#étienne musings

[cuteteacakes]

{📜} - In his defense she seems like the type to know where his charges are at any given point in time and can help locate them. She seems like a Good Bean™.

[sonnagh]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀/ tag update.

MUSES ⸻ ativas e inativas.

by fc / park jimin

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ juniper song.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ toulouse bonfamille.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ juno park.

by fc / kim taehyung

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ solaris kwon.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ sorem cartwright.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ choi jihan.

by fc / jeon jungkook

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ song dareum.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ lynx seon.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ bae minam.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ phillip kim.

by fc / min yoongi

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ evan kim.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ victor park.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ song shiwon.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ jack of hearts.

by fc / kim namjoon

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ carlisle nott.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ lee howon.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ park gaeul.

muses / others

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ aurora briar.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ pamela evans.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ lee eunah.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ kang nakyum.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ indigo song.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ étienne treimaine-burboun.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ sorem blanchet.

DEVELOPMENT ⸻

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒑𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ musing.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒑𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ dynamics.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒑𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ aesthetic.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒑𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ introduction.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ character name.

OUT OF CHARACTER ⸻

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ wanted plot.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ wanted fc.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ favorite dynamics.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ favorite fcs.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ fc ideas.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ personal.

⠀ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 ⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ others.

[consultingsister]

The isolated ski resort, La Montagne Solitaire, caters to an elite clientele. Known for its pristine slopes, luxurious spa, and breathtaking views, the resort is nestled high in the Swiss Alps. Guests arrived just before the season’s first major snowfall, excited for days of skiing and nights of decadence. But after an avalanche hits the night of the murder, communication with the outside world is cut off—there's no signal, and the rescue team is delayed for three days. Panic slowly sets in as the guests realise they are trapped with a murderer among them. The resort's staff, led by the mysterious concierge, have locked down the hotel in hopes of protecting the guests. But with tensions rising and secrets starting to surface, it’s only a matter of time before someone else gets hurt.

This is a group murder mystery verse created for independent OCs and canon muses. Tumblr + discord based. More info under the cut.

Meet our murder victim, Étienne Lacroix. A fifty-four Art Dealer and Antiquities Collector.

Étienne Lacroix is known for his impeccable taste and shady business dealings. A well-established art dealer, he has amassed a fortune brokering high-stakes deals between powerful clients in Europe and beyond. He moves in elite circles, yet his reputation is tainted by whispers of illegal trades and stolen artefacts. Despite the luxury of his life, Étienne is a man with many enemies, and the world of art is more cutthroat than most realize.

Étienne presents himself as cultured and refined, the perfect dinner guest who can speak at length about art, history, and travel. But beneath the surface, he is ruthless in business and personal affairs alike. He has a long history of broken promises and ruined reputations, and few truly mourn his death—many at the resort even consider it overdue. He’s made plenty of enemies, from jealous competitors to clients he's double-crossed.

Unbeknownst to most of the guests, Étienne had a past that was darker than mere art fraud. His dealings in stolen antiquities had connected him to dangerous circles, including criminals who would stop at nothing to recover their stolen treasures. Recently, he’d been involved in a deal that went sour, where a priceless artefact vanished—leading some to speculate whether he was hiding it or, worse, had already sold it to another bidder.

Your Character

Please submit your character sheet.

Name:

Age:

Occupation:

Faceclaim:

Short Description: Provide a brief overview of your character’s personality, and any quirks that make them stand out. Think of this as their first impression on the other guests. Are they charming, eccentric, or perhaps a little too quiet?

Secret: Every character in this story has a secret. What are they hiding from the other guests? It could be something from their past, a shady business deal, or a personal vendetta. Be creative—this will add layers to their interactions and might tie into the larger mystery.

Motive for the Murder: Why might your character have a reason to want Étienne Lacroix dead? It could be personal, professional, or even incidental, but give your character a clear reason why they might be a suspect. This is where the fun starts!

Connections to Other Guests/People: Does your character know any of the other guests at the resort? Are they friends, rivals, or complete strangers? These relationships can create interesting dynamics and give your character more to play off of. If they don’t know anyone yet, that’s fine too—they’ll make connections as the mystery unfolds.

