#aurorxaeternitatis

[umbrx]

🎲 for Aeon one as well

𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 “🎲” (𝐨𝐫 "𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐞") 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 (not accepting anymore!)

➤ an 80s/90s themed mall

The ECCENTRICITY of the place was a perfect fit for someone like him, even if a mall was the LAST place one would find Doflamingo at. Bright neon signs, indoor plants, arcades and the buzzing of people amidst stores almost made him stop to merely OBSERVE. However, his legs carried him forward to Alveare, a vintage shop on the second floor.

CURIOSITY had brought him there, and the clues which were left behind on crime scenes. An unusual mess, a shift in power balance, a new group which wanted to make a name for itself—it was PROMISING. His time in Spain was well spent, but the mess which was unfolding in New York made it clear how the city itself kept constantly adapting and evolving, with or without his presence. ALMOST insulting, were it not as amusing.

Doflamingo went through the clothes while trying to discern which one of the few present people was the one he was looking for. An elderly woman trying on a coat, a young lady looking at vintage dresses with appreciation, a young man trying on fedoras or the older gentleman going through tuxedos.

His eyes caught a large pink coat which seemed to be calling out to him. Upon trying it out, it was clear the coat fit him PERFECTLY. He should buy it.

❝ Question, good sir. ❞ It was the young man with fedoras. ❝ Which one of these fedoras fits me better for a 1930s party? ❞ The man tried out a beige one then changed it with a pearl green one.

❝ Beige, definitely. ❞

❝ You think so? Hmmm... a shame really. I was really digging the green one. Alas! ❞ Doflamingo wasn't sure if it was the manner in which the younger man spoke, the THEATRICS or the glint in his yellowish eyes, but something told him he was the one he was looking for.

❝ You mentioned a 1930s party. Is it a private one or of a larger audience? ❞

❝ Larger audience—naturally, half of the city's been invited. Didn't you hear about it? Rumour has it actual gangsters will be present. Talk about a proper spin on a 1930s party, mwahahaha! ❞ He looked himself in the mirror, adjusted the beige fedora on his head, smiled in triumph.

❝ Most interesting. Who's hosting this large party? ❞

❝ You, of course. Who else knows everyone in this city? ❞

❝ I thought you LESS eccentric from your letters, Lukurra. Now, why should I ever throw such a ridiculous party? ❞

[lured-into-wonderland]

Continued from [x] with @aurorxaeternitatis

As he walked towards her, Nunnally almost regretted she asked that particular man - out of all the patrons she could approach in the café - that lovely day. The way he moved. The way he claimed space around him. His every move, every gesture seemed deliberate and planned. And that all was too familiar for her, and had never meant anything good. She was either being told to do something, or forbidden to do something. Always sent to her little corner of the world. (“Oh, come on Nunnally! You’re over it. Don’t let it haunt you!” ) – well, that wasn’t completely true, but at least she was now trying. Trying to escape the role that was assigned to her since her birth. Trying to make her own choices for her life. So, she shouldn’t let her old habits (and demons) haunt her. Otherwise, she’d most likely fail, and failing was not an option (as least not an option she would consider that day).

So, Nunnally smiled back to that stranger as he approached. She watched his skillful hands as they were taking care of her now-so-unwanted heel. He had beautiful and strangely fragile hands. As for a man; she thought. And was skilled. And strong? It didn’t take him too long to make her both shoes matching again, and serving the purpose. He finally spoke. Nunnally was mesmerized by his voice. A myriad of questions appeared in her mind. As mysterious as the man seemed to her before, his voice had only make that feeling stronger. She was almost sure a faint pink found its way onto her cheeks; something that was quite common for her old “self” years ago (but now these years seemed like millennia), but wasn’t really happening recently. Up till now. Nunnally was not sure if she was embarrassed about it, or didn’t really care. It was just an accidental meeting. Probably it wouldn’t even end up with a conversation. And even if it would (and why did she really hope for that to happen?), it wouldn’t change anything. It wasn’t her true self. Just an imagine, an alter-ego she created, so why to bother what a stranger was to think? But surprisingly she did care. 

