luckhissoul

[luckhissoul]

Trio by camartgallery

Mat Cauthon by camartgallery

#;never alone ;; caracarnn #;call me nostalgic ;; xradiant ; perrin #;son of battles ;; fc

[luckhissoul]

"keep telling yourself that."

"In an easily outdone way."

#;chats #;elayne

[luckhissoul]

"i'm gonna punch you in the face."

"Go on, pick something. Anything. I've got it."

#;chats #;francesco

[luckhissoul]

"i'm not having this conversation with you."

"Look, you can pay it back over time."

#;chats #;francesco

[luckhissoul]

well, rand was going to let that get to his head, wasn't he? he didn't want to tell rand that the plan might actually work. it was going to be something to at the very least see the party. see the whole place, see the way these people lived. blood and ashes, they lived real good, didn't they? high off the flaming hog and all that. while when you sat tight and did something good for the world you got next to nothing. you got sneaking into a party as the bloody help! he hated the way that felt.

but rand had it right, didn't he? because no one noticed the help. it seemed the best disguise to have. he lets out a breath, nodding his head. "you know, it's not half as bad as i thought that it would be." he says with a small breath, disbelief heavy in his tone. the whole thing better work if he was going to make that kind of idiot of himself.

"we only have a couple of days to prepare for this." he says, reaching for the drink that rand had brought over. he's eager to get it going. feeling the urge to just keep moving. this was a fast paced life, wasn't it? and they had to run if they were going to keep up. "if i'm going to be honest i like the idea of catching them right under their bloody roof."

He was actually glad that he had agreed. Sometimes they didn't fully agree to plans but this one - well, it seemed more than sound. Rand was prepared with the details in his head and he knew just where to get uniforms that they could wear to slip on in. They would play the part well, like they tended to do just about everything right. Not that he was going to go and declare that to the world.

"And here I thought that you were allergic to the idea of work." he teased as he leaned back where he was sitting, thinking further on the idea. He looked over the photos before he turned his gaze back to Mat. Of course he knew that he would rather be doing things differently. Maybe he even thought that they'd be living something of the high life. Rand almost felt bad.

Rising from the couch he moved towards the kitchen to get them a couple more drinks and then looked off towards him. They always did the hard jobs and succeeded. How was he going to assure Mat that once they got this job out of the way they would get a leg up from the bottom where they were simmering. "Do you really like it?"

#v; undercover in the grime #caracarnn

[luckhissoul]

"you know i'm hilarious."

"It actually isn't."

#;chats #;elayne

[luckhissoul]

"stop. you look like an idiot."

"It's okay. I'll spot you."

#;chats #;francesco

[luckhissoul]

"it is kinda funny, isn't it?

"That's hilarious that you would think that."

#;elayne #;chats

[luckhissoul]

"that i'm just about the most bloody brilliant man you've ever met."

"What do I mean?"

#;elayne #;chats

[luckhissoul]

"it's not even that expensive."

"Don't hate on it just because you can't afford anything here."

#;chats #;francesco

[luckhissoul]

"i know what you mean though."

"When I call you nonsensical?"

#;chats #;elayne

[luckhissoul]

"this market is ugly." @xhideyourfires

#;chats

[luckhissoul]

"i like when you say things like that." @agoldenlily

#;chats #;elayne

[luckhissoul]

#;it's time to toss the dice ;; musings

[luckhissoul]

Archetypes | THE TRICKSTER

See him hiding in plain sight, with charm and flair, smoking your cigarettes and drinking all the rum, promising you the moon with one face and stealing your immortal soul and your pocketwatch with the other. The trickster more often than not cannot be understood, merely guessed at, for he wears many masks and takes delight in playing the fool to make greater fools of others. He is a black hole at the centre of the story with many reflecting facets, a blind spot in the hero’s vision, sucking up all the love and light and truth and turning them into shining rupturing distractions. He is a gateway to transformation and the underworld, with chaos at his right hand and death at his left, and a terrible whimsy in between. Change is the song he sings, and chaos the ruin that he wreaks. Like a particularly toothsome shark, he will never stop moving onward.

He cannot abide any absolute or rule, will rattle at the cages of authorities until they come tumbling down. He likes to watch worlds crashing and burning and whirling like a whizzing firecracker with them. He has no care for good or evil, no need for the usual vices and virtues of humanity. Where others see fate and patterns, morality and honour, gods and righteousness, he sees only lies stretched over mayhem, and plays with them like a child playing cat’s cradle. Lies are his mother tongue, and with them he shapes and reshapes himself and the world to his liking. He may be destructive or merry, precise or bacchanalian, dealing out death or candy or all at once, but he is never, ever tame. He has no means but chaos, no plan but disorder, no motive but winning whatever fickle game he is playing against the universe, and so may be left standing alone in a burning wreckage that he never intended to create. (He will probably laugh for the flames anyway).

He charms, he whittles at wills, he holds up a mirror to your soul and will twist your mind until everything you see is so warped you will trust only him to speak the truth. And the truth he will speak; only just enough truth to fit his purpose best. He is not a guide; though he may become one by chance or boredom. Humanity is a fascination for him; an ongoing project. He may hate, or he may love, but only in strange ways unbound from traditional emotion, from right or respect or truth, but in creeping, crawling, manic ways that burn and turn the object of his love inside out; that sends them howling mad into the abyss until they destroy themselves or come out the other side burned clean, like earth scorched and made fertile to grow things not seen ever before. 

What he desires above all else is to be free, free to pursue his pleasures in all their caprice and recklessness through the playground of the world. Yet often, in the end, he is bound for his crimes against nature. He will always rise again. Change is his game.

Examples: The Devil, Hannibal, Jack Sparrow, Tyler Durden, Loki (when he’s not trying to rule the world), Robin Goodfellow, Iago, Prometheus, Howl Jenkins, the Doctor, Alice Morgan, Moriarty, Anansi, Coyote, The Joker.

#;aesthetics

[luckhissoul]

alice hoffman practical magic

kofi

#;never alone ;; caracarnn

[luckhissoul]

To have her here in bed with me, breathing on me, her hair in my mouth—I count that something of a miracle.

Henry Miller, Tropic of Cancer

#;little treasure ;; agoldenlily