HM THEMES

carxmia:

█▐█▐ ;; { ✝ } ;;——

     ——❝Morticia’s sister,
            surprisingly… ❞

              ❝Perhaps I should thank
              God that my wife has no
              siblings, then.❞

via · source

janebanks:

      [ the girl is still incredulous ]

    “Then how am I supposed to know if I’m growing or not?”

image

       His head comes to a cant,
       his demeanor thoughtful.

              ❝Your garments shall
              begin to fit poorly.❞

tagged: , janebanks, chat, v; limbo

carxmia:

█▐█▐ ;; { ✝ } ;;——

     ——❝The most abysmal creature I’ve ever seen. ❞

              ❝Ah, I see. Is she of your kin
              or your wife’s, may I ask?❞

image

drainedred:

              ❝              ❞

                                     Silent ;  as she thinks over the
                                     circumstance, she ignores the
                                     question   asked   completely;
                                     Unexpected,       as she utters,

              ❝ You should, you know
              like;     call   them   over
              sometime.  For fun.      ❞

image

       Topaz orbs narrow to slight slits in
       the face of Marceline’s ambiguity.
       His raven eyebrows do too crease
       toward one another in suspicion.

              ❝Now, Marceline. What sort of
              fun do you mean? If you have
              an ulterior motive, I would like
              to know it.❞

tagged: , drainedred, chat, v; main

carxmia:

█▐█▐ ;; { ✝ } ;;——

     ——❝Aunt Ophelia is coming to visit,

       —————-I’ll see you all in about three weeks. 

image

              ❝Is she so dreadful, señor?❞

MUSTACHE GAME UNSTOPPABLE

tagged: , ooc, get away from me

janebanks:

      [ the girl’s eyes widen at the revelation, and she looks around her body for a moment. Her arm, her feet, her hair…but then she paused, furrowing her brow ]

    “I don’t feel like I’m getting bigger.”

       His demeanor is once again cast in
       his habitual sternness; howbeit, his
       gaze remains fraught with a gentle
       amusement at her artless antics.

              ❝Of course not. It is a gradual
              thing, mija. I would be deeply
              concerned if you could feel it.❞

tagged: , janebanks, chat, v; limbo

evessence:

      It isn’t her fault, you know. Being a daughter of noble blood instantly places you under the spoiled rotten category, even before anyone took the time to know you. It doesn’t make matters better that her father isolates her to the point where she has no life outside her property walls.

      That was just who her father was. He protected her even when protection wasn’t always needed. But this was only because he knew of what she was capable of, and he was afraid that the world would reject her.

      She wasn’t always like this… didn’t always hear every thought of every human being around her, didn’t always see the color spectrum’s that surrounded anything with a beating heart. It was the fire—— the fire turned her into this.

      The fire also claimed the life of both her mother and her sister. How she survived… was unknown. Those flames still familiar on her skin… oh, it was a knife in her heart just thinking about it.

      But being locked away from the world, there wasn’t much to do besides think. You have all this wasted time… how could anyone not spend it thinking of what once was? However, she always found comfort with that hole in the ground, located within the center of her property.

      And that was all it was, just a deep meaningless hole in the ground. A well. Something that offers a thing all humans need, and yet it is just as deadly. But she loved to look down, get lost in the darkness, dropping stone after stone.

      It was lonely, and empty. The silence was louder than any sound she would hear.

image

       Loneliness, emptiness; these were depraved forces which had been masticating away at his battered soul for nearly three hundred years. For lack of a beating heart and blood of his own, his state was dead, and dead was how he felt since he awoke to this low and somber existence. Misguided, too, was he, and he had yet to fathom the fact; revelation was on the horizon, but not come quite yet. Eleazar believed so firmly that his unrelenting service to law and order would be the cure to his misery, yet here he was, steeped in his woes as he carried out the mission to which all of his supposed life and devotion was thrust. Namely, searching for gifts with which to populate an already infallible guard; something which he had questioned only once in the distant past, and thus a pondering which Lord Aro had perished with remarkable ease. Eleazar was naught but clay in his masters’ hands, but he was not yet equipped to understand this beyond the barriers of his oft-forsaken subconscious.

