dulcissimosagna

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” Oh. I suppose so. ”                                         She is having difficulty containing herself.                                         She is biting her tongue, trying hard not                                         to sound whiny or childish, but -- ” But everyone loves Christmas, Miss Vega.    Why don't you come out just for a little  It would mean a great deal to me if

          “—-Not really, no. I never celebrate it.

           Am I allowed to stay in my room?”

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” B--but it's Christmas Miss Vega.     Aren't you the least bit excited? ”

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Silent for a long beat, blinking up at the crying woman, debating whether or not to tell her the truth, or to avoid it. She knows that the truth makes people uncomfortable. No one knows how to react when she says she doesn't have a mother anymore; that hers died before she can even remember.                                                                      But she learned in Sunday School that                                   one must always be truthful if they hope                                   to enter God's Kingdom. So her gaze falls                                   to the floor as she admits, shame-facedly,                                   "My mother died. I'm waiting for my Aunt.                                    And my cousin, Molly."  Words are so very hard for her, but she stares back up at the woman with determination in her  cherubic face. "It will be okay," she nods and  places her hand over the blonde's, holding it as best she can.

Jude stepped out into the waiting room, her head hung as she wiped away at the tears. She couldn't go home, not like this. She needed to pull herself together first. She took a seat in the nearest chair, only noticing the small child in the seat next to her as she tried to dry her face. "Oh, I'm sorry."

                        Mary Eunice watches the woman carefully — the frantic way she wipes at the tears that streak her cheeks. It makes her chest tight to see someone so sad. Mary chews nervously down on her lip, deliberating for a moment. She’s not supposed to talk to strangers, and she’s always found it hard to talk to people, but she can’t help but feel that she needs to make the woman feel better. “What’s wrong? Why are you sad?” She sounds a little as if she might cry herself. 

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Pale, thin fingers weave through the wire mesh of the window and Mary's eyes fall shut as she presses her head to the cool metal of the door. She inhales deeply and it feels like the first real breath she's taken in months. Just the sound of Lena's voice is a comfort these days.                          Mary doesn't have a clue what this                         means, and never thinks to question                         it. Simple girl that she is, she knows                         only that Lena soothes her upset &                         offers a comfort and kindness she'd                         never even dared to dream of. She                          doesn't care to know much else. "Everything's fine," she breathes against the door,  her voice not rising above a whisper. "I'm sorry." She raises her head and peers through the window at Lena, "I just--I just had a dream. A bad dream. I'm sorry-- I shouldn't have woken you. I don't know why I -- I'm sorry, Lena."

     She almost believes that the voice coming from the darkness 

     is a dream— a hallucination of some sort, She slowly sits up,      pushing dark hair away from her face as tired eyes gaze towards the metal door.

      It takes her a moment to stand up and slowly move forwards to the source,                 finding Mary out of her uniform. The sight of the woman alone made her       swallow thickly, bringing herself as close to the door as she could, still unsure if       this was just another dream that starred the blonde nun.

                  “Hey,” She begins, looking past Mary and down the hallway                    to the best of her ability, hoping that nobody could see her.                    As scary as this place could be, Lena’s biggest fear was Mary                    being in trouble. But her gaze falls on the blonde again, nearly                    getting lost along ivory features and wide, blue eyes. When she speaks,                     her whisper is brimmed with concern.

                 ”Is everything okay?”

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Inside The Actor's Studio Edition.

So the purpose of this meme is to give a little info on your muses without having to rely on others to fill your ask with meme questions. I know how disappointing it can be to come back to an empty ask so I wanted to create a meme that anyone and everyone can do (mun and muse). The rules are simple, you do not need to be tagged to fill out the questions, but once you have you must reblog and tag 10 of your followers to spread the love (as well as add a question of your own to the bonus section). You can fill it out as many times as your heart desires (we all know muses can change with their character development.)

10 Questions:

1. What is your favorite word?:  "Hope."

2. What is your least favorite word?: ”Shatter.”

3. What turns you on?: ”Kindness” 

4. What turns you off?: ”Cruelty.”

5. What sound do you love?: “Children laughing.” 

6. What sound do you hate?: "The sound of suffering." 

7. What is your favorite curse word?: "I don't have a favorite curse word."

8. What profession other than yours would you like to attempt?: "I'd have so liked to be a schoolteacher." 

9. What profession would you not like to do?: ”I don't think I'd like to do anything where people had too look at me, or pay a lot of attention to me for too long. Something like an actress. I could never do that.”

10. If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates?: ”That He was proud of the work that I had done on Earth -- and that in His kingdom, I would be loved.“

Bonus Questions:

1. Something most people don’t know about you?: "I won the District Spelling Bee in the sixth grade. I might have gone to the Nationals, but we needed a chaperone, and my Aunt Celeste didn't want to take me." 