Once accepted you will be added to the discord server. The server will act primarily as a place for updates but there will be a chance to chat ooc and there will be ic chat rooms for one-liners/dialogue.

Role Assignment and Killer Selection Once 6-8 roles have been filled, each member (myself included) will be assigned a number. I will use a random number generator to determine The Killer, who will be notified privately by me. IMPORTANT: The Killer’s identity must remain a closely guarded secret. Under no circumstances should this role be revealed, either in or out of character. Doing so will spoil the entire game (and result in removal from the group—so let’s keep things fun, yeah?).

This roleplay is meant to unfold gradually and organically. You can join as long as you're committed to contributing regularly to the story. It’s open to all fandoms, canon characters, and OCs, but inactive players will be replaced to ensure the narrative keeps moving.

Group Etiquette

OOC drama will not be tolerated and will result in immediate removal from the group—no exceptions.

Duplicate face claims won’t be allowed to avoid confusion.

The group will be relaxed but do stay engaged. This is a collaborative mystery, and silence disrupts the fun for everyone.

Plot Progression Throughout the roleplay, I will introduce plot points to guide the narrative and provide opportunities for character interactions. These events will unravel over several days of in-story time, encouraging your characters to collaborate, investigate, or accuse one another. These will include key moments like:

The Discovery of the Murder

An Avalanche that Traps the Guests

Plot point 1

Plot point 2

The Final Showdown

Expect the unexpected, and use these plot points to deepen your character’s story while piecing together clues.

Keep an eye on the group’s tag: *s(no)w escape murder mystery for updates and threads.

Let’s unravel this mystery together!

[untitledducklett]

Hello my name is Cael Adair [kale ah-dare], he/they, I'm a bodyguard living in Kalos with my Vanitian Absol Berior [Bear-ee-or]. I am a faller from a version of Tolkien's Legendarium though pokemon don't exist there. I do miss home a lot but I try to remember that I have a life here too.

Edit: my rotom finally deigned to teach me how to post photos here so have best boy doing his most regal pose

^ this is a picture I took of Berior a couple weeks before all distortion broke out. He is a Vanitian Absol, a critically endangered, variant that I'm working to help preserve. My mother sent me some of Professor Chestnut's notes on two of the more common extant variants (by comparison at least) which can be found here: x x.

Update: I got a bunch of new Pokémon

Momma the Vanitian Ariados: She ended up in my backyard during the Shadow Sky incident having taken it upon herself to rescue as many Pokémon as she could. Unfortunately she irreversibly damaged her exoskeleton so now she wears a prosthetic whenever she's out of the ball.

Lucretia the Vanitian Leavanny: A long time resident of the VPPS sanctuary she was immediately adopted by Momma and the pair became inseparable so I adopted them both.

Étienne the Vanitian Abra (Pronounced Et-tee-un): We were really close when he was alive. I guess now that Yves is dead he decided he wanted to stick around to keep my dumb ass safe. I really missed him.

Galadbain [Gal-ahd-bane] the fucked up Meowth Raikou: He was hatched from an egg that was left on my doorstep by Arc only knows what. He is naught but a stinky babey man who does gay baby crimes.

Bob the UD Absol: Anxiety thy name is Bob. I adopted him during the Kill 'em With Kindness fundraiser. Originally I hadn't planned on taking any of the UD Pokemon in but we all know my weakness for Absols. It'll take time but I know he'll flourish here.

<bzzt: he forgot to add a picture of himself so I decided to go through his portfolio and found this. Hopefully he doesn't notice.>

OOC things (including art notes for Cael):

New rule: if you reblog an ask game from me please send something in or look through my meme tag and find another meme to send in if the one I reblogged doesn't work.

Hi! You can call me Shopkey, I'm 28, on est, and I've been rping since September 2013. I will follow from @themerrymutants. Most of my experience is with more traditional lit rp so forgive any hiccups or force of habits. I'll try to keep ooc to a minimum but there will be some reblogs of lore from over on my main.