“Thank you…” – her voice seemed less confident to her than it did before; was she letting her old-self reappearing? But she had hidden that little, naïve and fragile girl deep inside for no-one to hurt her again – “Thank you, that’s so kind of you to help a stranger and want nothing in return.” – her voice now louder, but still laced with some hesitance and with curiosity – “It seems it wasn’t the first heel you had to remove…Are you always being a knight for ladies in need?”

Nunnally was ready to leave when he (surprisingly for her) accepted her invitation. An invitation that wasn’t truly offered to him…? Saying these words, offering him another drink, Nunnally hadn't been sure (although now she was) if she wanted them to share their time. But when the mysterious stranger invited her to stay, she quickly nodded with agreement (perhaps too quick as for her own liking).

“I am glad and yes, I do insist.” – she said, finding them to share a table together – “But you’d have to tell me what drink that was. It’s impossible to guess…for me.” – perhaps a more observant person would know? At least she’d remember for the next time. If there was going to be next time – “Unless you prefer something else?”

Yes, her name. She should now introduce herself. But that unexpectedly became a problem. Should she give him her real name? Nunnally usually wouldn’t. She was more inclined to give the one she used when… Well, when trying to be someone else. Nunnally or Mathilde. Mathilde or Nunnally.

“I am Nunnally.” – her hand reached towards Ghost; she wanted to feel his touch, although she didn’t understand why. She wanted to offer him something real, something genuine, although she didn’t understand why either  – “But you can call me Nun if you wish.” – again a sentence she didn’t understand. Like her lips were speaking before her mind could stop them. She had so many questions, but none of them was suitable to ask.

“I have been observing you for a few moments before I approached you.” – a little confession from her – “You stand out from the patrons of this café.” – as probably she did – “Are you from the city or just visiting?”   

“I quite like this place.” – she added out of the blue, perhaps to keep the conversation going – “I come here quite often. They serve one of the best coffee in this city. Are you a coffee drinker?” – was she revealing more than she intended with these simple sentences?

[lured-into-wonderland]

It was a beautiful sunset. The sky was painted in reds, yellows, pinks, and purples in all their shades. Nunnally stood at the castle window, hugging herself with her own arms as if to give herself some warmth. She was not admiring the sunset. Instead, she was looking over the defense walls, and the forest surrounding the fortress, towards the mountains looming on the horizon. Not only because they reminded her of a place she often considered her second home (her grandparents’ land that owned fealty to her), but also because her destiny lied somewhere behind them. Had she lost? Was it as unavoidable as it seemed? Or did she still have some room to play the game? To win the game? To turn these events into her own advantage? As her Lord Father would. A cold shiver run down her spine, when she thought about him. It wasn’t that Nunnally didn’t love him. Or was truly scared of him. On the contrary, after her grandparents’ death, her father was the only person who was important for her. Regis I; the first king of the united Ascon and Quellheim, the master of life and death, whose words equaled law. Her Lord Father. Nunnally knew he was despised as a tyrant, as a cruel and unforgiving individual, whose iron first united the previously torn kingdom into the rising power of the West. A man who made no mistakes. Apart from…her. She was the only stain on his otherwise perfect reign. A heiress and not a heir. A daughter and not a son.    

She suddenly remembered Frederick’s face when her betrothal to prince Leopold von Furchtlos was officially announced. A face of a winner, now almost sure he’d get to inherit the throne. But her cousin didn’t understand her Lord Father as well as she did. This was by no means a final decision. Or any decision at all. It might have sealed her fate, but it didn’t close the discussions of who was to become the next king. Her Lord Father was still young…he could still… No! Nunnally shook her head. No! She didn’t want to think about that. It might bring war and bloodshed. A rebellion. Perhaps. Or perhaps there was already another scheme, another agreement that she was not aware of. She knew it would be her duty to give heirs… She shivered again upon that thought; digging her nails into her palms to remain calm. She was to see her Lord Father soon for the evening meal, and the princess couldn’t have red eyes. The sign she was crying. The sign she was hopeless. The sign she could not accept her duties and her father’s will with dignity that was required from her. Nunnally was aware that she was nothing more than a tool for her father’s convenience, a thing to be traded or sold as her father desired. Her mother’s death, leaving her the only royal child of the Quellheim bloodline, gave her more power and more significance on her father’s chessboard, but obviously not enough to avoid the fate of the majority of royal daughters: the loveless marriages aimed to increase the kingdom’s power and connections, to produce heirs. She shook her head again.

