colloque-sentiment

[colloque-sentiment]

sorrowmarked·:

Hard to imagine Spike as a lamb. Oh, Julia could put stars in her eyes for him. Think of him as a lover, and a poet. Charming, quick witted, clever and cunning Odysseus – but a lamb? Never. Same as she could never be Mary. To sharp, too hard, never innocent herself.

More like a coyote, split from her mate.

She didn’t say any of that though. Didn’t explain that she hadn’t lost her lover, nor had he wandered off, but rather they’d been separated. Those weren’t details others needed while she looked for him. All they needed was a description. All they needed was to say if they had seen him or not.

“This particular lamb is about six-foot-one, wild hair, brown eyes, a cowboy. Goes by the name of Spike,” she said, “If you’ve seen him, I sure would appreciate being pointed in the direction of my lost lamb,” she said, before she took a swallow of whiskey. Cowboy, she had learned that much early on. Looked for him in every bar she sang in.

Julia met her eyes, one eyebrow curving upwards half curious. Mr. Y? “Not only did he not send me here, I have no clue who he is,” she said. Julia gestured at the now empty stage. “I’m a singer here, for about two hours a night. That’s what brings me here, and the free drinks after keep me here.”  

𝐒𝐇𝐄   𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐒   𝐀𝐓   𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓,   𝐇𝐄𝐑   𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒   𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆   at   her   choker.   Velvet.   It’s   fancy   enough   to   not   seem   like   a   binding   artefact.   Damn   Yashiki.   Humans.   She   nearly   rolls   her   eyes,   almost   mutters.   Mr.Y.   Yashiki   didn’t   send   her   here,   then.   Rosé   pauses,   still   studying   the   woman.

Interesting,   the   soul   is   as   bland   as   yesterday’s   newspaper.      

“   Mmm   –   and   here   I   thought   you’d   be   a   darling   customer.   Pity,   pity,   pity.”   She   clicks   her   tognue   and   takes   to   rearranging   her   hair,   vainity   slipping   through   her   conduct.   “Never   mind.   You   haven’t   been   here   for   too   long,   have   you?”

Indulgent?   Yes.   Necessary   ?   Very   much   so.   It   only   takes   one   look   at   her   reflection   in   a   mirror   for   people   to   turn   tail   and   flee.   Might   as   well   be   dressed   to   the   nines   while   that   happens.   Makes   it   all   the   more   satisfying   and   fun   to   watch,   no?   What   rats.   What   lambs.   One   whisper   from   the   Devil,   and   they’re   all   souls   lost   at   sea.

“Little   wonder.   A   regular   here   would   know   a   spider   when   they   see   one...”   she   trails   away,   her   tone   airy.   Lambs.   Every.   Single.   One.   “Information   has   its   costs   here,   hm.   You   want   someone   found,   you   have   to   pay.   And   who   knows?   Perhaps   I   could   find   someone   else   who’s   seen   your   lamb.”

[colloque-sentiment]

beliefruined·:

“Gatsby might edge out overHumbert Humbert,” Julia said, lifting the whiskey to her lips. “Ifonly because Daisy wasn’t a child,” she said, Gatbsy was delusional and frivolous,but Humbert was a monster. She tapped one toe of her black leather boots againstthe bottom of the bar. A tuneless percussion with a makeshift instrument. 

Herown Gatsby? “If I did, he’s going to be waiting a long, long time, becauseI didn’t realize it,” she joked. Berry colored lips pulling up in a grin.Julia was not a beautiful woman, unaware that she was beautiful. Not a womanunaware that people wanted her. But the two figures who loomed large in herlife? Neither were a Gatsby. Nor a Tom. Nor a Humbert Humbert.

“No … no my man is more anOdysseus,” she said. How apt the metaphor had become. “Clever, and cunning, andlost,” she said. As if she had misplaced him. As if they hadn’t been forcedapart.

She tapped her book against thebar, tap, tap, tap. “Men should be better lovers if they want to findlove,” she said, hers was. Hopefully, hopefully, he would find her.

“I am looking, not for love, butthe lover. Like I said, he’s lost, I wish to find him.”

𝐍𝐎𝐖,  𝐀  𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐃  𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒  𝐀𝐆𝐎  (  or  was  it  much  before  ?  )  she  might  have  had  better  things  to  do.  Partaking  in  the  occult,  for  instance.  The  last  transaction  hadn’t  ended  so  well,  had  it?  Mother  butchered,  daughter  torn  apart  limb  to  limb,  the  son  –  oooh,  the  interesting  part,  this  one.  The  son  had  been  responsible  for  both  their  deaths.  Possesion  could  be  tricky.  Immortality  trickier.

Pity.  She  did  warn  him.

