Robert Donlan - Tumblr Posts

Do you have any poems you could share with us?

I don’t write poems really, but I do write a lot of stories! These stories are where my OCs come from, actually. Here’s a few snippets from things I’ve written:

“I feel…” Robert began slowly. “I feel like I don’t fit here, anymore.” He tilted his head slightly, face drawn. “I feel like the whole world is different and I’m… the same. What do you do when you realize you don’t have a place anymore? Where do you go?” Bella took his hand tightly, squeezing it to be sure he listened to her, and listened well.

“No matter how much things change, there is one place you will always belong, and that’s right here. With me.”

—

"I cannot believe I let you talk me into this..." Blake grumbled from behind John, who was grinning like a loon, pink eyes glinting. Just beyond their hiding spot was a horse, tall and robust; an expensive-looking leather saddle sat upon its black and grey bespeckled back. It snorted, shaking its head, ears twitching.

"Oh come on, look at it! The saddle alone has to be worth, what, ten... twenty silvers? Maybe it could even be worth five gold if we find the right person." John argued.

Blake snorted. "Right, but that's all assuming we get away with stealing it. Besides, won't someone wonder where we'd gotten it from when we try to sell it off? You don't just get rid of stuff like that unless something fishy is going on. We could get caught, and then Royalists will chop off our heads to use for polo."

"What a wonderful image," John quipped, moving back from where he was peeking around the building to level a blank stare at his friend.

—

John ran his hand across the object's surface, feeling rough, sandy stone; delicate runes carved across it. Embedded in the center, glittering in the sunlight, was a white gemstone. Fingers hovering above the gem, John felt a scorching heat emanating from it. Where the heat came from was anyone's guess, but John moved his hand away after only a few seconds, unable to leave it still without feeling like he'd burn himself. Weird, he thought, as he stepped away from the slab.

Hello Cosmic. I have a question! Do your oc have a favorite item, hobby, animal, etc that could be considered obsessive, like do they have an undying love for cats and such?

Hey there! My OCs definitely have interests, skills, and hobbies. Not all are obsessive, but there are a few 😅

John has a locket that contains a photo of him and his deceased wife Evelynn. It’s his treasured possession and he always wears it, tucking it into his shirts.

Blake loves maps and books, and is constantly buying them. He considers it a hobby, John considers it an obsession: “Seriously, who needs that many maps?”

Josep loves to cook and garden, and has quite the green thumb.

Adler is a pro at reading Rune Language, and can translate Runes in a matter of hours. Adler doesn’t think it’s too special, but Josep loves to brag on his husbands behalf.

Nathan has a favorite cloak that his mother gave him for his tenth birthday. It’s red and super warm, and even has pockets on the inside!

Hortensia is obsessed with Dark Magic and the things it can do. She refuses to acknowledge the dangers of using Dark Magic. She only cares about whether or not it can help save someone...

Ebba is obsessed with capturing Nathan, as he is a Mage and it is her job to exterminate any Mages who do not fall in line. She also might have a grudge against him, John, and Blake because they made a fool out of her. Either way, she’s trouble.

Bella has paintings that were created by her husband, Robert, who was a Seer. Sometimes he’d have terrible visions, and he’d paint as a way to calm himself down. He’d been captured by Royalists years ago, but Bella still has all of his paintings.

Mari has an old postcard from Lorport. She’d found it being used as a bookmark in a book she’d saved. She’d never been to Lorport, but she hopes she’ll be able to go someday…

What kind of art each of your ocs would like the most? example like culture art or pastel art. - 🥧

Hmm, let me think…

I think Blake would like Cubism, John would like Pointillism, Nathan would like Pop Art, Josep would like Abstract, Adler would like Classicism, Bella would like Surrealism, and Robert would like sculptures that he could feel (he’s blind)

can you share your favorite line of dialogue out of context? :)

Is it ok if I share my favorite lines of dialogue from something I’ve written? Cause I really like these dialogues;

John rubbed his chin, acting deep in thought, humming. “Well, I’m no good at this sort of stuff, really… What about fifty coppers?” The woman laughed so hard she almost choked on her own spit, head thrown back sharply.

“Fifty?! It’s nice, but not that nice! Tell you what; I’ll give you ten and we’ll call it fair.”

“Psh, only ten? I’ll admit fifty might’a been a bit high, but I’m sure you can go higher than that.”

The merchant huffed. “Fine, fifteen.”

“Thirty.” John replied. Behind him Blake rolled his eyes.

“Twenty!”

“Twenty-five. C’mon, meet in the middle; That’s fair!”

With a nasty scowl the merchant hung her head, defeated.

“Fine, we have a deal at twenty-five– If you throw in the horse.” She added with a cross of her arms, probably feeling smug. That actually worked out perfect for him and Blake, but he couldn’t act too excited, so he pretended to think about it. Blake glared at him, glancing between the horse and the woman rapidly.

“Ehhh… Alright fine, I guess you can take the horse, too.” He said, sighing.

“Perfect! I’ll count out the money.”

————

“And then?” John brushed his hands together to get rid of the dirt.

“Then we grab Robert and get outta dodge, is what I’m thinking. Of course we could always stay for tea, maybe some finger sandwiches–“

“I mean that this is your plan? This isn’t anything! It’s half-baked!” Adler yelled.

“Less than half-baked.” Blake chimed in. John rolled his eyes.

“Well then go ahead, make a better one. I for one haven’t had the privilege of being inside the castle but since you obviously know it so well–“

“None of us know what it’s like inside, that’s why we need Ekward’s help!” John stood up in a huff, glaring and flexing his fingers around the strap of his bag slung across his chest.

“Why don’t you go and chit chat with the bird’s then? I’m sure one of them will have Ekward’s contact information.” He said sarcastically.

————

(Does inner dialogue count?)

He hummed, re-reading it once or twice before setting it down and pouring another glass. He lived in New Jersey, a quiet suburban neighborhood, and he was supposed to go to Oregon because a paper told him to? It was ridiculous, laughable even! He drained the glass and poured one more, drinking it just as fast. He'd better get packed.