susan-gampre

[susan-gampre]

[susan-gampre]

Is there a fantasy out there that you have not experienced? If so, can I get a hint?

The Madam does fantasize. Day dreams... Like anyone with a conscious. They can be so very sweet, like memories of her family... Events in her life which she cherished often involved her siblings or her children. Some dreams were painful playings of a time long ago with an old love. Before her abduction, before his death. Those she tried to avoid. Other dreams consisted of indecent acts that are polite to not discuss. Things which she longed for, things which she wanted to try... But the current theme of her day dreams? Complete, precise acts of absolute violence.

She sees herself at war, literally and figuratively in current day to day life; There is much Susan expects to make right in the coming year and commits herself to these changes through hard training. Thus her day dreams are ways to keep her body primed. Susan usually sees herself in the middle of it all, strategies played by a composer with a penchant for harrowing experiences. Susan had been preparing years, perfecting ways to overpower enemies that could overpower her. She seeks to never feel at the mercy of someone else.

Which... Being in the lower 5 feet heightwise, it didn't take much to have the upperhand with the Madam when she originally was a mere socialite -- Smooching with the celebrities of the early twenties ADP, buddied up with gangsters and gossip. She hasn't made much of a name for herself yet in this new age. Yet to be seen.

~

Day dreaming about power in general too... It isn't all murder hoboing entirely. Danke schon anon!

[susan-gampre]

Jeanette Winterson, from "Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal," publ. in 2011

[susan-gampre]

Is there a fantasy out there that you have not experienced? If so, can I get a hint?

The Madam does fantasize. Day dreams... Like anyone with a conscious. They can be so very sweet, like memories of her family... Events in her life which she cherished often involved her siblings or her children. Some dreams were painful playings of a time long ago with an old love. Before her abduction, before his death. Those she tried to avoid. Other dreams consisted of indecent acts that are polite to not discuss. Things which she longed for, things which she wanted to try... But the current theme of her day dreams? Complete, precise acts of absolute violence.

She sees herself at war, literally and figuratively in current day to day life; There is much Susan expects to make right in the coming year and commits herself to these changes through hard training. Thus her day dreams are ways to keep her body primed. Susan usually sees herself in the middle of it all, strategies played by a composer with a penchant for harrowing experiences. Susan had been preparing years, perfecting ways to overpower enemies that could overpower her. She seeks to never feel at the mercy of someone else.

Which... Being in the lower 5 feet heightwise, it didn't take much to have the upperhand with the Madam when she originally was a mere socialite -- Smooching with the celebrities of the early twenties ADP, buddied up with gangsters and gossip. She hasn't made much of a name for herself yet in this new age. Yet to be seen.

~

Day dreaming about power in general too... It isn't all murder hoboing entirely. Danke schon anon!

[susan-gampre]

"You were recently asked to give someone a reason to trust you. I would like to know what's a good reason you'd tell someone not to."

Those dreadful golden eyes held up to their infamy, the same exact wildanimal gaze that her companion tiger reportedly has. Her stare was pointed directly at the speaker, that tenacity in her gaze flickered like flames... Burning with passion. Wordlessly the Madam would point a stiletto'd nail and gesture toward the Sister's in Sin, the golden bangles of her wrist tinkling together as metal bumped metal. With an incline of her head she turns that hard stare toward the tall, proudly standing building with an unreadable expression.

"Everything that stands for... Everyone inside of that building or associated with the tidings related to the Sister's in Sin are to be protected at all costs."

The declaration was spoken firmly and with intention, the Madam's gaze turning back to the speaker as she follows up, her chin poking outward whilst her posture straightens:

"People may say what they will about morality, but that brothel stands for peace among beings. No truer location is neutral, war and violence has no place in our world once you step within that threshold; A sanctuary to the poor and rich. I offer my warnings only once: You cannot trust me because I will never truly trust you. If you disturb our peace, you're my enemy. I'd hunt you to the stars and back."

~

Thank you kindly for the thought provoking ask! @dinthoqaf

[susan-gampre]

Madam-esque

Playboy Magazine (July 1972)

[susan-gampre]

lasting memory: Dignity of a Traveler Part 1

The even dance of string on string bore a haunting melody which ricocheted off the high ceilings; It's song reverberating deep in the thorax of every individual living and dead. The deep brown wooden beams and pillars which carried structure of the room offered a beautiful magnification to the chords at play. People watched on in silence, the usual back chatter of excited minds exploring the depths of this free space minimized to hushed whispers... And even then, the whispers all carried a similar tone of awe. Murmuring mouth to ear of the splendor.

