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Sagecygnus [2013-12-19 19:51:31 +0000 UTC]

Hehe that guy looks just like a classmate of mine

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Psychdelia [2013-10-28 21:56:21 +0000 UTC]

This picture is making me so happy, I keep looking at it; I need to do homework but gahhh!!

Blithe chuckles slowly, lowly, his voice merely a whisper in the air. Even as such, every breath seems important, every wayward glance gospel. His skin is glowing, practically, and that's not even counting the multi-coloured tattoos lining up on his skin like an inter-dimensional cartoon character. 

"I'm a liar, is that it?" He murmurs at a snail's pace, and though it's probably due to the molasses of his brain, somehow the witch makes it seem like it's done with purpose, like it's something so important he's saying, something impressive rather than pitiful. 

"Yes. You are. You lie your way through life and through you identity." Bartholomew practically spits, his patience just about worn out from the past few days. And to add this broken, sad excuse for a person to the mix? Well, excuse him for being just a little slow on tolerance. 

A multi-coloured ring of smoke flows out of the witch's mouth on an exhale, everything about him screaming 'CALM, COLLECTIVE, IN CHARGE,' twirling a finger through the air and letting sparks fly off in, not an erratic pattern, but a gorgeous array of tricks and lies. It's not wonder he managed to dupe dozens of people into doing everything he said all those years ago; Even when he doesn't mean to, Blithe gives off the persona of a leader, of a savior. "Hmm. I was aware of the first portion. I think you're wrong on the second portion." He smiles lazily, the dark bags under his eyes betraying not sadness in that moment, but making him look old, wise, and it's insane, ridiculous and just lies, all of it. It pisses Bartholomew off that Blithe can manage to be so calm and collected in these moments- In moments of discontent and emotional despair. 

"I'm not wrong and you know it." The angel says, glancing up into Blithe's hazy greenbrowngold eyes, glancing away just as quick. "You don't just lie to others, you lie to yourself and somehow... You even manage to be selfish while hating ever fiber of your being." He huffs, looking down at his fingers, picking at his nails, trying to appear as though the whole conversation is as laid-back and unimportant as Blithe makes it seem.

But at that last portion, Blithe does go still, tensing, sucking in a breath of smoke and frowning intensely for a moment before fading back into nonchalance, the gradiented cross on his cheek slithering down and curling back up into the shape of a yin-yang. "Not everything is black and white." He says after minutes of silence, stretching his legs out and letting the toes curl and flex, music notes rising along each of the five toes in some complex musical complexion. "But you might be on to something."

Bartholomew huffs out not a laugh but something between a sigh and a grunt of approval, because it looks like the witch is finally getting it, might actually listen to him- Not that, he thinks, he deserves to be listened to, but maybe, maybe he does- tugging a hand through his hair subconsciously, trying not to smile. Not out of happiness, but at the situation. It's all so drab and depressing, he will take a smile when he can.

And of course, Blithe ruins it. The witch stands up suddenly, dropping his- Well honestly, Bartholomew isn't sure what's in the rolling paper- blunt to the ground and stepping on it with his bare feet, scrunching it into the pavement with an audible crunch. The smile slides off Bartholomew's face immediately.  "Do yourself a favor and try to forget you were anywhere near onto something." He punctuates this with a jab of his finger in the general vicinity of the angel, more sparks flying off his finger, voice quiet but deadly.

This time, though, it's not borne of the curiosity a child gets from inspecting an ant, but anger, hazel eyes actually expressive beyond the haze, anger pulsating in his jaw.  It's a complete 180 from before, and again, Bartholomew is met with a twist in his stomach at the fact that he can imagine this, imagine it's the 50's and Blithe is telling off some stupid, ignorant pupil of his, about how he isn't to be questioned. It's so intense, that for a moment, Bartholomew is considering dropping a 'yes, sir,' just to show Blithe he understands, but he restrains himself.

The witch stalks back into the house behind them, slamming the door shut, and while the angel should be cringing, should be angry, he isn't. Because the anger is bad, yeah, but it's one of the only truly genuine feelings he's been able to peg from the witch, and it stems from his facsimile of a life, stems from the fact that Blithe lies to himself day in and day out and maybe, maybe the angel can get him to fully realize that and grow from it.

If he remembers this conversation. 

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Psychdelia [2013-10-28 20:46:15 +0000 UTC]

!!!!!!!!!!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <33 <3 <3 <3 < I cant... exoress how much I love this omg. I scrramed when I saw this , which was awkward honestly. Weird looks were given to me....

Omg omg omg omg omg omg omg omg omg this is just gorgeous. Thqnk you. *falls to the ground ans worships you*

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Harmony-Walls [2013-10-28 16:11:01 +0000 UTC]

LOVELY . I Love his colorful cigarette , what a gorgeous guy

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