Leopold von Furchtlos. Nunnally von Furchtlos. She didn’t like how these three words sounded together. She was aware she would be despised, perhaps even hated, at her new home. If she would ever be able to call that place ‘home���. She had met prince Leopold once. It was a brief meeting long time ago, before their union was even planned, but she didn’t remember a man she could…love? No, Nunnally! You cannot even think about love. That’s not something that you should reach for. Knowledge. Power. Independence. Agency. And freedom they could give. Focus on that. But…

But could she and Leopold aim at least for being friends? Or allies? Would her future husband be able to accept that his religion wasn’t hers? And never fully be? Yes, Nunnally was aware that she wouldn’t avoid conversion. That was a part of the marriage agreement, and the ambassadors had already provided her with teachers (priests she assumed) introducing her to the only true god. She allowed herself to laugh. It caused her lady-in-waiting to look at the princess with a slight surprise in her eyes, but no words followed. She knew that the princess was her father’s daughter, and she didn’t like to be challenged. Especially not during the time like now.

Nunnally felt that look on her back, but did nothing. Again turning to her own thoughts. No, she couldn’t accept the religion that expected her to be shy and timid. To expect her to be seen but not be heard. Not to be involved in politics and be limited to familial duties. She was born to be a Queen. Not a queen consort. A spark of rebellion in her heart. No, that would not be the end for her. Patience, Nunnally. You have to be patient. The less they know about you the better. Give them what they want to see. Give them what they want to get. And wait. Wait until the time is right.  

“It’s not the end…” – she muttered under her breath, but still quietly enough not to alarm her lady-in-waiting. She was almost never alone. The sun had almost set, but it didn’t seem her Lord Father had arrived from his short outing. She turned around and walked towards the mirror. She looked acceptable. Her hair was nicely done; the dress was elegant and made her look charming and fragile. It made it hard to breath, but that was probably of no-one’s concern. Would Leopold think she was pretty? Nunnally knew that was a foolish thought. But even if she was aware her look was not important for the union to happen, she couldn’t completely give up this hope that they could become something more than the two royal children forced together. Unlikely, but…not impossible? 

The noise outside the window caught her attention. Her Lord Father was back. It would soon be the time to meet for a meal. She went out of her chambers to the cloister that offered a perfect view of the yard. She was sure her father noticed her but didn’t offer her even a nod. If she were a son, she would be riding next to him instead of standing invisible in the cloisters. A fate of so many women before her. And a fate of so many women that would follow. Would she have a chance to change that? At least for herself?

Should she try to talk to him again? As soon as the thought had appeared, she rejected it. It wouldn’t bring anything good. The King had made his decision. Had announced it. And for the time being it was final. But she knew her Lord Father. Probably better than anyone else. Everyone knew what was on the surface. But what was the real plan beneath it? ( “Focus Nunnally, focus! You’re more like him than you think. Than anyone expects.”) She started to walk. So many questions. So few answers. So many unknowns. But what if she at least try to make them work in her favor? To control them? Her gaze wandered for the a brief moment towards the Southern borders on her kingdom. Alhazaria; the name appeared in her mind. Another unknown. With the rebellion bursting at the edges of Varsovania. But it was not a piece in her puzzle. At least not at this moment.

Oh, how wrong she was.

       The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue across the sprawling landscape of Alhazaria. Domínico stood atop the parapets of the Royal Alcazar of Zahran, his keen gaze sweeping over the kingdom he ruled. From this vantage point, he could see the diversity of his realm unfold before him — the rugged coastline stretching out along the Sapphire Sea, the rolling hills adorned with vineyards and olive groves, the majestic mountains towering in the distance, and the vast desert to the south with its shimmering sand dunes. It was a kingdom at the crossroads of two worlds, a place where the beauty of the sea met the allure of exotic landscapes.