The lights dancing overhead offered a shimmering effect behind the cellist, the small mustered stage crew making it with great effort to resemble twinkling lights against the black background and her figure. Her silhouette was dimmed only slightly; At her behest she sought, specifically, to be dimmed enough that the music would be the loudest performer for this last night.

Music always spoke where words could not express. Esme had made sure it would be front and center to encapture the audience in emotional turmoil. She played with deliberate strokes, her left hand making work of each string as her right played the melody of her farewell. The patrons were transfixed on the woman center stage of the Brothel's grand room; Including the Madam.

She watched on with an expression mixed with both grief and appease-- It was a peculiar face mixed with concern for what awaited the performer's future, but the pride of knowing it was Esme's decision after all quelled the twisting of her gut. She was a smart girl, Susan had to trust she'd continue to be smart leaving here. It was the good natured aspect of her that made Esme seem so naive. But debts were nearing full payment between Sue and the young runaway, and it was growing near time that Esme would be moving on from the Sisters in Sin with a life full of bright horizons before her. Still. Susan felt it necessary to speak to the girl before morning.

As Susan understood it, this would be the last night Esme earned her keep and paid her debts in a timely matter to the Madam -- No longer would Sue have a prime example to put on display to the other whore's of the SiS company on what a good standings employee looked like. The thought of the playful nature of she and the whores brought a slight smile to her troubled facade, many good memories had been collected over the years with them all... Not a bad head on anyone's shoulders, all particularly decent men and women with better intentions and absolute shit luck. But there was a nature to Esme that incited the best in people... Susan knew, above anything else, she would miss the empathetic traveler.

A bittersweet celebration was unofficially to be conducted tonight following the final performer of the evening: Esme Erynn, only to celebrate the woman herself for her departure which was at a time that no one truly knew, in all honesty. While they'd spoken of the details regarding final payments - and the transfer of her funds - the topic of what Esme had planned following her final day of work was an unanswered one. And Susan was never one to pry. Gods understood her hatred for prying.

With this notion she'd turn to her assistant of the evening, a squirrely and hyper young man who, upon the quietly exchanged request, would bow his head and turn to scurry through the curtains separating her balcony view from the hallway. He'd glance briefly to the other curtained off seats and private suites before bolting down the steps leading to the main floor. With a startle to the guards at the bottom of the steps, of which the curly haired fellow would express genuine apology, the fellow was quick to the backstage portion with Susan's message hot on his mind.

Esme's peformance was nearing it's end. Strokes became longer and infrequent, the melody of her song beginning to slow and fade as did the twinkling lights in tangent. Just as they had meticulously practiced over the weeks, the stage would dim to a point of complete darkness, leaving the young woman with her head bowed, a curtain of thick brown hair pooling into her face as she remains firmly planted to her spot. To the audience it was a young lady waiting quietly for the applause to cease, but to Susan she could see it was Esme's hesitation... Unwillingness to stand from her seat and exit left as she had every performance before. This was... A lingering. She couldn't understand why, though.

Eventually the people who came strictly with tickets for the performances would file out. An unspoken agreement between polite society and the degenerates that the performances would be the segway from day business to night business. And the night was young, those who remained stayed with a mind for the pleasures that occurred following the evening performers. It was then, as the stage lights were programmed to resume their typical settings of swaying their colorful beams to and from across the dance floor, occasionally illuminating sections around the main floor of the brothel. Patrons became alive once again, the chatter at full max as couples began to form. Then, and only then, did Esme pick her head up.

Her hair fell to her shoulders again, encasing her small face with thick tresses, her softened gaze watching on with a sense of longing in the pit of her stomach. Or was that... anxiety? She'd brush the thought away before standing, the tailored cotton dress straightening out along her figure, slippered feet turning once she picks up her instrument. A fellow worker would reach forth to help carry the cello, to which the woman graciously denies, smiling brilliantly as she explains, "This is my final walk off, I'd like to do this myself."

