#inionnarequiem

[sonderrow]

🩸 @inionnarequiem.

He's listening. Maybe it's the tea. Maybe it's the forest or the impromptu magic lesson. But it's one of those rare glimpses where he witnesses her mentioning something more specific rather than mysteriously generic (oh and does he knows what that is) about herself and her experiences.

"I don't see why someone would have this much beef with you to make it last through bitterness through decades. Although you like to bite, overall you're rather mundane to be around."

Did he mean it as an insult? Absolutely. She does tend to be boring to him, not that boring is inherently an awful thing. Why did he word it like this then? He's Archer. It's not because the moment is seemingly softer that he has to be soft too.

"Didn't you say we'd be more than two? I thought this... I think it's this guy, this cousin of yours?" He shrugs, reminiscing a good while back having met the other redhead young man who looked a whole lot like this one.

[sorte-de-vida]

@inionnarequiem sent: Setting 040- on a rocky cliffside by the sea (for the historical prompts); - Let's see these two knuckleheads catfight lol

It's impossible not to notice the flaming red locks of the woman he sought . This is one of few times that his landing for a woman was not for kind measures, though surely it would bring him immense pleasure. He feels as if he can read her mind, what she believes to be the situation. Spanish flag, Spanish ship, João; whom she likely believes to be Antonio. The hat helps him in this scenario, from a distance he knows that he and Antonio are hard to distinguish, though rather than the reds Antonio tended to cloth himself in, he himself wore tones of blues and greens, or perhaps even black on occasion. Today, it was black, black as the pestilence across the wretched land and his burning hatred for this woman who had caught his husband's eye, his husband's affection.

There are some things João simply cannot abide by.

Even from here he can see the smile that blooms on her face, and while she is at a distance even he cannot deny that she appeared lovely, but not even beauty could stave off his anger. Besides, she was rebelling against Arthur as well, hadn't she been? Though he might not be able to support Arthur from within his marriage, there were other forms of support.

He would meet her on that rocky cliff, and she would be too dull to realize that he was not Antonio until it was too late. João was always most effective at close quarters, with two blades in hand, a man of swiftness above all else. His dexterity with the blades were a stark contrast to Antonio's axe, slower but with distance.

He smiles like death up at her, and foolishly she smiles back.

There's no doubt in his mind she would wait there as he disappears into the sea of bodies along the dock, and he lets the crew deal with the unloading. After all, he might be a sailor, but he was no common worker. As he climbs the path, his mind drifts not only through what he will say and do once he reaches her at the top, but also what his dear Arthur has said.

Savage, uncivilized, hussy… Certainly he can agree with the last point, this women has been cozying up to his husband after all. He doesn't know exactly how long, but Antonio simply couldn't help himself but to brag— nor did he care enough to even worry if João had overheard.

In fact, João is almost 95% sure that he actually intended for him to hear. The two of them certainly had habits of trying to rile the other up, to spark the others wild (and often violent) jealousy. Plus, its clear he doesn't care much for the woman, just another pawn in his greater scheme to be a thorn in the Englishman's side.

Before he knows it, he's at the apex of the cliff, the ginger locked woman so close. In his minds eye he envisions grabbing her by those flaming long strands and hurling her from the cliffs, to stand above and watch as she plummets into the dark and unforgiving ocean, slammed against that rocky cliff…

But he refrains for now. No, he wanted to see what this woman was truly about. He wants to see her mettle. It took either a fool, or someone exceptionally iron willed to cross Arthur— sometimes a healthy mix of the two. He can tell that now, this close, that she has realized that he is not the man that she anticipated.

"Ah, so good to finally meet the… Woman that we have aligned ourselves with." The word woman is practically spat out, as if he considers her to be less than a woman in spite of what he says. His words curl around the words similarly to Antonio's, but there's a certain distinction. Where Antonio lisps, João's is more of a shushing noise, his tone lazy and drawn out in contrast to Antonio's rapid speech. Regardless of his words, it's clear by every other aspect of him that he is not at all happy to be here, from the set of his tense shoulders, the blazing of his hazel eyes, and most importantly, the hand that rests on the hilt of his blade.

[decinisinfedeli]

just a fun little character game. fill in the below categories with 3-5 things that your character can be identified by. repost & tag away !

emotions / feelings:

— Wrath — Disillusionment — Famished — Hollowness

colours:

— The colours of flames — Deep emerald Green — Black like his teeth — Bone White like his fingers

scents:

— Smoke and Ashes — The metallic smell of Blood — The smell of cold — Marigolds

objects:

— The cane with a hidden sword — A mask of silver with a matching set of ear-rings — A collar of leather that winds tightly around his whole throat. — Oldfashioned clothes that seem from a time long gone.

body language:

—  Hands held together in a prayer motion —  Silent stares hidden behind a mask, often with a smile —  Pulling on his hair to tighten the tie holding it up. —  Standing almost unnaturally still and straight. —  The soft tapping of a cane onto the ground.