       As he looked out, Domínico's mind drifted back through the pages of history, tracing the footsteps of those who had come before him. Alhazaria was not just a kingdom; it was a living tapestry woven with the threads of generations past. The legacy of his ancestors, their triumphs and struggles, was etched into every stone and grain of sand that made up this land. He recalled the stories of King Rashid and Queen Amira, rulers who had guided Alhazaria through turbulent times, and he felt a weight of responsibility that came with his position as the current monarch.

       The city below hummed with activity — the markets bustling, the distant cries of vendors, the murmurs of the people. It was a symphony of order, orchestrated by his meticulous rule. Domínico knew his subjects looked to him and relied on his intellect and stratagem to navigate the complexities of their world. He was a descendant of their gods, after all.

       Yet, as the sun's glow deepened, his thoughts turned to the shifting currents beyond Alhazaria's borders. The impending union of Nunally Ambly des Ayvelles and Leopold von Furchtlos was more than a marriage alliance; it was a doorway, an opportunity—a chance for war and expansion. The tension of religious disparities, the discord of ambitions — Domínico dissected these elements with the precision of a strategist, his mind a whirlwind of calculations.

       The clash of faiths, he pondered. The implications of an alliance forged on differences. He considered potential catalysts — a skirmish on the fringes of Ambly des Ayvelles' domain involving displaced polytheists seeking shelter. It was a thread he could pull, a seam he could unravel. A spark to ignite the flames of a calculated war, a war he desired for his own gain.

       His fingers traced the carvings on the parapet as he imagined various scenarios. The board was set, the pieces poised, and he played with them in his mind. The reasons for war — he could conjure them as easily as he breathed. The consequences, the strategies, the victory — all painted with the strokes of his ambition.

       As the sun sank lower, Domínico's thoughts turned to Ángel, his younger brother. The brother he saw potential in, an uncut gem that could be honed and shaped to serve the kingdom's ambitions. In which way he was yet to decide, but just like with anyone in the kingdom, Domínico would find a purpose for him.

       " Your Grace, " Thoughts were brought to a halt and he was greeted by a familiar face — his loyal friend and confidant, Luciano. Luciano bowed slightly before meeting Dominico's gaze. " You seem preoccupied. "

       " Luciano, " Domínico greeted with a nod, his eyes fixated on the kingdom sprawled below, a land ripe with potential. " You've seen the shifts in the alliances, the brewing tensions at our borders. The marriage between prince Leopold and princess Nunally — it's an opening. "

       Luciano's brow furrowed as he studied Domínico's expression. " An opening for what, Your Grace? "

       Domínico's lips curved into a shrewd smile, a glint of determination in his eyes. " For expansion, my friend. Our realm has stood strong for generations, our history is etched with resilience. But the time has come to seize the moment, to grow beyond our current borders. "

       Luciano's gaze held a mix of understanding and concern. " Are we prepared for the consequences, Your Grace? War, bloodshed — those are not easy paths to tread. "

       Domínico's eyes remained unwavering, his voice resolute. " Every great ruler in history has faced such choices. The world bows to power, my friend. Our military is strong, our alliances won't fail us — I've made sure of that, and our people are loyal. "

       Luciano nodded slowly, his gaze distant as if contemplating the implications. " Even if they're loyal, will they stand with you in war after so many years of peace? I can imagine some being against it, and internal conflict will make us vulnerable — if it comes to it. "

       Domínico's expression softened, his tone carrying a hint of empathy. " Change is never easy, Luciano. But our realm's progress, its advancement—that will be our legacy. We will lay the foundations for a future that resonates through the ages. That is something the people will fight for, and they will if I'm the one doing the talking. "

       Luciano's lips quirked into a thoughtful smile. " You've always had a gift for turning adversity into advantage. "

       Domínico chuckled, a mixture of pride and amusement in his eyes. " It's what makes a ruler. We must adapt, evolve, and master the art of the unexpected. "

       " And what do you propose, Your Grace? " Luciano inquired, his curiosity piqued.

