bakerstreet | other words.

eremophobia - the deep fear of stillness, solitude, or deserted places.
honne 本音 - what a person truly believes; the behaviour and opinions which are often kept hidden and only displayed with one's closest confidants
sehnsucht - "the inconsolable longing in the human heart for we know not what"; a yearning for a far, familiar, non-earthly land one can identify as one's home

can play him at any time period, fwiw. for those who're new to westworld / haven't seen S1 in its entirety but plan to, profile may have spoilers.

Edited 2022-07-23 15:15 (UTC)

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ecophobia (n.) a fear or dislike of one's home.
saudade (n.) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost; 'the love that remains'.
skinship (n.) bonding through the intimacy of touch, especially of the closeness between a parent and child.
induratize (v.) to make one's own heart hardened or resistant to someone's pleas or advances, or to the idea of love.
fanaa (n.) destruction of the self; 'destroyed in love'.

[ info in journal. f/f pref for shipping. ]

yugen (n.) an awareness of the universe that triggers emotional responses too deep and mysterious for words.
dépaysement (n.) when someone is taken out of their own familiar world into a new one.
lítost (n.) regret and remorse and repentance; a state of agony and torment; or sorrow said to be 'created by the sudden sight of one's own misery'.
psithurism (n.) the sound of the wind through trees.

1: nepenthe - something that can make you forget grief or suffering
2: uitwaaien - to take a break to clear one's head; lit. "to walk in the wind"
3: qui vive - heightened awareness or watchfulness
4: agowilt - unnecessary fear

[ info in journal. m/f for shipping. ]

áoyè (v.) 'to burn the midnight oil'; to pull an all-nighter.
meraki (n.) the soul, creativity or love put into something; the essence of yourself that is put into your work.
sgriobhadaireachd (n.) a writer's business.
quotidian (adj.) boring; part of commonplace events.

caim (n.) lit. "sanctuary"; an invisible circle of protection, drawn around the body with the hand, that reminds you that you are safe and loved, even in the darkest times

oniochalasia (n.) buying or shopping as a method of stress relief or relaxation

alate (adj.) having wings; lifted up in flight

or bring your own!

ailuromancy
(n.) divination by watching cats' movements
dépaysement
(n.) when someone is taken out of their own familiar world into a new one
orphic
(adj.) mysterious and entrancing; beyond ordinary understanding
bricolage
(n.) something created from a variety of available things

( or use a different word~ )

For better or for worse, Five has always been acutely aware of the passage of time. When it's days before an apocalypse hits, or months since he made any real progress towards finding his way back home, he can feel it like a physical weight on his back that seems to get heavier the longer he fights against it. For all he's tried to shoulder it, he drags further and further behind. For every equation he solves, something new comes along to completely throw him off and suddenly nothing adds up any more.

If it weren't for the mountain of repercussions, Five would have loved nothing more than to go back and strangle himself for ever deciding to set foot in this cursed village. Once they finally book passage out, he's the first to start gathering up his pride and washing his hands of the entire experience. He's not sure how many more times he's going to be able to start over again before it breaks him, but for now he picks himself back up and pretends not to obsess over exactly how many days he wasted.

Packing is pointless. Not one thing he saved is salvageable, and even the writing on his walls are smeared with blood. It's getting to him so much that he can hear Dolores' voice in the back of his mind, reminding him of everything he did to get this far, only this far isn't really anywhere is it? He's out of the apocalypse but he still feels it lingering just out of sight, like the oppressive weight he can't shake off, and he abruptly decides that he needs some air before he starts to get in an argument with himself.

He's near the outskirts of the village when a flash of movement catches his eye. Only a shadow, but it's oddly familiar to him. He frowns and follows it, mostly for want of a distraction, and soon finds a woman around a corner reaching for a stray cat. It's not just any stray though. He hasn't thought of the animal once since it disappeared in the mountains, but he'd swear when it looks back at him that he knows it. The way it perks up and stares at him like no time has passed at all.

Without a single acknowledgement to what the woman was doing, he narrows his eyes and steps closer. "Where did you find that?"

Edited 2022-07-23 23:42 (UTC)

Animals are ever so unpredictable when she is near. She has never been cruel to them, though neither has she been overly kind. Perhaps they smell the deaths of their ancestors and brethren on her hands; not murders, though. She hadn't been a killer yet, but death did follow her then and now, and still she chases after it in turn (in circles they go). Little Vanessa had loved her dead beasts, her stilled and poised predators that mirrored their lives, their hunts, back into her with every moment she gazed into glass eyes.

The eyes staring back at her now are not glass at all, and their haunting is of a different nature as Vanessa squints fiercely at her tiny stalker. It's been following her for quite some time now, yet any time she's attempted to engage it, it's gone back into hiding or attacked her. Yet it lurks, belly low to the ground as it follows each time her back rises and turns. By now she's had just about enough of it, and it's come down to a staring contest, her own teeth bared in a silent hiss as she stares it down. It stares right back, frozen in place but no hackles raised. Tiny beast, wretched creature, I see now. What is that behind your ear? A thorn, a splinter? She has the cat under the spell of her gaze just long enough, nearly, to begin reaching out to see further.

Yet its attention turns suddenly, and all at once Vanessa feels her hackles raise. Nausea bubbles up only momentarily while the cat turns from her to peer at the newest trespasser. Wrongness is no longer only within, crawling under her skin, but permeating the air she's forced to breathe. For a moment she needs to gulp it, but then she turns as well while still hunched, just as the cat begins to slink towards what looks to be a young man. A child? Her vision doubles, and suddenly a dry retch takes hold of her. Glad that she hadn't the stomach to break her fast that morning, for modesty's sake alone, she's still left to clutch at her belly with a dry gag against her other sleeve. It's a similar feeling to when she had first come here.

Her clouded blue eyes stare with rapid blinks at the boy, offering no response at first, which might be excusable given she must look terribly ill. She keeps blinking, as if unable to right her vision, unable to see. Occasionally, she glances up just a touch, as if looking to someone slightly taller (behind him? nobody's there), then back to him. She squints.

She mutters something under her breath─Angelus Domini─tranced and only half aware, and the cat pauses halfway between the two of them and yowls.

Then...she sighs. A ripple passes through her; shoulders settle; back straightens. The nausea eases, and she shuts her eyes for a moment. What on earth...? Oh, dearest Miss Ives, we must remember that we are nowhere near our own beautiful world, are we? Not Earth.

"I believe she found me. She seems to be injured." Her voice rasps, but only as it ever does in a delivery that grates as much as it glides. Her appraisal is calm and careful when she opens her eyes and drops her hands to her sides. Colors returns. As if nothing at all has happened. "Is she yours, then?"

Edited 2022-07-25 00:26 (UTC)

the man in black | westworld | OTA

lady capulet | neumeier's romeo and juliet | ota

jamie | la sylphide (r!63) | ota

Red Blood Cell | Cells At Work

marie-clarisse martin ● original ● ota

anna of arendelle | frozen | ota

vanessa ives ☓ penny dreadful

no subject

no subject

Ganymede | Greek mythology

gwen wynne-york | original

sabaism feels correct; setup for some pre-relationship fae shenanigans?

hell yes, perfect

Gavir | Annals of the Western Shore | OTA

secunit | the murderbot diaries | voicetesting, ota

selina kyle, dc comics

Lambda | OC

Ryoko Shinonome | 13 Sentinels: Aegis Rim | ota

kintsukuroi.

no subject

Lady Sif | MCU | ota

kamala khan | mcu | ota

no subject

no subject

Sisi Wittelsbach | Elisabeth das Musical (Modern) | OTA