#NOT VIEWABLE IC

[jujulebee]

((god shes just sooooooooo shaped

[thatmonroe]

📝 About Hubie, but specifically about gardening :>

[…] were it not for his packed schedule. It does surprise me, how Hubert manages to find time in his nights to dedicate to others. Even the tree I gifted him on Christmas - is is in full bloom, now. I wonder if that is part of Fina's influence on him, or if the both just naturally connected on their innate desire to nurture that which surrounds them.

I need to remember to bring him more flowers and plants, whenever I am invited over. I also wouldn't kill him to add a bit of green to contrast with all the neutral tones in his haven.

A strange thing, when a Ventrue emotes. I needed to borrow Fina's bike - I suppose I should have […]

(Text around drawing: In my head, I've named her Célinne. There is a frenchness to her]

[fancyratvanity]

One more day

The sun reaches my bed

One more day to spend alone again

[midnight-blue-blood]

Eavesdrop?

A conversation lost in the soft chimes of a purple house made store front.

"...The first time you've approached me in nearly three months and it's to ask after some random child, Regent? I wasn't aware your people had such interest in the local sewers."

"Well, of course he is from the sewers! What else could he be? My, is there something you haven't told us? A secret, perhaps? If you doubt my word so, please feel free to meet with Jericho."

"Why, he is already engaged! He looks after signorina Vicario's rather extensive library. It does keep him busy. I'm afraid you wouldn't be able to find a free spot in his schedule..."

"He's a sweet boy. I'm not certain how I feel about these accusations, given how he assisted in pulling our friends out of a literal fire. You should perhaps be more careful..."

[smoulderingember]

Ember enters the room five times, then locks the door.

He hadn't been joking about forming an orgy of just himself, but now that they're all in a room, they stand there awkwardly.

"I. We - fuck. How does the pronoun game work here?" The one speaking has white hair, flashing eyes, and an androgynous frame.

"No idea," a more male figure speaks. His hair is flame. "This obviously isn't going to work, though. We're all just - I'm not going to do this. Which of me had this idea?"

A large, beefy, golden Ember points at a frailer-looking Nafar.

"I thought it would be a good exercise in self-love," she says. "I - ok. We - I am not ready for this."

"Obviously." He says. "I need to ease into it. Start, like, doubling up with Fex, or someone."

"Right." The golden one gestures. "Unlock the door. Amichai won't sleep long. Let's all go home."

Ember unlocks the door and files out.

[helluvasins]

Yeah, the loser that got away, you old fucking dirt bag. Fuck you, you piece of shit.

[interdimensionalburnout]

>>but the mirror HASN'T spit you back out. The lights WERE on earlier.

[sir-moss]

🕯️

🐉 Never got to do any space adventures... Part of me wants to ask her if she'll take me on any, but, I'm worried I'll care too much and get grumpy. She probably doesn't need a big sad lug like me slowing her down.

[subjectivemortality]

Eavesdrop?

Highway is...do you know personal security details, how they're always looking out for danger even when they seem relaxed? I don't think I've ever seen him truly let down his guard, but it's not necessarily...hm. Not closed off either? He's not unfriendly, quite the opposite in my experience - Oh! Have I shown you his puppets? They're delightful little things, it irritates me that he gets made fun of for them sometimes. Do you know how rare it is to find someone with such a serious deportment and past, someone nearly as old as I am, who still has whimsy?? Anyway. I call him Caretaker because that's what he does, he takes care of people. Often, I think, at the expense of letting those people very close to him. It's deeply relatable.

[djsangos]

your family misses you.

The message shoots you straight through the chest and leaves you frozen, staring at your phone for several minutes. You don't have the words or will to respond.

How the fuck would they know? For all this asshole knows, you don't even have a family to miss you at all. They're just trolling you, trying to get a reaction, trying to upset you--

Hands shaking, gritting your beak, trying to blink away the tears, trying to sob quietly so you don't wake Eight, your finger hovers over the screen for a long moment before finally pressing down on a button.

[This ask has been deleted.]

