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ALIAS: Taylor
HEIGHT: 6'2"
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QUOTE/LYRICS: If you want money in your coffee and secret refs in your tea keep your paper heart away from me
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Joined: 19-April 14
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Last Seen: Nov 16 2014, 04:44 PM
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idris lewellyn


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Nov 12 2014, 07:02 PM
[dohtml]<link href='' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><center><div style="width: 455px; color: 334455; font-family: playfair display; font-size: 50px; margin-bottom: 17px; font-style: italic;">saviours and saints ,</div><div style="width: 450px; text-transform: uppercase; color: 121212; font-size: 7.5px; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 10px;">-- devils and heathens alike --</div><table cellsapcing=0><td><div style="width: 160px; height: 290px; background-image: url(; border-left: 40px solid #334455;"></div></td>

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One thing about being a talkative, color-obsessed, giraffe sized-mome rath, nothing managed to rattle Rissa’s steadfast desire to dress strangers up like pretty knights and princesses. It was only occasionally he dressed a prince like a princess or a beautiful lady like a very comely knight in silver breeches. Well, more than occasionally. <p>

The Gala had called Rissa’s name from the very moment he’d heard tell of a huge party. A <i>party</i>! With dresses and sparkles and music, oh my! Idris had immediately run to the palace to offer his services to anyone interested; he had plenty of clothes to share and more than enough practice with his hands to get hair and make-up <I>just so</i>. He started early in the morning, skipping the dirty festivities including mud-related, blade-slapping nonsense to instead beautify all the lovely lads and ladies of Wonderland. By late afternoon his crowd had dwindled to naught, or more honestly his clothes which had – surprise, surprise – actually run low. But Queen Rhiannon – who personally requested him early that morning to prepare her outfit – offered the Palace’s coffers to any guest who wished to join in. <p>

That meant as soon as his stash ran low, he could go to the palace and set up shop there all the way until the real party began—the balls! He loved balls. But first, the beauty preparations. Idris had packed a small satchel of essentials – as well as his own outfit for the gala – and headed to the palace, hell-bent on the rooms and rooms of untouched clothes to play with. Once he made it inside, however, Idris was a bit lost. Picking out the first person he happened upon, Rissa practically jumped into the strange man’s arms when he reached out to grip Fintan’s shoulders. <b>”Sir, can you please help me? I’m hopelessly lost and I have work to do!”</b><p>

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### , Fintan, It's random I'm sorry >_>

, <a href="">&hearts; lauz</a></div></center>[/dohtml]
Nov 12 2014, 06:56 PM
Idris did not condone stealing. It was a very bad thing to do, and he knew – well, Jenna had explained to him – that stealing didn’t mean free money, it meant someone lost all the money they worked so hard for. Stealing was wrong. <p>

Finding things? Well, that was a gray area. Jenna never explained to him the difference between stealing money and finding it; just that one was bad. So when pretty, air-headed Idris walked down the cobbled streets of London and discovered a beautiful, shiny platinum credit card he only hesitated for about thirty seconds before making a decision. Stealing was wrong.
But finder’s keepers!<p>

Rissa had been minding his own business, walking around the streets of London when he had discovered the card—and low and behold, not two blocks away there was a huge shindig going down! Streamers hung from lamp-posts, streets packed with people. And the food! He could smell something sweet roasting a few stalls away, and there was popcorn and cotton candy galore. But beyond the food – which, admittedly, caught his attention and drove him to buy a big wad of cotton candy, to which he finished in about thirty seconds – clothes fluttered on home-made racks and under big, dusty tarps. Clothes, let Rissa repeat. <i>Clothes</i>. Clothes of every shape and size, every style and season. So many periwinkle winters and ambers glittering on plastic hangers. He reached out to touch the lovely creations, some high-end fancy stuff brought in by local businesses and others hand-made by very dedicated designers wanting to get their products out to the world. Idris stocked up, plowing through the various stalls and piling them high in his arms in search of a place to try them on.
They made his heart flutter, these beautiful, decadent fabrics in every color of the rainbow. Now, there was so much fun to be had and so little time—who knew how long this beautiful, wonderful event would last? He had so much to do, Rissa hastened down the makeshift walkways, eyes over his shoulder as the colors filled his vision. He was so distracted he didn’t notice the slab of stranger-flesh until he barreled into someone and fell flat on his cute arse with a high-pitched squeal. <p>