Cael has deer-like ears which are kept hidden underneath beanies whenever he's somewhere with cameras. If there aren't he usually uses illusions to hide them but beanie is his go-to. His sense of style and appearance are based on Magnus Bane from the Shadowhunters TV show. Berior is missing his left front leg and there is a scar there.

Cael (link takes you over to his bio over on themerrymutants) is a muse over on my main themerrymutants and this blog is based on his 'for queen and country' verse in which he was a guard for Queen Pascale of my friend's fan region Vanitas (a kingdom which eventually merged with greater Kalos about 2k years ago)

Cael keeps his backstory as a dimension-hopping elven menace but here he hides it well. Eventually, his lies will catch up to him but, for now, he's trying not to rouse too much suspicion. I haven't decided whether he keeps his wood elf magic or not yet as I've been told that people aren't as keen on interdimensional weirdness as I am.

[ncvermcre]

♟ ─ dependent blog for cardinalhq.

étienne dubois ; INTRO | VISAGE | MUSINGS | PINTEREST ; malic sulu ; INTRO | VISAGE | MUSINGS | PINTEREST ;

[an-art-exhibition]

Disclaimer:

Declaration stated, this account was built merely for roleplaying intentions. The person and the author behind this account, PIERRE, doesn't have any relation to the muse or idol involved nor other parties involved with LEE HEESEUNG OF ENHYPEN. The main languages used in this account are Bahasa Indonesia and English. PIERRE is much more comfortable doing plots in English—just in case you want to contact him for plotting intentions.

Hieroglyphs:

... : IC

"..." : IC

&. : OOC

PIERRE. : Author's Talk

[myselfinserts]

“Go to hell, sir.”

After a week of his absence, Reginald Gladstone was finally allowed visitors in the hospital. Though it was still very limited. Blanche had offered to go with Lisette first, who had somehow managed to drag Henri with her. Lydie and Grégory were currently taking care of the kittens, who would soon be ready to go to their forever homes.

Étienne had something he had to do, so he didn't come with. Not that she expected him to. Blanche understood why, and wouldn't dream of trying to force him. It was probably for the best. Especially when the three stepped off the elevator and started making their way to the room their friend was staying in.

As they walked off the lift and made their way into the Hero's Ward, arms filled with baskets of goodies and flowers and get-well-soon cards, a loud, frustrated, tired voice rang through the halls in perfect French.

"And just what do you expect me to tell him? 'Dearest baby brother, wake up. The asshole who let you get flung off into the beyond wants to interrogate you?' He's in a medically fucking induced coma, you vainglorious buffoon. He's not waking up for at least another twelve hours at best. Another three days if we're going to be generous."

Blanche put an arm out, stopping her companions in their tracks as they stayed around the corner, just barely peaking around to see what was happening. A blessing that this floor was reserved for Heroes, and that Regi was currently the only occupant. Otherwise the argument would no doubt wake the entire ward.

In front of the room holding the patient stood two people. One was a young woman in a long mauve skirt and an oversized navy sweater, her hair barely tied back and laying over her shoulder. She looked very much like Regi, so Blanche had to assume they were related, though she wasn't entirely sure.

The other person wasn't hard to guess, however. A twelve foot tall man with the head and claws of a grizzly bear, a tail resembling a rattle snake, and horns like a mountain ram. Known to the public as Chimera Fifth, Armel Lisson was a well known terror both on and off the battlefield.

And this woman barely half his size seemed to have no problem fighting him with her words.

"We don't have three days," Armel growled. "Get him out of the coma and get him to talk."

"Do you honestly think I'm some kind of miracle worker or a goddamn ventriloquist?" The woman scoffed. "You're lucky I don't put you in a coma."

"What the hell?" Henri whispered. "Does she realize who she's up against?"

"Father, please." Another voice piped up. "Perhaps we can come back another-"

Armel turned his attention to his left, stepping back to fully look at the speaker. Blanche didn't even notice him at first. Despite the lion's head, the deer antlers, and a pair of wings, this person was barely taller than the woman. And looked fairly normal in every other aspect.

"You have no place to speak, Léandre," Armel chided. "It is your rookie mistake that caused this in the first place. Now our primary suspect has a few days head start, and our only witness to their face is out of commission. You should be grateful I even agreed to allow you to come along on patrol today."