[jujulebee]

[thatmonroe]

📝 @the-road-from-calvary

[…] The matters of our 'nature' (what a pedestrian word - am I becoming less educated as time goes on? Christ.) ever the more pressing and, at the same time, growing in the deepest irrelevance. I need to ask her, I suppose - is a moment of synchronicity of any value if actively pursued? But alas, no foxes cross my path. No scarabs fly through my windows. I am sure there is much that Antonia sees about me, that I am blind to. I feel less need to hide from her than I do of myself. Even as I seek, seek, seek. I wonder if she would still be proud of me - my meaningless ruminations, if it turns out all I am good for is seeking - never finding. It would be antithetical to her practical blue blood nature, I assume. Ah, there is so much I need to do better at.

[acolytesinvocations]

Sable never could've expected the subject of the ritual to be herself.

One of the Magisters holds her as the horrific mix of ingredients is forced down her throat, containing just enough blood for her to keep it down. Her sire and Regent then takes six long golden needles, the one ingredient Sable didn't collect herself, and places them in pressure points across the Acolyte's body.

"If this succeeds," her sire says, "Mastery of thaumaturgy should come easier to you. I will be here keeping you held until you finish moving the mixture throughout your body. You're already showing promise... don't disappoint me."

Sable is kept in the air under her sire's watchful eye as the ritual progresses. While she may not be the caster, the grand majority of the work must be done on her own.

[midnight-blue-blood]

😌 eavesdrop women's wrongs?

A conversation lost to the roar of an indoor waterfall.

"My dear, why are you asking me about signorina Bloem? We are not exactly friends-...."

"...Ah. She did well at the salon, I take it? Very well. I suppose sharing her love of flowers is not untoward. And angels, as you may have guessed from her alterations. Ehy not gather and press flowers as a gift for hee next visit?"

"...I suppose you could say her sire was... hm. Unduly harsh with her in her nascent years. Yes, tragic. She is only just now coming into proper society..."

"Ah... the Prince told you? Signora Alvera is... hm. Yes. Very different, you observed well. I don't know how far we can trust her..."

"Oh, on that matter? We can trust to an extent. I think they wronged her somehow on a personal level. But I do not claim to know her mind. I don't think anyone could."

"I- her aura what? I have no idea- No- Harpy Bravinski, please- Just a moment-"

[emberoops]

Ember sighed, sitting at the desk in his office, and wondered quietly what he had been thinking when he had revealed himself as divine to the world. Surely there was a better was to do this - one that didn't hurt so much.

Today, like most days, had been dedicated to learning the intricacies of foreign policy. It was tedious, dull, and often heartbreaking work, the sort that made his head ache. His attention waned by the early afternoon.

It didn't help that the world was still so broken. He wanted to fix it - but had no idea how to solve most problems. Evert system seemed terrible, but no easy or simple solutions presented themselves. It was enough to make Ember consider, yet again, giving up. No one could stop him.

Another voice called for Ember in despair. Without thinking about it, he sliced himself a little thinner, and sent what he could to help.

It never felt like enough. It was all far too much. Ember felt tears try to well up, only to be met by psionics and flame. They dried nearly instantly. Ember laughed dryly.

He got everything - love, wealth, power, fame - and yet he didn't even keep the ability to cry. Somehow, the scales balanced all wrong. How could he be so unhappy? It made no sense.

Ember dragged his hands down his face, and pushed away from the desk. It was time to do something else - there was little enough brain power left for learning.

[the-road-from-calvary]

📝

I do not know if it is my imagination, but I do feel like Prince Lehmann has softened somewhat. While I do not imagine he will ever stop admonishing the fledglings about the perils of entanglements - nor should he, given. The Perils. - he has seemed less fatalistic and more tolerant of my antics.

How much is an indulgence of me, and how much some softening due to Mr Herrington's situation? Or some other angle I cannot yet discern?

Not that I would say such, either way. I am sure if I made a public note, it would be a prompt to remedy it. Especially if it is a softening on behalf of his childe, it would be a pity to be the cause of said softening ending.