<b><i>”The clothes!”</b></i> Rissa didn’t even look up until he’d gathered his precious commodities into his arms and made sure not a speck of dirt marred a single one. Embarrassed, he peered up at the person with a wide, if slightly apologetic, smile and bright red cheeks. <b>”I’m so sorry about that—“</b> Rissa’s jaw dropped. Don’t mind the drool, but Rissa couldn’t even form a thought as he drank in the absolutely gorgeous tall man he’d accidentally careened into. If there were angels in existence they would be singing in the background as this heavenly piece of man-flesh deigned the very city of London with his presence. Another squeak slipped from Rissa’s mouth and he slapped a hand over his lips to cover it up. <p>

<i> Shit. </i>Shite. <i>Please, god of momes, tell me this poor beautiful man is unharmed by my thoughtlessness!</i> Now, if only he could figure out how words worked again. Yeah, that’d be nice.

Imma code this when I get home with coffee <3
Jun 28 2014, 10:00 PM
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Rissa loves weddings. Whether he's watching them on the tevvy...timmy? Telly! The telly or actually attending one, it doesn't matter. They always put a smile on his face--then again what doesn't? Sweet boy, he spent most of the wedding dashing between friends and drinking, clicking around like a scarecrow transvestite on eight inch heels. A giant glittering praying mantis. An abnormally tall, flat chested woman in a skimpy dress.
So many insults, so little time. <p>

Delicate champagne flute clasped between slender fingers, nails a glittery pink to match his eyeshadow, Rissa ogled his lovely lady friend Ruby across the table. <b>"Sweetie, your glass is getting low. I'll get you a fresh one."</b> He tapped her knuckles and smiled, launching onto his death-defying heels and gliding across the dance floor. He got stuck a few feet in--people assumed because he was a waif of a man he could slip through crowds easy peasy. Not so much. Rather, people liked to get underfoot and make obstructions out of themselves. By the time he brought back two fresh drinks - Ruby's a beautiful, red cocktail called a "Bloody Mary" - at least ten minutes had passed.
And Ruby became quite masculine; bulging biceps, shirt much too tight over daunting pectorals...full head of blond hair. The deadly blue eyes sealed the deal. Either Ruby just transformed into one unbelievably sexy man or she'd left. Rissa paused next to the table, staring at his seat beside tall, pale, and sexy. Should he--was he supposed to--human etiquette(or humanoid wonderlanders) was such a foreign concept for him even after five years. What to do? Glittery peach lips pursed. Long lashes fluttered. Oh, well.<p>

No matter how gracefully he could walk, sitting down was another matter. He was a pile of sticks as you know, trying to fold his appendages only worked so much. With a flump he dropped into the cushioned chaise and set down his champagne. <b>"Hello there. You look like you could use a drink."</b> One corner of his shimmering lips quirked.<b> "You've met Mary, I presume?"</b> He slid the Bloody Mary to his new friend - Rissa developed bonds with pretty much anyone he laid his eyes on - and laced his fingers, chin atop their knuckle bridge.
"I'm Idris. Mome, not that anyone bothers to ask anymore." He clicked his tongue, tilting his head. "Drink up now. Nice, handsome young men don't waste alcohol do they?"<p>

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and you'll be lost

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Jun 21 2014, 09:28 PM
Idris is a beautiful free spirit and a Mome Rath. He spent most of his existence one tiny insignificant cog in an enormous living, breathing mechanism. I have this idea that momes really don't know who they belong to(at least Rissa doesn't). Even other momes who are all technically related make him feel a bit out of place now that he has a human skin. He plays it off as though he has no attachment to anyone and likes it that way but it kills him inside not to belong anymore.

SO. I decided it would be fun to put a few more people into his life that matter. The pbs are negotiable. If you have any other ideas I'm completely open! He's gift-wrapped in pink ribbons and gold wrapping paper ALL YOURS TO PLAY WITH AS YOU SEE FIT.

Ahem. Anyway.


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<p><i>pb::Agyness Deyn</i><p>
Her name is up to you. She is one of those loud, feisty girls who have no problem saying the first thing on their mind and not bothering to wonder if it comes off insulting. She's also attached at the hip to Idris. She's his self-proclaimed big sister – even though none of the momes really know who is related and how – and would protect him to the ends of the earth. She's a very grounded person, reeling Rissa in when he goes too far and dragging him off the lap of every unruly man Rissa shouldn't flirt with. <p>

I mostly want someone who loves Rissa unconditionally like family, he really needs that sort of anchor in his life. Anything else is your choice and I'd absolutely love to hear any plot ideas!



