#theselfproclaimedprince

[the-lady-oneill]

Ultana picked Sinead up to head to the market district around four in the morning. It was imperative that they get to the Sarkhii market very early, while the slaves were fresh and before everyone else had a chance to pick them over. She had called ahead to her favorite vendor, Lukas, and told him what she was looking for. Ultana expected that he had set aside plenty of prospects for her and Sinead to look at.

As they sat in the little zipline cab, Lethe poured them coffee.

Ultana picked up her cup and sipped at it, then asked: "We'll find staff first, and then head to the textile market to find you some more clothes. What are your favorite colors?"

[xfirstbcrn]

After they had gotten home and Joelle was safe in her bedroom, Seamus went down to his office and shut the door.

He took another good half-hour there to cry, and unwind all the stress built up in his body. After that, when he felt like his voice would be clear enough not to immediately worry Sinead, he called her.

As a rule, he didn't like to call Sinead when she was working, but he felt this counted as a sort of emergency.

[runawaymun-rp]

@the-self-proclaimed-prince

“I know. It’s so annoying that I have to wait ‘til I’m eighteen.” Unlike her grandmother, Joelle had no reservations about eating.  “Was it hard leaving your friends and family in Ireland?” She couldn’t imagine how awful it would be if her parents sent her away to a boarding school overseas - even if it was for her own safety.

Maeven batted that notion away as ridiculous.

"Of course not. I wanted nothing more than to go to France. There was far more opportunity there than there was here on this little hunk of rock."

[house-tyrconnell]

It was three AM by the time Rory returned home with bloodied knuckles, blood on his coat. The police had been called for the disturbance. Both Memphis and Turlough had been called down to the station to collect their sons. It was done.

Rory let himself into Shina’s room. Atarah stirred and came out, ready to tell off whomever it was, but went straight back to bed when she saw him.

He sat on the edge of Shina’s bed and touched her shoulder.

“Shina.” 

[exsousiis]

Delta hadn’t been Below since LevTek. His stomach felt strange as the cab made its descent. He leaned his head on the window, watching the cab drop down the Feadan, weaving through the traffic.

Ena. Sinead had promised him that they were going to Cavan, not the science district. She had promised him that it was nothing medical. It was psychotherapy, or something. He chewed on his lip, picking at the edges of his sleeves.

That strange feeling in his stomach got worse the farther down they went. 

“How far is it to Cavan?” 

[aeterniis]

@the-self-proclaimed-prince

Aedon wasn’t picking up his cell. It was the wrong time of day where they were for him to, anyway. They were due back in less than a month. She wished now, more than ever, that he was here.

She didn’t want to call Maggie, Maggie would have one answer for her and one answer only. If Aedon wasn’t picking up, then neither would Bandsidhe. That left one person she could call.

She set the test down next to the other three on the counter next to the toliet. All of them had two, bright pink, awful lines.

Kamala’s hands shook as she dialed Sinead’s number and waited for her to pick up. 

[ofviolentdeath]

@the-self-proclaimed-prince​ liked for a starter

New faces were becoming more and more common and Cord was beginning to wonder if this had anything to do with one of the kids. It happened from time to time, an influx of new folks coming across her little speck on the map and stirring up all kinds of new and exciting trouble. 

“Ain’t no weapons permitted inside my bar but it yer unarmed, pick yer poison,” she greeted, gesturing at the sign and shelves of liquor behind her. 

[normaltothemax]

@the-self-proclaimed-prince 

“My dude, my guy, I don’t think you understand just how much I don’t care.” Mean? Maybe a little, but she’s too hungover to care.

[ericbrandonrp]

@the-self-proclaimed-prince​ asked: // For that MuMu ask meme: 2, 5, 9, and 23 ^.^

Asks for people with a multimuse or multiple rp blogs || accepting: YES

// ......I will not tell you what “MuMu” means in German......

2 - Which muse(s) do you wish had more interactions?

// Right now, my new muse Alexander. I actually made a sideblog fo him, too, but I also write him on this very blog here if people want. He’s Eric’s landlord and neighbour, and also a hitman. And he loves jokes. The dumber, the better.