       Domínico's gaze grew intense, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the parapets. " We must explore every avenue, seek out weaknesses in our potential foes, and build a case for our actions. Political moves, diplomatic gambits, calculated alliances—all leading to a unified front. "

       Luciano nodded, a renewed determination gleaming in his eyes. " It shall be done as you wish. I'll send the word to those that need to hear it. You have my unwavering support, as always. "

       Domínico's smile seemed genuine, but even with their bond of trust and shared purpose, Luciano had always been someone Domínico used. " I'd be grievously wounded if I didn't, " he quipped.

       As night descended upon the kingdom, Domínico retreated into the depths of the palace, his mind a tempest of thoughts and plans. The future awaited, a tapestry waiting to be woven — one where faith, alliance, and ambition would converge in ways neither he nor the realm could predict. However, that didn't mean he couldn't control all of it. / @lured-into-wonderland

[distopea]

Find someone like @aurorxaeternitatis who comes back from the dead, knocks on your door down with a THREE PAGES OF WORD DOC with your wishlist brightened up with dozens of plots ideas matching and intertwining various characters 😩🖤

It's good you're not always active, my brain can't contain your fucking menace fusgudfy

[cantuscorvi]

Why Aren’t We Roleplaying? ❦ - You seem so busy … @bottleofbabes @deathleads @aurorxaeternitatis @mauerfrau

Alright, I got this reason from a bunch of you so I thought it's better to group the answer instead of repeating myself a lot lmao, hope you don't mind!

Just wanna preface with -- if I'm following you, I'm invested in your characters, your content, your writing, your musings, or even your shitposts. I'm interested in interacting with you, but maybe we've tried before and it didn't work out properly. Most likely it's my fault, and I forgot to respond somehow bc my ADHD brain is full of holes. ( This is also a trend in my personal life and it pisses people off or makes them think I don't care. I totally understand. All I can do is ask for your patience with it and trust that I don't mean anything bad by it. )

I guess, it's less about being super busy and more having focus or energy. I work, I'm in a different time zone, and I am all over the place when it comes to activity. For that reason I stopped following new people and seeking out new interactions because I felt like I just kept disappointing them and myself. These days I try not to make excuses and just write when I can, otherwise I will just get upset over my "to-do list" and not have any fun. And I want to have fun here!

SO. All that said. If you are up for it, I am always happy to start something new, carry on something we had before, or try again. If you wanna discuss things, throw rocks at Raum, or even just yell at me for being a dumbass and forgetting to reply to you, I am usually on discord -- so I'm inviting you there -- Rain#6026 !

[ensuists-moved]

@aurorxaeternitatis ✯ s.c.

❝ I've heard a lot about you, so it's a pleasure to finally meet you in person. I hope you don't mind if we discuss business right now--do you mind if I call you Alexander?? ❞

[dckja]

@aurorxaeternitatis​​  /  sc.