Lisette held back a gasp. "That's Chimera Sixth. Regi was working with both of them?"

"Looks like things aren't all sunshine and rainbows in the Chimera family," Blanche mused.

Léandre winced and turned his face away. "Sorry, Sir."

The woman rolled her eyes turned to go back into the room. "I think we're done here. If Regi wakes up, I'll call you." She looked over her shoulder one last time. "Good luck on your little Quirk Candy Shopping spree. And kindly go to hell, sir.”

Armel let out a snort and continued down the hall, heading to the other end of the wing. Blanche poked her head a little further out, watching as Léandre began to follow, giving his wings a gentle flutter as he went.

For a moment, Blanche was certain the hero looked over his shoulder, giving a gentle "hush" sign.

"Should we go?" Lisette quietly asked.

Blanche sook her head. "....I think we need to visit."

Henri went slack jawed. "Seriously? And risk pissing that lady off?"

"We came all this way. May as well drop off these gifts."

Lisette shrugged and, after an aggravated sigh of reluctance, Henri followed them down the hall and into the room.

Blanche couldn't help but smile. A closer look at the woman as they arrived showed that the oversized sweater was tucked partially into the skirt, and partly fell off the shoulders. She wore a black, sleeveless, high collared top under it, pulling the look together nicely. Her dark hair seemed to start as an earthy brunette in the front, before fading to a deep, obsidian sheen on the back, much like Regi. And her amethyst eyes glowed with exhaustion and distrust.

"Pardon the intrusion," Lisette greeted. "We brought gifts."

"....you can just set them over there," the woman grumbled, nodding to the empty table under the TV as she crossed her arms. "Apologies if the little spat outside startled you. I didn't mean to raise my voice like that. Hate doing it. Everyone seems to hide when I do."

Henri stammered. "Y-you mean, you...you saw us?"

"You weren't exactly subtle." She looked him over carefully. "Insomnia, anxiety, and you're developing high blood pressure. Frequent in support designers. Might want to check in with your GP before you keel over like the twig you are."

"Excuse me?" He glared at her, eyes glowing softly as if preparing to fire. "Just who do you think you are? Dr. Big Tits?"

"Yes. Actually, I am a doctor. A damn good one at that." She scoffed. "And I know I'm not your type, Gazer-beam, but nice try at the backhanded compliment."

Lisette held back a snicker as Henri's face turned a bright red. "Well, someone just got pegged."

"He wishes," Blanche teased.

Henri rolled his eyes and turned away. "I hate both of you."

The woman shook her head in disbelief. "I'm sorry. Who are you people?"

"Oh my. Where are my manners?" Blanche smiled pleasantly, putting everyone in the room at ease. "Blanche Gautier, and I'm a friend of your brother. The two beside me are Lisette Tellier and Henri Didier." She held out her hand lightly batting her lashes in a strategic manner that the others would easily recognize. "If I'm correct, you must be Marianne. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Regi talks about you often."

Marianne uncrossed her arms and hesitantly accepted the gesture. "Yes, I'm Marianne Gladstone. Thank you for being my brother's friends. And for coming to visit him." She glanced between them all, studying them carefully. "Were any of you the ones who gave him medical attention?"

"No, we weren't," Henri sighed. "No idea who it was."

"Hm. Pity. I was hoping to personally thank whoever did it." She looked back to Regi, who continued to sleep peacefully. "Whoever it was has the makings of a great doctor. If they hadn't done what they did…."

Lisette reached into her hoodie, carefully pulling out a bundle of grey fur. "You seem tense. Would petting Grumps help?"

Grumps let out a soft yawn, seemingly indifferent to the tension of the room.

For the first time since they arrived, Marianne smiled, and gave the cat a gentle scratch under the chin. "Aren't you a cutie? Regi's probably a big fan of you. He adores cats as much as he does dogs."

