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Akimikoisthecutest

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Everything posted by Akimikoisthecutest

  1. Akimikoisthecutest
    This is the first year I was eligible, but it was so much fun! I've loved every second of it
  2. Akimikoisthecutest
    Why haven't you? I love sound, but our mics suck so it's mostly just stress and praying to Tina that everything works. Also our school is old and decrepit and nothing in the auditorium works
  3. Akimikoisthecutest
    yep! I'm running sound for the show
  4. Akimikoisthecutest
    Yeah. When you crack your egg it's like in the Wizard of Oz, when Dorothy arrives in Oz and it's all technicolor
  5. Akimikoisthecutest
    Matilda
  6. Akimikoisthecutest
    Speaking of plays, I helped run auditions today! I didn't audition though :(
  7. Akimikoisthecutest
    Yeah me too. It feels like I'm acting in a play and having to put on a persona every day, all day
  8. Akimikoisthecutest
    Ian Malcolm
  9. Akimikoisthecutest
    Chaos theory
  10. Akimikoisthecutest
    You should put that stuff in a spoiler box.
  11. Akimikoisthecutest
    Realistic water physics
  12. Akimikoisthecutest
    Yeah. I really wanted to say something, but I didn't
  13. Akimikoisthecutest
    Me being in spanish class read that as spanglish...
  14. Akimikoisthecutest
    I don't think so. He often gets kind of annoyed whenever we mention that he might be any kind of queer.
  15. Akimikoisthecutest
    One of my friends said, 'Everyone thinks I'm trans. I'm not but it would be fun if I was. I mean, how hard can it be?" And I don't say anything but I'm like, Oh you sweet naive child. You have no idea what it's like...
  16. Akimikoisthecutest

    🎈🎈🎈🎈 BIRTHDAY! HAPPY! 🎈🎈🎈🎈

    1. KnightSkye Reforged

      KnightSkye Reforged

      Thanks!!

  17. Akimikoisthecutest
    The dressing room was a tomb of velvet and cold light. Kimaya sat before a three-way mirror, but she wasn't looking at her reflection. She was looking at her hands. They were bare, stripped of the rings and silk she’d wear on stage. This was the Low-Light hour—the sixty minutes of silence she mandated before every performance to calibrate her psyche. On the vanity sat a single, weathered photograph, face down. She didn't need to see it; the weight of it sitting there was enough to anchor her. With the mechanical precision of a soldier stripping a rifle, she began threading her tools into her clothing. The Nape: Two magnetic puck projectors slid into a hidden seam in her collar. The Sleeves: She checked the tension on the gravity-fed slides in her forearms. A sharp flick of her wrist, and a vial of Flash Powder dropped into her palm. A second flick, and it vanished back into the silk. The Hair: She ran a comb through her asymmetrical bob, tucked a ceramic shim—capable of bypassing digital deadbolts—behind her left ear, and smoothed the hair flat. "The trick isn't making things disappear," she whispered, her voice a low rasp in the empty room. "The trick is knowing where they went." She picked up the High Priestess Coin. This was the part of the ritual that hurt. She practiced a Muscle Relaxation drill, letting her arm go limp while the coin remained pinched between her fingers. She imagined the grief was like the coin—something she could palm, something she could hide, something she could control through sheer dexterity. She stood up and donned the midnight-blue tailcoat. As she buttoned it, she felt the familiar weight of the Ever-Deck against her ribs. She turned to the mirror. The woman looking back wasn't Kimaya Rune, the grieving daughter of the London theaters. She was The Silver Veil. The mask was perfect: chin tilted at a sharp angle, eyes cool and calculating, a slight, enigmatic smirk playing on her lips. A knock came at the door. "Five minutes, Miss Rune." "Understood," she replied, her voice now projecting the melodic, rhythmic cadence of a master orator. She reached down and finally turned the photograph over. It was a picture of her mentor, laughing behind the curtain of a theater that had long since burned down. She tapped the glass once with her silver coin, then tucked the photo into a lead-lined pocket—the one closest to her heart. She stepped out of the room, leaving the grief in the dark. For the next two hours, she would be God. She would control gravity, light, and attention. She would make the audience believe that nothing is ever truly lost—even if she was the only one in the room who knew it was a lie. Have you heard my french horn? *in French accent* beep beep, get out of ze way!
  18. Akimikoisthecutest
    (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻ DYSPHORIA (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻
  19. Akimikoisthecutest
    Let me know if you have any other questions!
  20. Akimikoisthecutest
    Yes I am AroAce, I think. I could be sapphic but I doubt it. I know because I'm not really interested in any kind of a relationship except for platonic. The thought of me having sex makes me want to puke. I'm just not really attracted to anyone. You can mention sex on the Shard if it is in conversations like these. It sounds like you might just be asexual because that sounds like a QPR or a romantic relationship. AroAce is both asexual and aromantic. There are a lot of other things that fall into these categories, like graysexual/romantic, demisexual/romantic, Aro/Aceflux and so many others!
  21. Akimikoisthecutest
    I can answer any questions you have about being AroAce
  22. Akimikoisthecutest
    Expanse of the Broken Sky?
  23. Akimikoisthecutest
    That sounds so cool! I'm an aspiring author but I can never finish a manuscript.
  24. Akimikoisthecutest
    City of shadows
  25. Akimikoisthecutest
    Hi! It is nice to meet you! Welcome to the shard! What is your opinion on Wings of Fire? Who is your favorite character? What is your opinion on Wayne? Also what have you read?
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