            the parlor is nestled in a small neighborhood  ,  unsuspecting and with a name that’s misleading  .  it’s not large  ,  perhaps able to cater up to a small handful of clients within it  .  it’s not a place someone can just stumble upon  ,  it’s not flashy nor outstanding  .  the storefront seemed to just fit in with the neighborhood aesthetic  .  just from the name  ,  people would think of it to be a small coffee shop or a small stationery store . . . until they walk in to be greeted with artwork on the wall  ,  two tattoo beds in the back behind screens and a simple counter at the front  .             it’s not a place that seemed to hail a lot of clients  ,  people would say it’s BAD marketing but dokja preferred it that way  .  he liked the quiet  ,  he liked the chill atmosphere  .  he didn’t like rowdy clients  --  he’s never been great with confrontation  --  and with the clients he already has  ,  they feed him well  .  that’s all he really needs  .  sometimes a random person would walk in  ,  sometimes it’s people who heard of this place via other clients . . . dokja preferred this lowkey way of advertising  .  he wanted people here because he and sooyoung’s work is worthy to be spoken of  ,  not because they were FLASHY and bright  .             today  ,  dokja is sat at the front counter  ,  minding the store  .  his best friend is out gathering supplies to restock their ink and hygiene items  ,  he’s not really expecting any clients for the day  ;  but  , he still sits at the front  ,  yet his eyes isn’t watching people walking by  ,  rather glued to the book he had opened  ,  absorbed into the novel he has before him  .  that’s the quirky thing about dokja’s parlor . . .              instead of trashy gossip magazines on the coffee table or obnoxious pieces of art decorating the wall  ,  the inside seemed clean  --  almost new  --  and neat  ,  BRIGHT instead of the usual dark associated with downtown parlors  .  an almost coffee shop aesthetic that it’s misleading to many who peer into the store and could only see the front and not the ink beds at the back  .  the wall is lined with bookshelves of various novels  ,  some in foreign languages  ,  but all of them are well worn and very much loved  .  hence the parlor is aptly named THE LIBRARY  .  truthfully  ,  dokja also didn’t mind if someone wanted to drop in and just wanted to select a book to read  ,  it’s why he also decided to add a few more chairs and tables to the front . . . sooyoung had made fun of him for this choice  ,  insinuating that maybe he should hire a barista next  .  the store simply reflected it’s co-owner’s heart . . . a lover of books  ,  a gentle reader with a lot of passion and creativity  .               when the doorbell rings to signal someone entering the shop  ,  dokja’s head lifts from his novel and he’s greeted with a man who seemed . . . out of place  .  not because it’s a gentleman in a SUIT standing in a tattoo parlor  ,  it’s a gentleman in a suit standing in this particular store  .  the question  ‘  are you lost  ??  ’  hangs on the reader’s tongue  ,  but it doesn’t make it past his lips  .  slipping a bookmark into the novel  --  he’s been chewed out about dog earring the pages  --  and shutting it  ,  dokja slips off his stool and offers a smile to the man  .             “  something i can help you with  ,  sir  ??  ”  he asks  ,  the other didn’t seem to be here for a book  ,  but he also didn’t seem the type to get tattoos  --  though perhaps that’s a stereotype that had been ingrained into dokja . . . that businessmen are respectable people that would never do something so outrageous as putting something taboo on their skin  .  ‘  don’t judge a book by it’s cover  ’  ,  he reminds himself  .

[changqwi]

@aurorxaeternitatis​  /  lore sc.

            “  that’s . . . well  ,  not something i’ve heard of  ,  i’ll be honest  ,  ”  arwen says  ,  pondering on the other’s words  ,  “  i’ve been to many places in my travels . . . but i’ve yet to hear of such things  .  are you sure it’s not just a rumor  ??  ”

[luxiferiicae]

@aurorxaeternitatis​  ♡’𝐝   𝐟𝐨𝐫  𝐚  𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖎𝖈 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖗.

Nights — Frank Ocean to Alexander.

❛❛        𝑎    𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒    𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑    𝑖𝑛    𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑟    ❟        and    Hades    turned    lilac    hues    onto    his    companion,    observing    the    subtle    nuances    of    the    other    man.    He    doesn’t    get    long    to    sit    and    observe,    before    someone    somewhere    is    vying    for    his    attention.    there’s    only    a    select    few    people    that    have    any    sense    floating    somewhere    between    their    ears,    but    those    people    head    their    own    distinct    part    of    the    business    as    is.    Unfortunately,    the    left    were    all    little    peons    running    poor    Yuujin    ragged    with    the    smallest    of    things.    He    wasn’t    entirely    sure    he’d    even    be    able    to    sit    and    speak    to    the    other    man    about    business.    It    might    be    Nekoya    that    continued,    and    the    thought    ...    the    thought    alone    was    frightening.    His    second    was    not    not    the    most    palatable    person    in    the    world    in    any    sense    of    the    word.

Yuujin    waves    off    the    tabletop    dealer    with    a    face    that    doesn’t    reveal    much    of    anything    at    all    —    only    the    tired    rings    around    his    eyes    seem    to    tell    any    sort    of    tale.        ❛    Round    your    city,    round    the    clock    everybody    needs    you,    ❜    spoken    as    if    amused,    but    he’s    growing    only    more    annoyed    the    more    times    he    keeps    being    interrupted.    It    was    only    a    short    time    before    someone    ended    up    fired,    or    dead.

[zahraalgernon]

@aurorxaeternitatis​ started following

      Loki let out a soft hum, noticing the figure drawing closer into their peripherals. Their steps slowed to a stop and they turned their head just enough to see the figure completely. So familiar, they were sure, it would be foolish to think otherwise, no matter what tricks and otherwise could be said.