2. If you were one of the seven sins which would you be?: "Envy." 

3. What are some notable merits and flaws?: "I suppose I do my best to be kind, and I work very hard. But, I'm not very smart. And I'm not particularly good at anything."

4. Sexual Preference?: “I don't...I don't think much about it.” 

5. What position do they sleep in?: "I like to sleep on my back. Or on my stomach, sometimes." 

6. Favorite color?: "Yellow."

7. Most important person to you? "My mother."

10 Things You Didn't Know About The Muse.

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"It will pass, Sister. It's all right." Hushed, and coaxing, she works to keep any trace of panic from sullying her lineaments, even as she tightens her grip on Jude's hand. She must be strong for Jude now. It won't do the elder any good if Mary goes all to pieces just when she needs her the most. Quickly, she runs her eyes along her mother's anguished frame, draped in her ill-fitting nightgown and fights the frown that threatens. Mary's hand returns to Jude's forehead -- she's burning with fever and it terrifies the young nun -- and rubs a gentle circle with great tenderness.  It's hard to draw breath for all her worry, but she does. She even manages a weak smile as she speaks, in case Jude should open her eyes. "Try to  focus on something else -- tell me your favorite memory." 

"Just hold on. You're gonna be fine..."

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❀~†~❀

      Jude was almost positive that Arden had poisoned her. There was a dull pain spreading through out her body, yet her mind was too hazed over for her to really notice. Her glazed over eyes moved to look up to the younger nun as she forced a smile. Even now she knew it would be better to not cause her to panic. “Of course,” she weakly told her as she reached out to grab her hand. 

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                       Bare feet whisper over on the            concrete with small, hesitant             steps as the young nun creeps            down the hall in her nightgown. It's terribly inappropriate for little Mary to be out of her room, so late. Nearly as inappropriate as her  destination.               She halts outside the metal               cell door, and whispers through               the barred window -- "Lena? Are you awake?" 

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✞— ;; A thumb smooths over the back of the elder's aged hand, and Mary Eunice nods reassuringly, reaching with her free hand to gently stroke a few locks of blonde hair -- curling in wild disarray -- from Sister Jude's face.                                                                       ❝Help is on its way, Sister❞ The ambulance she'd called should only be a few minutes more, now. Perhaps, Jude would be angry at her later, for calling a hospital instead of taking her to  the infirmary, but in the event of such an emergency, Mary Eunice could hardly trust the nurses of Briarcliff with her mother's life. 

"Just hold on. You're gonna be fine..."

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❀~†~❀

      Jude was almost positive that Arden had poisoned her. There was a dull pain spreading through out her body, yet her mind was too hazed over for her to really notice. Her glazed over eyes moved to look up to the younger nun as she forced a smile. Even now she knew it would be better to not cause her to panic. “Of course,” she weakly told her as she reached out to grab her hand. 

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I'm going to revamp Mary eventually but in the meanwhile, you can follow me here, at my new OC and we can plot and stuff and you can all be in my life again and it would give me real case of the happies. Okay? Okay. 

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; so i hear i've been replaced.

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whispers hello into the abyss 

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Jude stepped out into the waiting room, her head hung as she wiped away at the tears. She couldn't go home, not like this. She needed to pull herself together first. She took a seat in the nearest chair, only noticing the small child in the seat next to her as she tried to dry her face. "Oh, I'm sorry."

                        Mary Eunice watches the woman carefully — the frantic way she wipes at the tears that streak her cheeks. It makes her chest tight to see someone so sad. Mary chews nervously down on her lip, deliberating for a moment. She’s not supposed to talk to strangers, and she’s always found it hard to talk to people, but she can’t help but feel that she needs to make the woman feel better. “What’s wrong? Why are you sad?” She sounds a little as if she might cry herself. 

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buahahaha scout made me a valentine's icon buahaha 

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whispers that i will be here for the rest of the day probably 

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❝ It’s nothing, Miss Winters — — 

                         I just meant that it was nice to see you smiling for once. That’s all. ❞

“I like when you smile.”

                “Your jokes are getting worse, Sister.” 

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       Oh, dear.                    It seems you've caught her at an inopportune moment.                                                                                   ❝ Oh ---  It's -- It's all r -- right. ❞

[ + ] dulcissimosagna

[dulcissimosagna]

❝ I have; I've been wonderful -- How have you been?                                                        Oh, it has been a long time, hasn't it? ❞   It's been nearly a month and a half, but Mary Eunice won't say so. Somehow it seems terribly inappropriate that she should know the exact date of their last meeting off the top of her head.                        ❝ Mister Naussman just hasn't had very much business here lately. ❞

          “I trust that you have been well? It has been some time since you have passed through Building 30.”