#and build our castles in the air. (mina murray)

[esoterium]

@vyrulent || a meme from somewhere in this tag! || accepting!

[ bruises ] reverse ( mina finding the bites on lucy's neck )

mina sits by lucy's bedside, her fingers laced with that if her soulmate's. her best friend. her lucy. wide, dark eyes comb over her pallid features. her face full of worry. there's nothing in this world she wouldn't do to make her better again. she's said prayers. pleaded with any angels or spirits that might be listening that they intervene and bring her lucy back to the vibrant and lovely person she's always been since the moment they met. but now? that lucy only seems to exist in mere moments. ones that come and go and are now falling further and further apart.

she's terrified that the whispers are going to be true. that they'll lose her to madness or fever or worse. her fingers fall to brush lucy's hair back away from her face. a touch that caresses, featherlike and barely there over her cheek. "i love you, lucy. don't leave me.." and when her eyes open again and they meet one another's, mina's smile is warm and inviting. it begs her the same. stay with me. i need you and i love you.

the necklace is too heavy against lucy's neck and she frowns. "it's silly. wearing this thing when you're in your condition." she leaves her friend no room for argument before the clasp is undone and the heavy pearls fall down along a delicate collarbone. she sees them the second it does. the dark bites against ivory skin. her fingers snap away as if they were burned from the shock. "lucy!" her whisper is sharp. pointed. quiet enough that no one outside the room might hear and come in.

brows push together as she leans in, not wanting to touch them out of fear it might hurt her worse. but they look awful enough that a doctor should see them. and yet.. why were they hidden? confusion sets in and she shakes her head. "what's happened to you?"

[captainsparklefingers]

Mina is here! She's finally here!!

And gosh, it's such a nice change from the creeping horrors to get a letter from our good friend Mina Murray to HER good friend Lucy Westenra. It's all just so... normal! Talking about work, her upcoming trip to see Lucy, diary talk...

Of course there's still stuff that hits different the second time around. Of particular note to me is Mina's journaling plans and the ambition that comes from it: "I shall try to do what I see lady journalists do: interviewing and writing descriptions and trying to remember conversations. I am told that, with a little practice, one can remember all that goes on or that one hears said during a day."

Which, of course, is a secret tool that will help us later.

To say nothing of course about longing to see Jonathan and how his news makes him sound well, how she'd like to see Transylvania with him someday...

Ah, but enough of that! Lucy has some hot boy goss for us next time!

[esoterium]

there isn't much. broken furniture. long forgotten by the priests that once sat upon them. or the parishioners that, no doubt, funded their presence in the first place. scattered papers with hymns scratched upon them. dusty, empty shelves with old candlesticks covered in dirty wax. leaves. dried leaves scattered about on the floor. however. in one corner lies an old, discarded pile of priests robes. it might not be lucy's torn cloth, but better? no color to them. modest black and not their size. too large for the both of them. but there's half a dozen. give or take. and they're dry.

mina is doing her best to spot a bit of wax with a wick jutting out. something to give them light that isn't coming from flashes of blue white haunted by the crack of thunder chasing after it. her nerves make her teeth clench at the clatter against the windows. her composure is kept for lucy's benefit. even if she has to tuck her chin towards her damp collar and breathe in through her nose with her head turned and a cautious glance given in the noise's direction to do so.

but she's all smiles when her names spoken. long lashes blink at the question and her nose scrunches. "i hope not," a gentle smile follows, "but if we do? at least the company is more than good enough to keep me content through any storm." a squeeze is given to lucy's hand and she spins on her heel to give the floor another sweep.

the robes seem to slip past her attention. a few books catch her eye in lieu of any light source. though they do trail towards the old fireplace. her brow crinkles. it's black inside. blacker. the books stop in front of it. were they burning them? she doesn't speak her thoughts. "i wonder if there are any treasures inside these pages.. enough of a reason that we could burn the furniture instead of them. for preservation's sake.." she's mina after all. toss a book in a flame? her?

"though we won't burn anything if we don't find a means to.."

Lucy melts into Mina's soft caress, her hand is cold, but so is her cheek, cold and wet like the weather outside. The only thing their current shelter has that makes her feel better is the dryness inside, the walls and roof miraciously remaining steadfast under such conditions over all these years.

Her eyes dart back to Mina's from the floor at her words, at the memories of frightful stories told when they were supposed to be asleep already. Her lips curl up into a soft smile. "Of course, I remember. And then come morning we were asleep and close to missing out on a warm breakfast." She chuckles, following her friend's lead.

"Hope there is a fireplace," Lucy mutters, shivering. "or some torn cloth, so long as it is dry." she sighs, always so careful about what she wears but in this instance she would not turn her back on the ugliest of dress so long as it was dry and offers warmth in its clutches.