      “ You know...I thought I would be the one to be more likely to stalk behind an old friend without saying a word, not you. ”

[redlips-blooddrops-deux]

reply for @aurorxaeternitatis

Nikolai’s warning came off as a rather welcoming surprise,  she had a hunch that they were likeminded, his words of caution was proof of that. Still, she simply nodded  as she made a step in the room with head high and shoulders down. Despite not wearing  a gown she would always keep the pristine image of a diva, her potential employer might dislike that, but why would she lower herself?

The blue eyes laid upon Alexander, studying the man careful as she reached to shake his hand, firm yet gentle squeeze.  “Pleasure is all mine  monsieur.  “ she replied with a charming grin across the blood red lips. “And rest assured your partner here was simply filling me in with few details.... “ to which she glanced over Nikolai with corner of her eyes, he might not appreciate that little quip from her but she cant  herself be a little bit cheeky.

Wine was more then welcomed, seeing  the look form the hazel eyed devil she simply smirked at him, a bit wider than normal. 

“Ah straight to business, wonderful, I do dislike wasting time  “ she added with soft hum pressing her back against the cushy seat behind her while crossing her long legs.  His question was on point indeed, and she prided herself in paying close attention to her sources and connections so she would be able to make bold claims. “ I would say that around 80% of artwork  I was able to take hold of is in fact original.  Forgive me if I sound like a braggart but as an art appreciator it is my goal to do proper research “ also she was  greedy as a magpie. Small glint in her eyes was proof of that. 

Once the wine arrived she took hold of the glass, daintily with her fingertips holding it in such way that it could break if she applies too much pressure.  “In last couple of years it has been my goal to track several lost paintings during the Nazi  occupation, several of them are in my possession....however they are rather valuable in not only material aspect if you understand what I mean “he most likely did. 

This statement may have been too bold, might even leave sour taste in Alexander’s mouth, but she thrived  in risks even if it could damage her own image a bit. 

[jaiguilian]

@aurorxaeternitatis​​ ( aeon ) started following

      “ I don’t suppose you were looking to buy one of these fine masks?~ ”

      Mian Ju, currently a human named Juu, stood with masks hanging off her suit. And now look at this! Someone of interest, someone who looked...So curious, and she could feel herself being drawn in to at least have a conversation! And she craved that face. Picking up one of her masks--it resembled a komainu from Wano.

      “ You seem like someone who would crave the sense of lions~ With pride as bright as gold! A grand strength beyond comprehension...and at a cheap price, too~ ”

[redlips-blooddrops-deux]

Ah there it was, that cold calculated line of questioning that would most likely fit an inquisitor in the middle ages, though perhaps just a tad bit less violent. Nevertheless, she was not surprised that he would question her words and character, frankly if he would not do  that it would truly be disappointing. After all, a challenge like this was welcomed in her eyes and was eager to take the gamble, win or loose,  it was one of the few thrills of life!

Calm despite being placed in a spotlight, she did not shy away from it but rather took joy in it while she too leaned in her own seat, cold blue eyes remaining on the man across her. “Of course, that much is indeed well known. Such a tragedy that there is indeed so many fake art pieces out there....but then again one does have to admire the artists who are  audacious enough to even try to copy the masters and make  profit wouldn't you agree? “ she asked with a brow risen. It was a small hint, after all to be in this kind line of work, you had to be just a healthy dose of greedy and crafty. 

And she knew quite a few crafty individuals....

She did feel Nikolai’s gaze, simply an observer for now but she still wanted to give him an entertaining show. However she did tilt her head to the side a bit appearing almost as a large lazy cat, oh so he did had some specific works in mind? Well well, he was also a bit greedy wasnt he? “For your first painting lets say I am familiar with it and working on attaining it, but The reading girl in white and yellow?  Monsieur, that  one is still rumored to not even exist anymore considering it has been destroyed according to the medias.... “ without shame she reaches for a cigar box from her coat simply to pull out a stick and place it between her lips. 

“However, there are some more reliable rumors in regards to it. You just have to find the right source for it, and  that is not media of course “

        As the conversation unfolded, Lilith's bold claims hung in the air, challenging the very essence of her proposed business deal. Alexander's blue eyes bore into her, a mix of skepticism and curiosity. It was clear that her words had struck a chord, and he wasn't about to take them at face value.