Not  a  word  passes,  and  she  invites  herself  to  sit  on  the  countertop,  a  respectable  distance  maintained  between  herself  and  the  other.  Gatsby,  H.H,  cut  to  the  chase,  cut  to  the  chase.  Stilleto  heels  rap  agaisnt  wood  in  imaptience.  Starving.  Starving  for  some  unfortunate  soul  to  sink  her  nails  into,  find  some  task  to  do.

“A  Mary  who  lost  her  lamb,  hm?”  There  is  no  sympathy,  nothing  soft.  She  does  not  plan  to  fake  pity,  instead  observing  a  prospective  customer.  “Lambs  don’t  tend  to  wander  off  too  far  if  they’re  well  loved.  And  this  one  sounds  like  he  is.”

Oh,  she  could  be  cruel.  She  could  be  Miss  Nightmare.  She  could  be  the  monster  rattling  away  in  your  closet.  But  she’s  simply  curious  here.  One  nylon-wrapped  leg  is  slung  over  another.  Will  you  walk  into  my  parlour,  said  the  spider  to  the  fly.  She  has  found  more  than  a  fly  here.

“A  certain  Mr.  Y  didn’t  direct  you  to  here,  did  he?”

[colloque-sentiment]

││││  BEFORE  I  KNEW  IT,  THE  DREAM  WAS  ALL  OVER.     indie, private and selective spike spiegel, as penned by vini.

[colloque-sentiment]

"   𝐌𝐘,   𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍’𝐓   𝐖𝐄   𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋.   But   I   can   see   your   point   here.”   She   smiles   an   odd,   painted   smile,   saguinine   hues   surveying   her   companion.   Curioiser   and   curioser,   this   one   here   is   a   gold   mine   of   mysteries...and   unnautral   energy.   Fascinating,   enticing,   mystifying.  

“Unfortunately,   the   heart   we’re   looking   at   is   yet   to   be   buried   and   I   doubt   he’ll   be   forgotten   in   such   a   short   period   of   time.”

She   clicks   her   tongue,   porcelain   arms   crossing   over   her   chest.   A   figure   swathed   in   the   restless   state   of   midnight,   she   is   as   prim   as   ever,   if   a   little   dishevelled.   Not   as   dishevelled   as   the   street   is,   however,   with   the   all   too   familiar   stench   of   corruption   clinging   fast   to   her   skin   already.  

“Politicians,”   she   pursues,   her   delicate   nose   wrinkling.   “The   stuffy,   pretend   do-gooders   certainly   are   the   worst   of   the   lot.   The   shallowest   of   hearts.   Makes   you   wonder   why   they’re   treated   to   a   grave   when   we   might   as   well   burn   their   bodies.   This   one’s   lucky   to   have   gotten   any   grave   at   all.”

A   finger   taps   pale   skin,   a   trail   of   irony   dragging   through   her   poised,   refined   voice.   A   Mona   Lisa   in   the   gallery   of   con   artists   and   the   dead,   she   knows   very   well   that   she   is   no   position   to   be   passing   judgements.

“But   who   am   I   to   object   to   what   they   do?   We   all   work   for   our   own   goals   anyway.”

@the27percent​   𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭.

[colloque-sentiment]

beliefruined·:

“why that almost makes it sound romantic,” julia joked, as leaned against the counter giving a friendly smile to the bartender who handed her over a whiskey without asking her drink order. she’d been playing in this bar long enough now that the staff knew her well enough. knew what she drank, knew what she was looking for, knew who she was looking for. 

“but if he’s out of a fitzgerald novel then somewhere out there, there’s a woman who means little more than a trophy to him. maybe that’s why he can’t have love.” 

"   𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃   𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑   𝐀𝐍   𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋   –   oh,   no.   Infatuated   with   an   idea.   No   better   than   Humbert   Humbert   and   his   sick   fascination   with   ‘his   Lolita’.”

Her   perfumed   clothes   cling   to   her,   velvet   marrying   skin,   dark   spilling   from   her   form   with   a   touch   of   crimson.   Nothing   about   her   intends   to   be   dismiss-able,   oh   no.   Her   heels   tap   into   wood,   look   at   me,   look   at   me,   look   at   me.   She   remains   unrecognizable   now   (a   century   ago,   that   might   not   have   been   so   possible   ),   unknown,   unseen   if   so   she   chooses.  

“Don’t   tell   me   you’ve   had   your   very   own   Gatsby   at   some   point.”

This   woman   fascinates   her.   A   nearly-cold   observation.   She   couldn’t   care   less   about   her   history,   problems,   or   misery.   But   there   had   been   whispers   and   where   there   are   rumours,   there   are   spiders.   She   smiles;   a   red   thing,   sharp   enough   to   slip   between   ribs   and   dig   through   a   beating   heart.