Blanche glanced over at Regi, taking in the sight. There were IVs hooked into both arms, and an oxygen mask over his usually smiling face. He seemed paler than usual. Yet still peaceful, like the few times she'd seen him doze off during a late night study session. His hair seemed to have been brushed, laying out and over the pillow, away from all the medical equipment. A hairbrush lay on the bedside table, along with a few hair ties.

I guess she was in the middle of tending to that before being rudely interrupted.

Henri, after finally recollecting himself, returned his attention to Marianne. "Any idea what exactly happened? We only know that he was injured."

Marianne's smile quickly faded and she slowly pulled away from them, walking over to the window and gazing out at the city. "...It was supposed to be a regular night time patrol. That was the last thing Regi said to me before I had to return to work. We'd been on a phone call. I was due for surgery. Triple bypass." Her breath shook. "I can't go into details on how I know, but....later that night, after I had gotten home, a friend of mine showed up. Explained that Regi had gotten involved in a fight when both the Chimeras were chasing a suspect in a string of kidnappings. Sixth managed to demask him before being knocked out, and Regi was going to get him out of there when the suspect turned a weapon on him. Fifth went in for a killing strike in a fit of rage, and Regi tried to get him to stop. One thing lead to another and Regi got flung halfway across town. The suspect got away when Fifth was tending to Sixth." Her eyes were damp as the taste of saltwater slowly danced in the air. "Can't really blame Monsieur Lisson. He's overworked and overprotective. A combination I know too well."

Blanche gingerly came over, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Still doesn't help knowing he sent your brother flying, does it?"

Marianne shook her head. "No. And Regi was damn lucky a good samaritan was willing to help him. I saw the surgeon's notes and the files." She wiped the tears from her eyes. "Even though Regi didn't puncture anything vital, he still would have bled out if someone didn't get to him. Can't even imagine what we'd do if...." Her eyes darted to the reflection of Regi in the window. "The world still needs smiles like his.... Tanith still.....she still needs her big brother....."

Blanche nodded softly. "Have you had anything to eat or drink?"

She shook her head. "No. No, I've been here in this room the last 48 hours since I arrived. Barely had time to go to the hotel." She sighed quietly. "Could use a stiff, I think...."

Henri's shoulders slumped. "Then....my treat. There's a little café across the road. Makes a lovely mid-day cocktail."

Marianne turned to him in shock. "I'm sorry, I can't-"

"I can stay with Regi while you take some time to rest," Blanche assured. "Take Lisette with you both. I can call either her or Henri if anything happens."

"Please, doc." Henri smiled sadly. "Take it from a fellow big sibling. You're no good to him exhausted and dead."

After a moment of pause, Marianne nodded. "I suppose a quick lunch wouldn't hurt. But if anything happens-"

"I promise. I'll call you."

"...okay." Her shoulders finally relaxed. "Thank you."

Blanche watched as they all gathered themselves up and left, and once she was sure no one was coming in, closed the door, and counted.

One otter baby. Two otter baby. Three otter baby. Four otter baby. Five otter baby. Should be enough.

"You can open your eyes now. They're gone."

"....you noticed."

Blanche turned around, smiling as she saw Regi staring at her. "Your dominant hand twitches when you're waking up. Lisette was in hysterics when we first heard you were near death, but I must say, you're pretty talkative for a corpse." She went over and picked up the brush. "You don't think your sister would mind, would she?"

Regi smiled, though it was barely noticeable under the mask. "I don't think she would." His voice was coarse. Almost raw. "I'd appreciate it."

"Anything for my favorite Otter Child." She adjusted the bed and carefully set to work. "So....Mary wasn't involved in this at all?"

Regi sighed. "No, she was...kind of..." He swallowed. "Any ice chips?"

"I can call the nurse for some."

"Nah, best not. I'm supposed to be in a coma, remember?" He chuckled. "Yeah....Mary had tried to join my patrol. Took me ten minutes to send her back to her hotel. If I hadn't been delayed, I'd have been well past that spot in my patrol by the time the Chimeras showed up."

Blache nodded, gently braiding Regi's hair loosely on his side. "Best not tell your sister that yet. She would explode, I think."

"You have no idea....." His eyes glanced downward, brows pinched.

"....I know that look, Reginald Gladstone," she cooed. "What are you thinking?"