        With a calculated finesse, he leaned back slightly in his seat, his demeanor composed but probing. " Miss Bellerose, " he began, his tone measured, " the art world is rife with both authenticity and forgery. Original pieces, especially those with historical significance, tend to find their homes in museums or esteemed private collections. " His words were diplomatic yet laden with a hint of challenge.

        He paused, letting the weight of his statement settle between them before continuing. " The rate of fakes is staggering, and claiming to have secured a significant number of original pieces raises questions. How have you managed to acquire such artworks, considering their rarity and protected status? " His eyes bore into her, searching for any sign of hesitation or inconsistency.

        Nikolai observed the interaction with keen interest. He understood that Alexander was navigating the thin line between caution and confrontation. Lilith's audacious claims had triggered Alexander's skepticism. He was not merely questioning the authenticity of the art pieces; he was probing into Lilith's character and credibility.

        Nikolai had seen Alexander in such situations before, piercing through the layers of words to uncover the hidden truths. In this exchange, Alexander's suspicion seemed to be growing, and a perceptible imbalance was beginning to emerge. The scales were tipping against Lilith, not solely due to the doubts cast upon her claims, but also because her audacity and the boldness of her statements were inviting deeper scrutiny – a crime against art itself while calling oneself an art appreciator. Nikolai had to smile at that.

        However, his lips remained sealed, his role as an observer preventing him from intervening in the exchange. He understood that this moment was pivotal and that the direction of their potential business deal hung in the balance. As Alexander's next question followed, Nikolai's hazel eyes flickered between the two figures before him, silently acknowledging the shifting dynamics and the weight of Alexander's internal questioning.

        " Do forgive my skepticism, Miss Bellerose, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt regarding your claims. Do you perchance have Rembrandt's Philosopher in Contemplation and Matisse's Reading Girl in White and Yellow? " / @redlips-blooddrops-deux

[distopea]

Kafka as the cherry on top.

@aurorxaeternitatis bingo post / not accepting

Sure it could be tempting, but at this point, it felt like an immense trap displayed in front of his eyes. Gabriele huffed and gripped his cigarette, denying to see how much one criminal could ever be so close from a perfect bingo. No, it wasn't reasonable...

"I believe you lied to fit things, or if not, this is very much concerning. But from my perspective, half of a brat is definitely not true. Please, be kind to yourself and cross it fully." He paused and stared at Kafka. "Lying doesn't suit you at all."

[eyesofcuriosity]

@aurorxaeternitatis

It was still peak of the summer season, people going out and about  trying to fulfill their daily lives with whatever sort of activities they can. That was despite the scorching Sun,  those less brave and a bit more worried about skin complexion either decided to remain in safety of their homes under the AC. While others even if outside sought out the protection under the shade of whatever tall object or tree they could find. 

Parks especially were filled with the people having outdoor picnics, vlogging or pretending to be similar to the hippies from 60s. 

It was all an interesting sight to the pair of jade eyes hidden beneath the shade of large willow tree. With a lofi music playing in headphones, a book in her lap, the petite brunette leaned her back against the tree. Days like these almost fitted the very page of book she was holding, maybe in a bit modern setting, but peaceful nevertheless. 

Humming the soft tune she briefly returns the gaze to the pages of book she was reading. ‘Anne of Green gables’ classic that she has read many times over the years, yet she still loved going back to  the  simple yet dramatic world of this book. With care she would flip the pages, scooting a bit ever so slightly to fix the skirt of her sundress.  

Lost in thoughts she barely pays mind to her surroundings, unless of course someone would attempt to break her away from daydreaming. 

[ensuists-moved]

@aurorxaeternitatis​ ✯ s.c. ( wren & taehyung )

❝ Would you mind showing me how to do that part of the routine again?? I feel like my feet are moving so clumsily!! ❞ With a sheepish and humble smile, Wren demonstrates said movement for a moment, a small pout forming as his feet simply can’t pick up the pace for it. ❝ You really make it look so fluid and effortless that I’m almost jealous!! ❞