey! You need any help with yours?"
Muffet | OTA
[A closer look will reveal that she seems to be doing some kind of gradient, each of her three pairs of hands getting a different color: bright golden coin yellow on the top set of nails, a shimmering pale copper orange on the middle two, and richly dark blood-red on the bottom pair.]
[The overall effect is rather flame-like... which is a good match to the other recent addition to her usual look, courtesy of the Jormun- a pair of phoenix feathers carefully tied into her hair at her right ribbon. Even beyond the physical, Muffet looks calmer than she has in a while, finally allowing herself to relax for a little while instead of rushing off to handle whatever crisis is going on at the moment.]
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Wow, you're a great artist too? Is there anything you can't do?
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Ginko | OTA
So. He is here, just… sitting off to the side, watching the proceedings with a small smile. Even if he has no intention of getting involved, chances to see people around here just enjoying themselves for once are nice enough on their own.
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Hey! Can you draw on this nail?
[He shows everyone a different nail, he wants as many colourful creations as possible.]
OTA
In theory, sure, he knows what nail polish is. But a nail painting party? One that he can just sort of join? That's a novelty. And frankly, this whole island experience has been rather lonely, so even if he's a little awkward about joining, he does.
It's sort of fiddly for him, working with such small and delicate objects as nail-polish brushes. But Asgore seems dedicated to it, carefully holding the brush between two big fingers as he focuses on painting his nails yellow-and-green.
Picking two colors probably made this harder. But, you know, he does usually make things harder on himself!]
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[Can't run away from this forever. He can be cagey, as is required of him, assuming it still is. He can be solemn. He can lie. He can chase conversations in circles, and act like none of them will cling like cobwebs to the corners of his own mind.]
[The quiet urge he knows is there - the urge to couple the greeting with a polite sir - that doesn't belong to him, and can be safely ignored. It's just a normal conversation. A normal conversation between two people, one a large goat monster who has murdered children, and one a bruised, broken man who has been murdered by children.]
[Namely, one.]
Never done this before, huh?
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OTA
So he starts with some primo nail TLC, natch. Sure, the emory board is just finely milled sand glued to wood, and this is, ultimately, an exercise in futility, since they'll all be back to gutting fish in no time, but there's gotta be a Taako Time(tm) nugget in there somewhere about impermanence adding to beauty. Not like, a true one, but still.
This colour palette has absolutely dick all on his own carefully curated hoard in terms of selection, but Taako makes the best it with something surprisingly tasteful, with the kind of precision and attention to detail that only a hundred+ years experience can provide. Now he just needs to figure out a way to post the resulting #nailart on the rocknet somehow. In the meantime, he guesses he can help these absolute dunces with the bareass caveman basics of nail care and design, should anyone be into that.
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"Goodness," he breathes, obviously awestruck, "That must take quite a lot of skill."
And steady hands. All she can think of is how he'd probably make a very good goldsmith, with that kind of dexterity and ability to work on small, fine details.
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OTA
So Lup's very enthusiastically trying to get the cap off a bottle with shimmering gold polish. But speaking of injuries - it's not going great. The hand sticking out of her sling just won't keep a good grip on the bottle, and when she twists the cap it sends a spike of pain up her arm, making her wince visibly. Her useless brother is too absorbed in his own damn nail care to help, typical. She's gonna use her teeth next if nobody stops her.
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"Did you need some help?" she offers.
Please don't damage your poor teeth, Lup.
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