"....Can I ask a favor, Blanche?"

"Can you?"

"May I?"

"You may."

He tried not to laugh. "Mari's an overworkaholic in every sense of the word....and a worry wart worse than me. Worse than Henri." Regi looked her in the eye. "She's never been to Paris, either. Only been to France once for a medical conference, but that was in Cannes, and only for a day. She never had a chance to enjoy herself."

Blanche's hand stalled. "Are you asking what I believe you are going to ask?"

"....would you make sure she enjoys herself?" Regi asked earnestly. "She probably is using some of her unused sick leave or vacation time for this. She wouldn't take time off for leisure unless forced. I don't...I don't want her only memories of Paris being of me in a hospital room..."

"Oh, honey." Blanche smiled sweetly. "It'd be my pleasure. Especially since I want that jam recipe of hers."

[mscoyditch]

Photo by Felix Thiollier. French. 1842-1914.

“His father, Claude Auguste, was a ribbon maker. In 1857, he started a ribbon company in Saint Étienne. At age 37 he retired and pursued his interests in art, archeology and photography.” -

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Félix_Thiollier

Exhibition: ‘Félix Thiollier (1842-1914), photographs’ at the Musée d’Orsay, Paris -

https://artblart.com/2014/02/28/exhibition-felix-thiollier-1842-1914-photographs-at-the-musee-dorsay-paris/

Author. Elizabth Camden.

"I love everything about this picture, including the story behind it! The dramatic composition of the horse, the woman’s fabulous coat, and blowing snow is somehow hypnotic to me.

The photographer was Felix Thiollier, a wealthy French industrialist who made his fortune early in life, then quit and moved to the countryside to pursue his love of photography. His favorite subjects were the French woodlands and what he believed to be the disappearing way of traditional way of life.

The woman in this 1899 photo was his daughter, who moved into the country with him, and often appeared as a subject in his photographs".

> Steve Gallagher > Public Domain Photos and Images

I

[rcsplendent]

max's eyebrows raise when she reveals that her brothers have all but forbidden her from love, a surprised, airy laugh escaping him. " i'm twenty-three, too, " he says with a smile, warmed by the idea that they have something as simply as their birth year in common. " but i don't think my brothers are nearly as protective of me. in fact, i think i'm more protective of them. " he glances in his family's direction, though his eyes return forward a moment later, not wanting to miss a step ( or, god forbid, step on her feet ) because he was looking away. " sometimes i feel a bit like a guard dog. especially for étienne — although now that they're married, i do not have to do much guarding anymore. " the smile on his face goes lopsided, his head tilting in a look of wonderment as she goes on about the stories she reads. he reacts along with every detail — playful dismay at the mention of a forbidden love, delight at the idea of enemies who become lovers over time. his expression softens at the final one, though — her favorite. " that sounds . . . nice, " he muses absentmindedly, brown eyes flickering over the features of her face; her rosy cheeks, the slope of her nose, her delicate lips. " sounds a bit familiar. " his eyes widen at his own admission, mentally scrambling to backpedal before he humiliates himself. " maybe i've . . . read something like that, before. "

Victoria was never more thankful for the days she'd spent amongst her own company than this very moment when the haze of getting lost in gleeful emotion and bubbling nerves could have hindered her dance steps. With so much time spent practicing music ( the pianoforte, the harp, her singing and dancing lessons ) it all became second nature to turn about a traditional waltz without missing a single step, though her mind was covered in pink clouds all around her. She could focus on how nervous he seemed, was that normal for a prince to do? Or did it mean something else? She watched as he looked back and forth from her to his cousin, Laurie. "That's right..." the realization came about her as she looked to the Prussian, "I hadn't thought of the differences in our ages. I am but twenty and three and my brothers tell me I don't have to worry about such things at the moment." At least not for another seven years, was the exact words of Credence. "Oh yes, the great authors write about love all the time and the many ways it can come about," she excitedly educated, "Sometimes they are enemies first before they realize their hatred is a mask for care. Sometimes they are forbidden to love one another and so they must navigate those who oppose them at every turn. Those all sound quite exciting, but rather exhausting if it were to happen in real life. My favorite is the easiest of them all, when they are friends, but they hide their care for one another because they are scared to change things..."