With this the maiden would walk off left of stage and enter the back with a deep breath, offering shy smiles as her fellow employees would move in to congratulate and compliment. She was quite meek in the exchange, ever full of humility as she politely thanked her friends. It wasn't long before she would soon express interest in seeing them at the party and explained her need to prepare -- A white lie, she wasn't ever truly going to be prepared for the end of the night but for the sake of her friends she wanted to ease away from them before her angst ate away their good moods.

It wouldn't be long before she ran into the familiar face of Susan's assistant- in fact she didn't even make it to the designated changing room.

"Esme! Wonderful playin' love," he expressed before immediately following up with, "The Madam would like a word."

Esme's stomach flipped, her heart leaping into her throat which caused a strained noise to leave her mouth -- Which caused a flash of confusion across the lad's face. She'd quickly recover, clearing her throat with a gentle beating of her fist against her chest, "S-Sorry, uh... Did she say what for, Jeth?"

His eyes widened before he'd nod, soon apologizing himself, "Awh! Pardon, I didn't realize how jaded that must've come off; Yes! She just wanted to chat, really, mentioned..," he'd pause, nose scrunching and eyes squinting as the memory of what Susan said had now faded some... Awaiting Esme's gracious decent from the stage had allowed for the fellow to get abit distracted with the whores come to meet and greet the performer. Finally he states, "Something about... Longing?"

Esme's brow would furrow before raising a hand to cease the painful watch of him trying to think about what he'd been sent here for. "No no, thats okay Jeth. I'll go see her shortly."

With this pleasantry concluded the fellow would turn tail and run back for the stairs to service his mistress; Leaving a particularly quiet Esme to continue to the changing room to put her instrument away and exchange her humble garbs for skirts and a top -- Both of which she'd slip into seamlessly, her midriff and collar bones exposed showing a belly button ring and cleavage. Otherwise, the garb would still be modest in comparison to the corsets and stockings of some of her friends as they piled in after a swift knock to the door. Esme hadn't even been able to react to the knock before they all began to coo and reach to pull the giggling woman into her chair. Poised and prepared to doll her up as they so playfully threatened before her performance, the ladies each took their cues of preparing the hair tools or combing through outfits.

A particularly cheerful blonde would grab Esme by the shoulders, giving her a playful shake while meeting her gaze in the mirror as she leans forward to say:

"Alright love... you're in good hands now, don't you go shoving us off, I sure as fuck ain't afraid to bite your hand!"

[susan-gampre]

What if…Susan had been caught up in the Third War and given ‘unlife’; how would she cope? Would she have joined with the forsaken?

Warning... It's abit wordy. But thank you for the ask, @captzexx ! It's really got the creativity flowing!

Surmising that it would be 20-21 ADP at the start of this shift in life events; Susan would have been around 16-18 years old and on the cusp of achieving her goals of rebelling and overthrowing her mother from her position as Madam. So young and full of ambition; Susan would have been absolutely devastated waking to her undeath. Like losing her innocence all over again, she'd be robbed of the near decade of life lessons and rebuilding herself from a sad mongrel half breed of a whore into the strong, powerful and (mostly) adjusted adult she is currently. With no time to organically build her fortitude would leave her a wrecked mind of sorrow, anger and shame following her awakening.

In a world which was wrought by the chaos and burning fury of the fel demons, its possible the fate of our Madam would have changed drastically from the current standards of her life. She would have lost the Brothel and all of it's people, a life shattered into fragments of what it once was, mere dreams in the dust of all it could have been.

Shaken, potent with venom and full of volatile emotion for how she was treated in life-- Susan surely would become a monster of which attacked without warning and tore the innocent and unjust alike to shreds at her whim. She'd be a shamble of a woman, desperate for some kind of normalcy after the initial frenzy blood lust would settle.

Granted, she would have been so young it's likely Sue would have learned to cope with it eventually, seeing her death and loss as an awakening or, potentially, a chance at freedom. She would have been freed of her constraints as a whore, never facing the true hardships that would come with owning a brothel; Only victim to the nightmares of being so young, brought up and used by her mother as a pawn.

I like to imagine she'd retreat to the woods... Become a hermit, a keeper of the woods in a way. A little bag of rotten flesh and animated bone who would find her purpose in alchemy (poison? tinctures to be sold to the living?) and nature, living alongside the organisms which interconnect the fabrics of an ecosystem.