"Mina darling, do you think we'll have to spend the rest of the day here?" Lucy whispers, leaning in close after hearing a particularly loud clang against one of the windows; she hopes it is a branch, and not some poor bird. She huffs a little, unable to do anything but look around and hope that her eyes come across something useful for them. Perhaps, by focusing on looking for particular objects she can close out the shadows of the branches and whatnot which can spook her. Although, Mina's words about the ghost story not being anything but that, a story, seems to have helped calm her quickening pulse.

[godzilla-reads]

“I am longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and build our castles in the air.”

—Mina Murray, to Lucy Westenra; from Dracula

[mzannthropy]

Last year, I made an unlikely comparison between Dracula and L.M. Montgomery books; Mina and Lucy's friendship reminds me a lot of female friendships that are so well captured in LMM books. The line: "I am longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and build our castles in the air" is like something from LMM. But also, the names: Mina's surname is Murray, which is the main clan name from the Emily of New Moon series and Lucy Westenra--why, Lucy is literally the author's name! Lucy Maud Montgomery, only she used her middle name so everyone called her Maud. And let's not forget that LMM heroines often write journals and letters.

So the two have more in common that would seem, despite being completely different genres.

[emarie-stone]

Forgive my long delay in writing, but I have been simply overwhelmed with work. I am longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and build our castles in the air. Mina Murray to Lucy Westenra, 9 May

[esoterium]

mina holds onto him as tightly as she can. there is no monster here. not in her eyes. it is simply hyde. the one who was gone from her. forever. or so she thought. there was such mourning for losing him. an ache that settled in her chest and spread over her body and soul until she felt as if she'd never recover from it. did he have any idea what he'd left behind in his wake the moment that he was gone? she doesn't open herself up to caring about many others. there's not enough of her left and the pieces she gives are given cautiously. so giving those pieces to him? only to lose him? was a tragedy that haunted her.

she lingers there for as long as it takes her heart to allow her to pull back. her hand still touching his as dark eyes drink in the sight of him. "you are. and you did." her opposite hand lifts as she rises up on her toes. and waits for him to lower himself enough that she can cup his cheek unable to stop herself from wanting to touch him. as if she needs reassurance that he's real. not some figment of her imagination. "thank you. for finding me.." and they will figure out why and how he is back later. for now? she just wants his time.

It was impossible. They both knew he shouldn’t be standing here. Alive and whole as if he had just left the Nautilus for a stroll.

“I don’t know” the giant brute rumbled, with a tone only used for those his cares about. Then she’s hugging him, well, as best as one of his size can be hugged and he returns it, the palm of his hand pressing oh so lightly against her back in a awkwardly embrace. This was still the same monster that had walked joyfully to his death across the bridge, the same beast that had ravaged and lay waste to Griffin. Yet at this moment Hyde was tame. “But I’m back. I’m back and I found you”

@esoterium

[lisianthe]

Mina "let's walk on the beach and build our castles in the air" Murray and Lucy "let us undress by the fire" westenra

[milfbro]

I love Mina Murray so much, she's like "hey lucy sorry for not writing sooner, being a school teacher's assistant is so hard... I long to be with you and build our castles in the air haha just kidding... unless? anyway I've been studying english law, train timetables, shorthand, fast typing, to make myself a good wife and definitely not cause I'm hyperfixating. I'm keeping a journal also and I intent to type out all of Jonathan's voice notes. I'm okay. xoxo.'

[benejessica]

"I am longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and build our castles in the air."

cool cool cool so yeah mina murray is a lesbian

[esoterium]

oh she is wild now. a frenzied set of hands that reach and grab for tethers to an entity that has consumed every waking moment of her existence..her soul. his death means nothing. not to her. not to the fates. not to the mere existence of what binds them together throughout lifetimes and decades and centuries. through blood and bone and what binds them both together to create her whole being is what she calls him to her with.

nightly, she paces the floors of the hallways. of forests. and the abandoned cathedral a places where even grown men fear. she walks and walks until her feet are bloodied and broken and she has to hide the wounds during the day with torn cloth until the ghost of him inside of her--remanents of the gift that would've kept them together for lifetimes beyond what the minds of the men that would've put her down like some rabid dog, some beastly thing no better than the demon they cursed him to be--works it's way through her veins to ease the deepest wounds. it's magic fading. nature and knowledge would fight to do the rest.

she's mad. she's never left that night, her husband would say behind her back when he thought she didn't hear. (she did. oh she did.) but i won't send her away. in sickness and in health and i will bring her home to me. but in their bed? his hands upon her claimed otherwise. he craved her madness, she craved a touch and a mouth that her gaze failed to register as the man she married. instead it belonged to--

--her mouth opens when she sees him in the darkness. were you lost? a question so quiet and shaken. if she's dreaming again, she doesn't want to wake. candles burn as if she summoned him. some secret pact between the devil and her. those same bare feet move as if she's in a dream towards the tall, glass-paned doors and a trembling hand opens the latch. "please.. come to me. and don't go." he is marred. a shell healing from the very threshold of death yet again but to her? oh, he is lovely. her love. her prince. "oh my love. i've missed you. with every part of myself." she reaches out to touch him but hesitates, her fingers hover close to his cheek. should she? or will he shy away? "have you truly returned or have i honestly gone as mad as they say?"