[cuteteacakes]

{📜} - A French pirate? Mid. "Those who fall for such scallywags have only themselves to blame."

[hxxll-o]

[beenovel]

woah okay, now with the Susanna story you had me wondering.. what names do you find the most beautiful?

(referencing this post)

That's a great question!! Names hold a special place in my heart.

I really adore some of the names I named my plants (obviously lol) so:

Cimorene

Ayla

Aylah

Lianna

Florence

Jeanne (named after the french pirate)

Anne

Libelle

Calliope (after the greek muse)

-

Other names I like:

Grace (after Grace O'Malley)

Elizabeth (It's an old family name)

Camille

Celine (a version of my mother's middle name, Seline)

Étienne

Belladonna

Beatrix

[curseconsumed]

Étienne d' Antoine...the man was born not long after Jacob had been turned, and in a way, it was odd seeing such talent grow and wither away while he, himself remained unchanged. Even if he learned to curb his appetite, he could never stay beyond three to five years in one place. The risk was far too great.

"I am a fan of architecture, so I've always enjoyed Montpelier's Cathédrale Saint-Pierre," Jacob softly said. It was too bad he could never go within its intricate walls -- not unless he wished to suffocate beneath the wrath of God.

Cleaning off his tools, he muttered, "You've been given a rare blessing. Most are not fortunate enough to travel the world, but truly...what is life if it cannot be explored? As of now, I believe my favorite place was a small town in Ireland."

He did not wish to disclose it. Some memories were meant for him and him alone. It was unfortunate that he was ultimately driven away. In the end, the Celtic people referred to him as “An T-ollphéist” -- “The Monster” -- which was a name he carried like a shadowed brand over his unbeating heart.

For whatever reason, Lorraine seemed enchanted by his musings. "If Massachusetts anything like what little I've seen of the colonies, I'll bet it's grand. Where else have your travels taken you, Dr. Nash?"

"Far and wide," he replied, intentionally vague. "I've been to every continent, and I imagine I'll continue to cycle through them for the rest of my days." My long, miserable days.

"I admire your restless spirit. It can take you places others can only dream of."

Unbidden, Jacob's cheek twitched and he frowned. "Being restless can also be a hindrance," he replied. "A restless spirit is one that knows no peace...and thus, foolish decisions are often made. There is nothing to admire about that." When Isaac Mayhew groaned, Jacob moved over and applied a damp cloth to his forehead. His gaze was dark and akin to claret within the candlelight. "Have you ever seen a man die, Miss Duplantier?"

"I've tried your approach, and I'm afraid it didn't take."

Le courage de lui (the nerve of him). And here Lorraine had heard Americans thought her people to be rude. Judging by the evidence before her, it was quite the opposite. If that's how he wished to be, then he could do so. She had no intention of allowing his behavior to sour her conviction.

These men had seen enough to tear at their hearts and minds. If she could give them even a fraction of reassurance through her care, then it made her hard work worth it.

"C'est magnifique, Monsieur Mayhew. It will take a little time, so rest for now and try to drink something, even if you don't want to. I'll be back soon to change your bedpan."

"Where are you from?" she heard Jacob ask, prompting her to turn her attention back to him with a curiously quirked brow, "I lived in both Avignon and Montpelier for a short while."

"Did you? Avignon has a stunning amphitheater, but I've never had the pleasure of seeing Montpelier. I've heard they recently erected a breathtaking fountain sculpture by Étienne d' Antoine. He has such exquisite work, so I imagine it must be beautiful."

It was surprising that Jacob had bothered to say anything to her that didn't involve a veiled insult or underhanded comment, but she found herself intrigued, especially considering he'd lived in her home country.

"I was born in Dijon," Lorraine finally answered, "The family estate is there, but my father is Foreign Minister, which means my family has always gone wherever he does -- because of this, I've lived in Portugal, Bavaria, the Ottoman Empire, and even Sweden. All these places combined make up far more time spent living outside of my beloved France, however I've also found it does little to diminish my admiration for it."