aesthetics:

— Smouldering ashes and red hot embers — Completely dark forests with only a glint of light. — Churches long falling apart and overgrown. — A monster lurking like a predator in the shadows — Long hallowed halls with a lot of history that no longer are as visited as they once were.

emotions / feelings:

— Loathing — Violent — Antipathy — Stubborness

colours:

— A soft Grey — Coral pink — Aqua blue — The glint of silver

scents:

— The smell of a drowsy animal — A metallic smell — The salt laced smell of sweat — The smell of Marigold and aloe vera

objects:

—  A baseball bat of metal — A black cap — A small bottle of nailpolish. — Repurposed knee cap protectors after an ‘incident’

body language:

—  Prideful straightbacked-ness. —  Glaring at those looking at him. —  Slouching away when send off, hands in pockets. —  Crouching on the balls of his feet.  —  Rubbing fingers over each other. 

aesthetics:

— A growl of anger — Vengance for a selfish purpose.  — Blindness to the truth until it is far too late. — Distaste for all that once was. 

Tagged by: @inionnarequiem Thank you! It was fun to do.  Tagging: --

[sonderrow-moved]

@inionnarequiem​ :

Vick let out a soft grunt as his full weight fell into her, and had she been one iota less than who or what she was she would have probably dropped him. But she wasn't. Still, having a naked vampire going unconscious on her wasn't... ideal.

"Alright pet, let's get you to bed then... don't get any ideas..." she muttered, uncaring whether he heard her or not as she shifted his weight over her shoulders in a sort of fireman's hold that wouldn't agitate his injuries. Standing up like this was still a challenge, given her diminutive height and his greater weight.

Eventually, she was able to transport him from bathroom to bedroom with little hassle, laying him down and quickly making sure he was covered and decent. She'll get some of her brother's clothes for him tomorrow. Looking down at his face and then down at his wounds again, she sighed.

"I know you hate it, but, you might heal a wee bit quicker if you drank me blood... just figured I'd offer."

“Hmph... you’d like that way too much, don’t you ?” Now he was going delirious from the blood loss, eyes hazy and head incredibly blurred. Archer sighed as he laid on his back, feeling like he would never be able to get off that bed, really. “I’m kidding, Victoria, give me your wrist...”

Fangs slowly sank into the flesh of the woman’s inner wrist, causing its initial sharp pain similar to a large shot before the mixed poison of anesthetic and aphrodisiac spread through her muscles, nerves and bloodstream. The raven’s pupils grow a bright red and there is no way for him to stop his animal instincts to fully emanate his hypnosis, causing momentary obsession and submission to his person, which is usually used to gaslight a prey to truly, deeply desire to be his in the moment.

Although he did weakly feed, like absentmindedly eating his meal due to his state... which just caused him to take his sweet time ; after all, she did offer, to pull back and saying he had enough would be so arrogant when he was so physically vulnerable... Just a way for Archer to have power at every corner.

[damnprussia]

❝ that was my last cigarette. ❞ //from @inionnarequiem bc VICK IS BACK BABBY

“That sucks.” Gilbert lights up and takes a long drag, exhaling slowly, staring at her. “Smoking is bad for you, though. You can get like...cancer, and stuff.” He nods. “Very serious stuff, you know. Could kill you.”

[governmentofficial]

‘ no one talks down to me. ‘ //from @inionnarequiem aka the Northern Ireland to Salt's England/London

Enjoy~

𝚝𝚑𝚎   𝚒𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚜   𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚜.

Mycroft was in a bad mood. This, of course, was not unusual. The man had his good days, yes, but they were rather rare - stress and general irritation constant factors in his day to day life, typically caused by either his brother or his work. Today, the latter was his reason for paying Arthur a visit, Mycroft wanting his opinion on an ongoing matter.

What he hadn't expected when he arrived was to find the mind out and, in his stead, somebody else answering the door. Having worked together before, he was aware of who Victoria was. Clearly she and Arthur were friends, explaining her presence in the home.

Hm.

Mycroft didn't like it. He was perfectly aware that his impulsive dislike of the situation was irrational, just as he was perfectly aware that Arthur was allowed to have friends, but... Well, he had never really learnt to share, had he? Seeing someone he counted as a friend with somebody else made him feel rather jealous.

He hadn't meant to be impolite - wrongfully possessive or not, he still knew his place - but it had just slipped out. When Victoria had asked if she could help, Mycroft had responded with a rather dismissive "No, I don't think you can."

This had clearly been a mistake, one that he immediately regretted somewhat. Obviously he couldn't back down completely - that would be showing weakness - but, in order to be professional, he was aware that he needed to quickly get a grip on himself and apologise.

"My apologies, ma'am. What I meant to say was no, I don't believe that you can, considering that this is not a matter regarding your own territory."

[corpusdxlicti]

HOW DO YOU BEST LIKE TO BE LOVED ?