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<p><i>pb::shiloh fernandez</i><p>
_____ doesn't have a choice when it comes to Idris' attention. Maybe it's because ____ constantly rejects his advances for companionship that Rissa is driven to cling an exorbitant amount to this poor man. He can be any species you like. He prefers to keep to himself if given the choice. And he hates PDA. Which means, of course, Idris likes to climb on him and kiss his face and act childish. It's a bad habit but he can't help himself. <p>

I'd be delighted whatever direction this relationship takes. Whether ___ hates him with a passion but can't seem to get rid of Rissa or ends up harboring a soft spot for the glittery girly-boy, this critically acclaimed writer could wish for Rissa's mouth to fall off and we'd still love him. Mostly I like the idea that someone is so irked by Rissa as a whole they would rather hide out under a table than share a cup of coffee in public. <p>

But then I'm a bit mean to my darling characters.



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<p><i>pb::Simon Nessman</i><p>
No one knows how these two met. There are rumors it was a raucous party and Rissa shoved his tongue down __'s throat, and another claiming __ threw a martini at Idris because he didn't like the color of the dress. Both could have happened in the same night. <p>

No matter how it happened, their love is undeniable. <p>

Not that they confirm or deny the rumors about a romantic inclination. Sometimes they're seen making out, other days __ is escorting a half naked woman from his flat with a kiss and a phone number exchange. If any tryst holds true, we've yet to figure it out.<p>

Basically, these two are way too close. A bit superficial with each other at times, truth be told. No feelings are expected between them. An agreement was made day one that they'd have as much fun as they want and never worry about those pesky things called feelings. Rissa prefers it that way, though it's hard to tell which one is in denial or if platonic sex friends <i>actually work</i>. They have no filter between them, no shame, and no problem blowing the other one off just because Rissa's nails haven't dried – or, god forbid, __ has another hair appointment. <p>

I'm delighted to have any sort of plot between the two. Whether one realizes he's in love and has to suffer an unrequited heartbreak or they suddenly fall in love, I'm not picky. I'm even fine if they stay friends for eternity. But it would be fun, wouldn't it? (;



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pb::Frida Gustavsson<p>

Idris dotes on her. He thinks she's a ball of cute, cuddly sweetness wrapped up in cotton candy and bows. <p>

Except she isn't as sweet and innocent as she seems. Idris is a very bad influence to most people and he has absolutely no dignity whatsoever. But when it comes to _____, he tries to protect her probably nonexistent innocence at all costs. Maybe he wishes to fix his mistakes in her or maybe he hates the idea of some gross man putting grubby paws all over her cute dresses, he's not too certain. But he dotes on her and she loves him oodles – even though he's a pain in the arse and has a habit of threatening her boyfriends. Or girlfriends. She's not picky. <p>

I coo at the protective instincts and wayward antics to cherish her “innocence”. She can be whatever you choose, though it would be adorable if she's also a mome. Take her darling innocent face and you shall have my undying devotion! And Rissa's for that matter...



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Jun 9 2014, 05:16 PM
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It was an off day for Idris. First, it was raining when he arrived on the other side of the glass. His dress was <i>not</i> made for damp weather; ironic since he bought it in London. Bright magenta with a gold belt, he made one hell of a walking poster board for drowning victims. Soaked through, dress clinging to his thighs in sticky masses, Rissa did not a happy boy make.<P>

And then there was Jenna. Who he loved and feared. Who also refused to give him a credit card for hid shopping spree and instead handed him hundred pounds. That wouldn't go nearly far enough for his taste! He pouted even as he walked, mountain of a girlie man in six inch heels--as if being six-one naturally wasn't enough of a strange height for a man who could fall over from a particularly grumpy breeze.
A soaking wet, broke, sexually baffling enigma in the middle of Oxford street. Bustling with tourists and girls with higher credit card debts than Rissa himself, it was a hodge podge of activity. Idris whined in the back of his throat, twisting from one direction to another. Where to shop? What to buy? A coat would be the best course of action but the sun already peered through the wispy clouds. Shoes? No.he couldn't buy such cheap knockoffs.<p>

What to do?

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autumn leaves has been skinned exclusively for far beyond the looking glass by asya.
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