       His demeanor was stony and stoic as he migrated through all cities in search of promise. Stony and stoic, that was, until he stumbled across that for which he scoured the globe: potential. Great potential, in truth, but judging solely by the vagueness of his read, his subject was human. How preposterous! Dismal thoughts were forgotten in favor of hypothesis, and Eleazar set off in the direction of his find. Telepathic, psychometric, aura sensitive… and merely mortal! He could only imagine what vampirism would unearth in a powerful psyche such as hers. Hers, certainly—he was at a short enough range (which was rather far) to smell her, although he did so sparingly. His thirst was augmenting by the second.

       His subject’s alluring fragrance led him to a manor, opulent and secluded, where she stood plainly before a well, her lowered gaze notably forlorn. With these cues, he concocted proposals to make regarding her potential annexation into the elite Volturi guard without forthrightly stating the consequences of such a decision. (After all, it was not his intention to force his bite upon any human who did not wish for it.) Well trained in the art of muffling his thoughts, a melody played in the walls of his mind to perhaps distract, and he emerged beside her, shrouded in a raven cloak to shadow his flesh from the sun and his crimson eyes from apparent sight. His tone was soft and even in the hope to prevent a fright on her part, and he uttered the following: “May I have a word, mi dama?”

image

via · source

dxnali:

       “You are and old man, and I am
       and old woman! Do you not see
       the gray emerging from my curls?
       It is from dealing with you, though
       I must credit Katrina for some of it
       as well.”

              Her spoken thoughts trail and end on a lighter
              note, as her volume trickles down. There is no
              gray, of course! Her age defies what is natural
              for her very being quite the opposite. The woman
              gently moves her hair from blocking her features,
              and then reaches for her husband’s hand for their
              fingers to interlace again. Truly the paintings will
              remind them of days gone by, and as her eyes see
              one of the few from a Spaniard, her longing for her
              (their— is it not?) homeland grows.

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       Just as she is, he is mindful of the volume of
       his voice the moment they enter the museum,
       and his returning chortles are thusly subdued
       to a marginal degree, as they are seldom very
       cacophonous in the first place. As usual, she
       has a flair for the dramatic; as usual, Eleazar
       finds it immensely charming. His hold of her
       hand tightens in its firm grip as their languid
       stroll transpires, eyes sweeping over various
       masterpieces with reverent admiration even
       as they both blather under their breath. His
       empty hand rises and long digits interweave
       with said imperfect hair as they tuck brown,
       not gray, curls behind her ear.

              ❝You can’t possibly be faulting me for
              nature’s progression. We live, we fade,
              and we die. I am not to blame for your
              utterly imperfect hair.❞

tagged: , dxnali, chat, v; main

janebanks:

      [ she looks at him, confused, for a moment ]

    “…my parents are tall. Why aren’t I tall, then?”

image

              ❝Because you are a child. You
              will grow with time. In fact, you
              are likely growing as we speak.
              I am not because I am an adult.❞

tagged: , janebanks, chat, v; limbo
 
   
If you could take your coven and move elsewhere, where would you go?
 
QUOTH Anonymous

              Why, Spain! Where else would I go? Carmen and I are nostalgic far too often. That said, I fear we would all grow nostalgic for Denali after a time. It is my home as much as Spain is. Perhaps more so, given that I have lived in Spain for a mere thirty-four years in contrast with Denali’s two centuries.

 
tagged: , asked, anonymous

xpoppins:

▉☂—— ;;

     ⌈gentle hand shake and bright smile;
      she returns his kind gesture

     ❛ eleazar? quite a lovely name. fitting
         for  someone  with  such  remarkable
         manners, may i say. ❜

image

              ❝Who am I to reject flattery?❞

       His returning shake is firm, but not
       too firm, and his hand withdraws a
       moment later to return to his side.

              ❝I must thank you for your
              earlier concern, Ms. Poppins.❞

tagged: , xpoppins, chat, v; limbo

janebanks:

      [ She offers a slight, shy smile as she realizes how untoward her outburst had been. But, of course, her nature doesn’t allow her to stop now ]

    “How do you get to be so tall?”

              ❝Well, you see, my father was a
              tall man. Therefore, so am I.❞

       While he could explain rudimentary
       genetics, children have no patience
       for such clinical matters as those.

tagged: , janebanks, chat, v; limbo

janebanks:

“You’re really t a l l!”

    [ she can really think of nothing better to say ]

image

       Naturally, this abrupt exclamation
       elicits his mirth, reflected in a wide
       smirk and a quirk of his eyebrows.

                       ❝Mm. I suppose I am!❞