Belamy Thaias
@adequatelyAdjacent
avid reader , occasional poet , former hermit . they/he. question box : https://forms.gle/BwR1gYWdeYnZyoLH9
// OOC pinned info blurb goes brrrr. Maybe someday I'll get off my ass and write a proper HS style intro. BELAMY THAIAS is an olive blooded, Alternian (colony) born troll that quite frankly does not know how to be a person. Former hermit raised by an honest to god cryptid. At twelve and a half sweeps, they've only been in 'normal' society for about 6 months now, and are adjusting about as well as one can imagine. A HOPELESS ROMANTIC and an absolute chud, this one. They are currently out on PAROLE, and have an ankle monitor limiting to the city and surrounding area. Character themes to expect are bad poetry, the overuse of prose, nature, cryptids, horror (body and otherwise), an unhealthy fixation on romance, YEARNING, unhealthy attachment styles, loneliness, and the consequences of the imperial justice system. Naturally. Quadrants all presently empty! Not much by way of a timeline for them but I'm always interesting in expanding in that area ! [bigs my fucking eyes at you] Writer is almost 30 and I don't really have any limits that are liable to come up here. Sometimes I doodle stuff and my schedule is deeply unpredictable. I'm wretchedly awkward when engaged ooc BUT I love writing para stuff and will jump at the chance. Please just let me know if I manage to cross a line on an ooc level. I prommy it's not intentional I am just here to vibe. Uhhh. Yeah! ✌️✌️✌️ > https://i.ytimg.com/vi/T72L4XD5IkM/oar2.jpg?usqp=CCk <
i am channeling the humble cucumber .
. . . on second thought . the cons list probably outweighs the pros a little , admittedly . 😶
reasons to date me include ; i will recite poetry for you . always carrying snacks . i'm a resourceful survivalist that can make due with any situation . i'll recite a whole lot of poetry for you . goth . you can say you've held a cryptid's hand . (:
my hands are all pruned . ):
at least i have a sweet treat .
oh my stars , i may just be hopeless .
saw his face , and got livid all over again . i must now spend the rest of this wretched shift , stewing .
they have packed me among the air conditioning units . i pray we do not hit a pot hole .
sliding around the back of the truck , praying one of these boxes doesn't fall on me .
sleep is finding me in restless fits , tossing and turning like a roast over fire .
ah . i locked in , and got through my whole novel .
it is once more #yearning hours .
it has reached that time of light , where i don't quite know what to do with myself .






