They/them. Black, autistic, agender, aroace. Likely to back up fictional writing here. Looking to have a good place to write in roleplay format for multiple characters -3 Original Characters to be honest with you.
It doesn’t even feel too cold, just refreshing as water slides down the nape of his neck and starts to soak the thin shirt he’s wearing. Even the odd feeling of wet clothes against one’s skin doesn’t bother him in the slightest, the snake simply blinking up at the falling drops with a slight smile.
“Humansss are easssily entertained and impressssed.” He retorts, not to be rude or put down Saima’s opinion but simply stating a very obvious fact. “They wish to have much power but are not resssponsssible enough to handle sssuch giftsss.”
Saima hums for a bit, relishing in the feel of the water. None of it seems to throw them off in any meaningful way. Such is the benefits of being able to control how the water shows up on you.
They laugh a bit at Ayumu’s comment although it is very true. “You’re totally right in saying that. It’d take a few generations of them to even potentially handle a small bit of power. And watching that would be a wild process.”
In general, Saima tends to like for people just what they choose to tell them and maybe let folks figure out more from there. But a major thing that they don’t really want people to know about is the ways that they consumed hearts of comrades in their younger, younger days – when they were getting used to maintaining a physical form. It had been partially survival, partially finding something to carry the memories of those friends with them. In such ritual consumption, they preserved the memories of those few they roamed with.
Also – they’re not entirely opposed to doing so again if it came down to it. But that’s not something they like going around mentioning.
Atlas smiled at their words he wanted to continue looking at the statues but he knew it would just look weird, they had already been there for some time. Eventually, he sighed standing up, “Why don’t we reminisce about other things, I fear if I look at any more statues of myself I might become as vain as Aphrodite herself.”
When they saw that Atlas had stood up, Saima joined him ready to stroll along further. “Oh certainly – there’s plenty of memories to be said. Memories of seeing the way people would just light up with a familiarity that was enough to warm even the most lonesome heart at times.” They can’t help but laugh at the comment about being vain as Aphrodite.
“Wouldn’t worry about that – seems like you’ve got plenty of room to go before you reach that point. Not that I can blame you for enjoying the sight.“
Flaws. We all have them. Even our muses. In fact, they often make for better, more engaging characters. Send a symbol to learn about one of my muse’s weaknesses!
🙊what would my muse say their biggest flaw is
⧱ what really is my muse’s biggest flaw
🤳name three physical imperfections my muse has (birthmarks, gray hairs, muscular definition, etc)
🙈what’s my muse’s biggest blind spot?
🍰what’s my muse’s guilty pleasure?
😰when my muse is stressed, how do they act out?
💚what does my muse get envious over?
🚫what is one thing my muse wouldn’t want someone else to know about them?
🛌my muse’s biggest nightmare
✍️does my muse have a learning disability?
🎒what was my muse’s worst subject in school?
🙅♂️what does my muse feel insecure about?
👾what was my muse’s childhood bogeyman?
🙉what are two things that make my muse uncomfortable in conversation
He looked back at the statue of himself. He didn’t receive praise, or scorn, anymore but people still travelled from far and wide to see him and that was enough to keep Atlas alive. To keep him grounded so he didn’t fade into nothing. “I think it’s nice. Time has changed so much, it’s strange to think that I was there once when they built this, all of this. And to see it so many years later admired by people who don’t have a clue. It makes me feel a little hopeful.”
Looking at the statues, Saima felt a little wistful – knowing the imagery of their home was more sparse. But the traditions were still there in a way, passed down through holidays and song and maybe that would have to do for now.
“True, I do get the appeal. To see that people still have admiration for these stories for those in those stories..it’s nice. Sometimes knowing that the stories or images of these stories are still out there is inspiring. It’s comforting to still be part of the people’s imagination.“
Atlas let out a laugh throwing his head back, he raised his beer slightly. “Amen to that, I’m Atlas by the way,” he shoved his beer in the sand dusting his hand off slightly before extending it. “I sort of only came to this thing for a friend of a friend and the free beer but I sort of regret that now.”
The laugh made Saima smile, enjoying the sound for a moment. “Nice to meet you Atlas.” Once the hand was extended, they accepted Atlas’s hand for a handshake. “I get what you mean. I came to meet some folks and while I did that earlier – it’s also just kind of hard to navigate. Makes one need to get a break from it all. ” Socializing wasn’t something that came super easily to Saima so they needed breaks to recharge and center themselves.
“Sorry that you kind of regret it – the things you do for a friend of a friend, huh?“
After scrolling through her phone a bit she shows off the ultrasound picture to her friend. The baby really does look like a blob at the moment, but the general shape of a little human is there. “That’s my lil’ Timothy! I can’t wait till he gets here.”
Saima goes to take a look at the ultrasound picture. It was still kind of strange that such photos could be taken. But it made them smile a bit nonetheless. “Ah what a cute little blob. I’m sure he’ll be a precious little baby once born.”
Seekesotsibteadmist 