"I'm from the colony of Massachusetts, but my feet have never known rest," he said, the latter statement bringing a sense of delight aflutter in her chest. Maybe they were more similar than either of them had previously realized.

"If Massachusetts anything like what little I've seen of the colonies, I'll bet it's grand. Where else have your travels taken you, Dr. Nash?"

"Perhaps that's the appeal of serving as a surgeon in the army...we, too, never stay in one place for long."

"I admire your restless spirit," she said, "It can take you places others can only dream of."

[untitledducklett]

📀

Meme: Send me a 📀 to see a recent memory of my muse (doesn't have to be super recent just more recent than childhood) Currently: Accepting!

The DVD player whirs to life, a quaint scene starting to play out over the ancient kalosian countryside.

Étienne was seated next to Cael on top of a hill. They'd been passing a bottle of wine that they had 'borrowed' from their drill Sargent.

"I've always loved the view here," Cael murmured as he took a sip. He wasn't looking at the rolling countryside.

"As have I." Oh so gently he reached out to place a hand on Cael's thigh. It was a dangerous move if he misread but he had little doubt that he had.

He felt Cael's hand cupping his cheek. He wasn't wrong. They thoroughly explored this new view and found it to be perfect.

[virtuenvice]

new tag dump uwu

[gildedgaze]

A tiny scene from the drafts for a future chapter of darling, i do. 

Seeking Baba’s Approval About Étienne

Though Laurent wouldn’t necessarily say he liked Callista, he did find her tolerable.

Enough so that he was comfortable to allow her to sit alongside him in his quarters while he read through tedious documents—she seemed contented with being given any leisurely novel Laurent happened to have on hand.

As custom, a pitcher of wine and a platter topped with varying food was prepared. Laurent attempted to be coy as he watched her meticulously slice off the edges of a fluffy brioche bun. Of course, she took notice, saying,

“I hate the crust, it's always so hard and burnt, I should have told the servants to remove them.”

Laurent scoffed, not unkindly, as he replied,

“Nonsense, that’s the best part, perhaps you just lack acquired tastebuds…”

The princess rolled her eyes, though internally she mused, it was simple moments like this, where Baba didn’t seem so far away.

Laurent remained locked in the Contracts Of The Living, trying desperately to locate any loopholes which could allow him to awaken in magic.

The silence, which was surprisingly comfortable, was broken by Callista saying,

“Your Highness,”

He only glanced at her briefly, the princess knew well enough that it was his silent way of saying speak.

How would she phrase this…

“Um, what do you think about Étienne?”

What Callista truly yearned to ask was, do you approve of him.

Laurent toyed with the edge of the document as he said,

“…What do I think, of the street boy from Nesson?”

The princess let out a steady laugh as she just went on and said it,

“Yes, how do you find him? If your…child, were to say, court him, would you allow it?”

Laurent appeared nothing short of bewildered.

This young woman was far too comfortable asking such questions.

Upon contemplation, Laurent realized he was never truly afforded the luxury of thinking about the future.

His life, up until this point, had been thoroughly about beating his uncle.

After prolonged silence, Laurent casually let out,

“I will have no heirs; my line ends with me.”

Callista was most definitely not expecting that sort of response.

Just as he was about to return to reading, she said,

“You don’t know that…”

Laurent let out a humourless laugh as he responded with surety,

“Yes, I do.”

The princess appeared far from convinced as he went on to say,

“I’d rather slit my wrists, than bed a woman.”

Callista couldn’t help but make a choked sound as she squeezed his arm in affection, as if they’ve known each other for their entire lives as she said playfully,

“Indeed…”

Laurent was slightly unnerved.

All his life he had been surrounded by acquaintances, eager suitors and opportunistic vipers, but never any real friends.

Callista was not only jovial and easy to be around, but she also seemed to truly understand Laurent, a trait which made her peculiar.

After a few moments she said,

“Family doesn’t have to be blood.”

Laurent raised his eyebrows as he said evenly,

“In what world?”

The princess was smoothening the ends of her hair, as he continued,

“Your blood, determines your magic.”