@esoterium / Mina : "Were you lost?"

" For  years.  Centuries... "  At  this  moment,  he  exists  only  for  her.  A  vapor,  an  apparition  conjured  out  of  mist  and  blood  and  dirt.  And  as  he  moves  closer,  and  into  the  glow  of  her  candles,  darkness  cradles  him,  a  shadowed  halo  of  his  former  glory.  

To  her,  he  is  whole.  For  her,  he  is  polished  marble,  an inviting stranger  plucked  right  out  of  her  visions.  A  kindred  thing.  

Beneath  it  all,  there  are  holes  of  dark  and  crimson,  flesh  misshapen  and  broken,  his  bottomless  rage.  It  had  taken  days  to  return  to  something  resembling  a  man.  Nights  spent  in  the  leaden  dark,  wounds  laid  bare,  as  he  devoured  the  tepid  blood  brought  back  by  his  creatures.  And  even  now,  after  everything...  the  mask  is  slipping.

Dracula  smiles.   And  burrows  deeper  still.

" It  was  you  who  found  me.  Even  at  death's  door,  I  heard  only  your  voice.  Let  me  in,  my  beloved.  My  Mina. "

[esoterium]

@musesofhororr || a meme continuation || from x.

mina kept her head down, mind a million miles away. a literal ocean separating her present from her thoughts. brows pursed together form a tiny wrinkle of worry. a true sign of where her wanderings lie. they're not pleasant. not by a long means. fingers toy with the delicate hunter green fabric of her skirt hem. pink cheeks reflect the chilly weather as the wind blows a tendril of black to and froe across her face from where it's fallen from the rest that'd been carefully pinned back.

she pays it, as well as the rest of her surroundings, no mind. which is why it's rather easy for her to nearly be toppled over at the slightest brush against brush against her. uneven cobblestones and all. let alone one that is a full contact. one that sends her bouncing back from the woman she walked head on into. she is in the middle of receiving a bevy of rude words over the lady's shoulder as she saunters off while mina struggles (and fails) to catch her balance.

missing an opportunity to tell her exactly how much she appreciated many of those words.

a steady hand and arm catch her; bring her to her feet. her hand seems to small compared to his forearm when she clutches it to further gain her footing. round eyes stare up at him, mouth open in surprise.

"no! no. of course not, sir. it--i--you," words fail her and that's when she notices the clutch she was carrying in one hand was on the ground. contents scattered all over. "no. it wasn't you. i'm not----hurt. i might've ended up face first," she hasn't looked away and barely finished a sentence let alone ducked down to pick up her things. her eyes never waver from his. "thank you."

[watercolour-dracula]

I am longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can walk together freely and build our castles in the air. - Letter from Mina Murray to Lucy Westenra, at Whitby. 9' May.

Dracula, chapter 5. Bram Stoker.

[queen-of-spoilers-zvonchy]

Mina "I am longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and build our castles in the air " Murray

[misgranadillas]

"I am longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and build our castles in the air."

Letter from Miss Mina Murray to Miss Lucy Westenra. // Bram Stoker, Dracula.

[a-secret-land]

Dramatic Reading of Dracula Excerpt

Letter from Miss Mina Murray to Miss Lucy Westenra 

9 May.

My dearest Lucy,—

Forgive my long delay in writing, but I have been simply overwhelmed with work. The life of an assistant schoolmistress is sometimes trying. I am longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and build our castles in the air. I have been working very hard lately, because I want to keep up with Jonathan's studies, and I have been practising shorthand very assiduously. When we are married I shall be able to be useful to Jonathan, and if I can stenograph well enough I can take down what he wants to say in this way and write it out for him on the typewriter, at which also I am practising very hard. He and I sometimes write letters in shorthand, and he is keeping a stenographic journal of his travels abroad. When I am with you I shall keep a diary in the same way. I don't mean one of those two-pages-to-the-week-with-Sunday-squeezed-in-a-corner diaries, but a sort of journal which I can write in whenever I feel inclined. I do not suppose there will be much of interest to other people; but it is not intended for them. I may show it to Jonathan some day if there is in it anything worth sharing, but it is really an exercise book. I shall try to do what I see lady journalists do: interviewing and writing descriptions and trying to remember conversations. I am told that, with a little practice, one can remember all that goes on or that one hears said during a day. However, we shall see. I will tell you of my little plans when we meet. I have just had a few hurried lines from Jonathan from Transylvania. He is well, and will be returning in about a week. I am longing to hear all his news. It must be so nice to see strange countries. I wonder if we—I mean Jonathan and I—shall ever see them together. There is the ten o'clock bell ringing. Good-bye.

Your loving

MINA.

Tell me all the news when you write. You have not told me anything for a long time. I hear rumours, and especially of a tall, handsome, curly-haired man???