‘touch me with tender truth’

you crave being known and held. you just want the warmth and pressure of another body against your own. sometimes, late at night when you're alone in your bed, your skin aches with the lack of touch. you've tried touching yourself, and it isn't the same.

one time someone gripped your shoulder and squeezed it in passing, and you thought about it for weeks after - the ghost pressure of their hand lingering. don't you deserve it? consistent physical love and caring? i think so, i think you do. but i also have to ask - do you fear it even as you want? after all, if you get it then it might also be taken away. 

i hope that if you fear it, you push through past that fear. that you ask for the touch you desire and deserve. i hope that you get touched with love and kindness, wrapped up in warm arms and rocked from side to side until the tension and pain falls away layer by layer and only you are left.

Tagged by: @hhemeraa​ tagging: @encgma​ / @saintslaughter​ / @requiemofjojo​ / @victeux​ / @inionnarequiem​

[diimsum]

"I wonder what they think when they see me." //from @inionnarequiem

Jhin Sentence Starters!

“They think of you as a strong young woman, most likely. One I certainly wouldn’t want to pick a fight with on the street.” A chuckle can be heard coming from him, and his face softens. 

“Ultimately, I’m sure what they ultimately see is potential, just as I do.”

[mimomentomori]

To all RP blogs following me here at my personal:

Firstly, I do appreciate it, however, I can’t keep track of who’s following me for interactions that way. Secondly, I never reblog any of my starter calls/memes to my main as the stuff I do post/share here are entirely for my personal benefit. So, if you are an RP blog and want to interact, PLEASE FOLLOW ONE OR BOTH OF MY SIDE BLOGS

@inionnarequiem or @nosferatuxxx

That’s where the memes and starters and plots are. 

Cheers~

Rico~

[sonderrow-moved]

@inionnarequiem​​ :

They felt their blood run a bit cold at the familiar voice, calm mask almost cracking as 'Brendon' laid eyes on Archer for the first time. Shit, of course the one time he serves at the bar is the night that she planned to be there to get her mark! Still, just because Victoria knew him didn't mean 'Brendon' had to as well. Besides, this would be a fun little experience to laugh about later.

Brendon accepted his drink with a gracious smile and met Archer's eyes with a pleased gleam, raising his glass slightly. "Much obliged mate, but I think I rather like the view I got here." Feeling a tad cheeky, Brendon sent his gracious host a wink. Take that as you will.

Still, even as 'he' sipped his drink gingerly, she couldn't help but keep flicking her gaze back to the one Fang in this establishment she was sure she'd never have to stake in her long life God willing. Of course, she kept an eye out for her Mark but, Archer's presence... complicated things.

And then he had to go and open with that line.

Brendon paused, peering up at Archer with calculating eyes before smirking. "Aye, you can say we're closely related. If you know wee Vick then you must be the famous Fang I've heard all about... she failed to mention that you were easy on the eyes as well as being a decent sort... all things considered of course." Inside Victoria felt her heart leap into her throat at such a bold flirtation, but something about being in the suit and acting this way gave her a confidence in this place that her normal way of being lacked. Besides, may as well have a little fun if Archer truly didn't recognize her dressed like this.

It was subtle, but at the other’s words, Archer’s eyes did widen the tiniest bit, actually flustered by the compliment. This person was... quite androgynous. It wasn’t that Archer, whose sense of observation was one of his sharpest skills, was blind that this person could be Victoria... the matter was, he was sure this wasn’t her because he couldn’t picture the lady in such a getup, hiding part of her womanly identity at all. And, well, given that not every second of the vampire’s life was life or death with the deadliest amount of stress (at least, not anymore), he stopped his thoughts at that ; he was a tired, tired man, no use overthinking every little things... even if he wanted to.

“The Fang has a name.” Although his wording may have been quite harsh, his tone was neutral, not aggressive. It was only proper etiquette for him. “It’s Kessler for you, sir.”

Rolling his sleeves up his forearms, Archer’s fingers swiftly moved through the clean glasses, carefully placing them on the hanger above their head, the soft clinking mixing in with the ambient music.

“Well, I hope the vicinities are to your taste ; shared friend or not, you’re still a valuable patron and I am your provider, let me know if you need anything. Do not hesitate to come at another time with Victoria either... are you here for long ? I can make a reservation to our hotel if needed.”

He looked at the redhead up and down again, not minding if this was noticeable or not... what an interesting encounter.

[damnprussia]

❛ i’m not ready to lose you yet. ❜ //from @inionnarequiem because I feel like pain also HI!!!!!

"Oh, I'm fine, It's just a bit of blood." Gilbert was definitely bleeding a lot, but he managed to stand up anyways, clutching his side. Okay, maybe there was a little bit more than blood. "You should see the other guy!" he seemed to say that every time, and it always accompanied a cheeky grin.

"How'd you find me anyways? I didn't tell anyone I was in Belfast."

@inionnarequiem