Entertainment.  

“A   man   without   love   would   look   for   it,   though   I   suppose   most   of   us   are,”   she   drawls,   the   smile   never   wavering.   “And   perhaps   we   will   find...many   things.”  

[colloque-sentiment]

[colloque-sentiment]

Peaceful.

[colloque-sentiment]

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER SENTENCE STARTERS   —  quotes from season seven of the wb television series. feel free to make alterations. memes from other seasons can be found here.

peachy with a side of keen, that would be me.

will they always be afraid of me?

when you brought me here, i thought it was to kill me.

do you want to be punished?

in the end, we all are who we are, no matter how much we may appear to have changed.

have you completely lost your mind?

i dreamed of killing you. 

you feel really responsible? you are really responsible!

i know i hurt you and everyone – and i’m sorry.

wow, that was so close to being empowered.

i need to fix this.

you think i don’t care? 

i don’t have anywhere else to go.

i loved him more than i will ever love anything in this life!

at some point, someone has to draw the line and that is always going to be me! 

there has to be another way.

i can’t. i’m sorry. 

you can’t help me. i’m not even sure there’s a me to help.

hey guy, it’s called knocking.

i can’t keep having those nightmares.

i heard a lot of rumors about you back then. 

we’re gonna have to fight to the death, aren’t we?

i’m here to kill you, not to judge you.

obviously, if things were different, you’re a right catch.

i can barely live with what i did. it haunts me. 

you faced the monster inside of you and you fought back. 

you risked everything to be a better man.

do you want me to kill [name]?

man, this place gives me the creeps.

i’m really sorry for letting you down. 

i’m beyond tired. i’m beyond scared. 

we need to stick together, okay? 

we cannot afford to fall apart now.

i’m the thing that monsters have nightmares about.

next time, close the door when you take a shower at my house!

i don’t think they appreciate the gravity of what we’re undertaking. 

what, you think you have some sort of special lesbo-dar or something?

you have to stay.

i’m not ready for you not to be here.

come on, let’s get this gay show on the gay road. 

would you let it go? you’re like a dog with a bone.

you’re our leader, [name], as in “follow the.”

aside from getting rescued, what is that you do?

i provide much needed sarcasm.

for god’s sakes, [name]! you’ve been in here for 30 minutes. what are you doing?

why can’t you just masturbate like the rest of us?

are you still filming me? stop!

there’s a big fight coming, and i don’t know what’s going to happen. i don’t even think i’m going to live through it.

everything’s terrible. total catastrophe.

i’m afraid war is inevitable. 

don’t waste your time down that road.

stop hitting me! we’re on the same side.

you gotta trust her. she’s earned it.

damn, i never knew you were that cool.

is this a mission from which you intend [name] to return alive?

you sure you don’t wanna stop and pick up some burgers or something, you know, road trip food?

it’s not a road trip. it’s a covert operation.

you really do think you’re better than we are.

you didn’t earn it. you didn’t work for it. 

we were never close. you just wanted me because i was unattainable.

please, let’s not go over the past.

i’ve seen things you couldn’t imagine, and done things i prefer you didn’t.

i follow my blood, which doesn’t exactly rush in the direction of my brain. 

i’m not asking you for anything. 

when i say i love you, it’s not because i want you, or because i can’t have you. it has nothing to do with me. 

i’ve seen the best and the worst of you, and i understand, with perfect clarity, exactly what you are

i don’t want to be this good-looking and athletic. we all have crosses to bear.

how is it possible that we didn’t know any of this?

oh my god, are you twelve?

oh, please! i am so much prettier than you are.

for the record, our little encounter didn’t exactly change my world.

here’s the part where you make a choice. 

we saved the world.

i just want to sleep, yo, for like a week!

what are we going to do now?

[colloque-sentiment]

“  You  are  quite  the  fidgety  one,  aren’t  you  ?  What  is  it  then,  information  ?  Or  ...  something  less  proper  ?  ”

@swimmingbird​

[colloque-sentiment]

“𝐘𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐊𝐈-𝐒𝐀𝐍, 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐒 𝐖𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃  reconsider  our  options  here.”  Her  statement  is  crisp,  candid  and  presented  in  honeyed  tones.  Cloying  scent,  violin  string  voice  and  manicured  presence  sways  on  slender  legs  for  a  moment.  She  smiles  a  red-painted  curve,  all  too  alluring.  “Oh,  no,  it’s  Kujou-san  isn’t  it.  You  really  ought  to  stick  to  one  name,  you  know?”

But  that’s  not  quite  the  main  concern  here.

“You  do  realize  that  we’ll  have  a  run-in  the  police  soon  at  this  rate ?  Ooe-san  won’t  help  us  another  time.”

@dcpaysement​​

[colloque-sentiment]

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