Sitting here imagining it I'd like to think the traumatic event of her death and awakening might even trigger a kind of magic inside of her, something fortuitous like the gift of oracle sight or along those lines.

More or less... An undead Susan would have been so lonely, but probably much more at peace once she came to terms with eveyrthing!

[susan-gampre]

OC's available:

@rickiedevron @lysandra-vanburen @haela-balcyan

Anon-Day!

~ Ask my my character anything you want ~ Confess something you would never say to my their face ~ Send them an anonymous letter ~ Give them unsolicited advice you think they need ~ Tell them one thing you like about them ~ Tell them one thing you hate about them ~ Tell them your favorite memory of them

Anything is welcomed on Anon-Day, as long as it’s on anon!

[susan-gampre]

from @modelofrunway on ig .

[susan-gampre]

Weds Ask:

Only a divine mind can run a business such as yours. How did you decide that this was a pathway you desired to take through life?

Haunted eyes watched the meandering of individuals at the heart of the brothel, the scantly clad and the casually clothed mingled together in a harmonious fashion. The air amongst them was light and unburdened, drinks flowing and meals being shared in small or large fashion. The bar was bustling, waitresses and waiters managed through the crowds -- Grins, laughter, rowdy chatter was everywhere in every direction. The smoke lounge, tucked away in a corner with stairs leading down to the basement had tendrils of purplish smoke twisting outward from behind the crystal curtains of the open doorway...

People danced in roguish, inappropriate fashion while others waltzed together slowly, multiple eyes around the area sharing in loving, hungry or passionate stares -- The music rounding out the night was softer in tune, the chosen live entertainment a violinist. A whore under Susan's regime, actually; A young maiden of fulgent smiles, her tall lithe figure swaying to and fro as her fingers jumped between strings in fluid motion.

She held the Madam's gaze momentarily, the young matching the burdened stare of the wizened. Eventually Esme would turn, resuming her performance.

To Susan, the mood this evening felt much more melancholy than usual... A heaviness to it. Others clearly had a peppier tone to their nights, but the Madam seemed weighed.

"So... How did you decide this was the life path you wanted?"

Susan glances over her shoulder briefly before looking forward to take in the magnificence of the building and it's patrons. The years began to play before her eyes, all the events that occurred within these sturdy walls. All the wars, the love... The hours and sweat poured into maintaining the business, the blood spilled to protect it... She'd shake her head briefly, brown curls shimmering in the dance light, "I didn't choose this," she says firmly. Her hands would reach forward to grip the tops of the banister, clutching at the wood to steady herself as she then adds, "It was chosen for me."

Momentarily she was reminded that her history would no longer be truly known by all -- her inactivity of pushing parties and mingling with the socialites had put her out of the eye of society. Partially... She felt the relief of it, but another part of that loss of infamy sent a pang through her chest. The realization was that the assault on her innocence would be for not if it were forgotten...

"This business was... A family business, of sorts," she concedes, turning around to lean her elbows atop the banister now, her eyes taking in the inquirer with a careful glance over before continuing, "The kind where if I didn't take it upon myself and make some dire changes to the structure and vision, it would be the same old bitches taking advantage of the exploitable. This business I wouldn't trust anyone else to take on, too many lives were lost when I was brought up with people being indentured to corrupt, greedy whores. My mother, to clarify. It's as simple as that."

Thank you! @nahisummerhold

Briefly mentioned: @esme-erynn

[susan-gampre]

‘W’ednesday Asks!

~ What if… - Ask my OC ‘what if’ questions ~ Wonderful - Tell my OC what makes them wonderful ~ WTF - Ask/tell my OC something that would get a WTF reaction ~ Whoops - Accidentally send my OC a message/letter that was never supposed to be sent ~ Who/what/when/where/why - Ask my OC anything you want!

ANON IS ON!

Don’t be ‘that person’, practice good question/reblog karma!

[susan-gampre]

Nude at the Window by Paul Paede (1913)

[susan-gampre]

THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF / LE PACTE DES LOUPS (2001)

Monica Bellucci as Sylvia

[susan-gampre]

Reblog if you don’t mind random inbox starters that aren’t memes

[susan-gampre]

— Jay Vespertine

Text ID: “Maybe in a parallel universe i was not betrayed so poetically.”

[susan-gampre]

— Franz Kafka, Letters to Felice