5 - Name a muse you wish to write in the future. What’s your favourite thing about this muse?

// I don’t actually think that far ahead. The thing with muses is that they show up suddenly and without a word of warning. And I really don’t intend to write any canon characters anytime soon.

9 - Which of your muses do you most identify with? Why?

// Definitely Eric! Somewhat. At least I’d like to think so haha We’re both from Munich and fun-loving. We like the same style of clothes. We’re both probably gonna die due to saying the wrong stupid thing in the wrong moment...

23 - Tag a multimuse blog and write some positivity about them (their blog, their muses, etc.)

That’s mean; I’d love to tag every multimuse RPer...and tell them that, even if it looks difficult sometimes, even if there are ungrateful little shits out there: don’t give up! Do your thing! It’s tough to write multiple different characters, but the more respect you deserve for it!! Kudos to those actually managing to juggle all that and not go mad!

[unfinishcdbusincss]

1, 2, 9, 14, and 20 ^_^

ASKS FOR PEOPLE WITH A MULTIMUSE OR MULTIPLE RP BLOGS

1: Which muse(s) is/are your favourite(s)?

I have a tiny pocket of muses who are my faves, actually, although I don’t always disclose them as such. On this blog, it’s definitely Lydia. She came to life for me in a way I never expected her to!

2: Which muse(s) do you wish had more interactions?

Right now, Michael Burr--although in general, just kind of all of them? I crave variety.

9: Which of your muses do you most identify with? Why?

I don’t know about identifying, but I know I feel the most for Heather M. I try to write her sympathetically and sometimes the way I feel about her just digs me deep in the feels.

14: What is your favourite fandom to write in? Why?

I’m such a slut for all things macabre, you’ve got no idea--buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut I keep ending up with apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic stuff and I just. Love it. Watching the world come apart. Watching it try to knit itself back together. Watching ordinary people struggle with their feelings without putting up a front of normalcy. It’s fascinating shit!

20: What is the story or explanation behind your blog name?

Haha. Originally this was going to be a blog just for Lydia--but rather than a quote, I just wanted something ~spooky~ to attach her to. I feel like the blog name ended up feeling pretty open-ended and describes the vast majority of my muses, though, and I love it’s spooktacular dread!

[the-lady-oneill]

@the-self-proclaimed-prince

continued from here bc post trimming is broken on that thread for some reason

Seamus went around the corner to the kitchen, and a silence stretched between them. There was so much Sinead wanted to say after almost a year of keeping this enormous secret. Not wanting to risk overwhelming Ultana, or to risk making this about herself, Sinead kept her mouth shut.

Ultana was quiet for the entire time the kettle heated. Once the water came to a boil, Seamus asked: "Do you still take three sugars?"

"Yeah," Ultana whispered, voice hoarse. "And milk, if you have it."

"Sure," Seamus replied. He came back over and handed Sinead a mug, then handed Ultana hers, then went to fix himself his own cup. Then, he sat down on the reading chair pulled up next to the couch and went back to the beginning, explaining everything just as he had for Sinead -- from that awful night when he'd called Maeja, to his plan, to his 'death', Switzerland, to now.

"I had always hoped to come back," Seamus said at last. "But...for my safety, for yours and Hugh's--"

"You couldn't say anything," Ultana finished for him. "I know. Fuck, if Hugh Sr. isn't a plague."

Seamus laughed through his nose. "Pick that sort of language up from Rory, did you?"

Ultana bit back a smile.

[xfirstbcrn]

Gilead and Erinea had told Seamus that he could come by whenever was convenient for him to pick up some of his old books. He'd been quite busy lately, but he had finally found a few hours of space in the middle of the day to drop by. He let himself in, said a brief hello to Gilead, and then went up to the library to sort through his books. He wasn't taking too many just yet, just some old beloved ones that had quite a few notes written in the margins. He packed them all into a small box and then set them aside.

Down the hall, Hermoine was crying. Gilead had looked pretty dead on his feet, so Seamus suspected that she'd been fussy for a while. She was in the teething stage.

He went down to the nursery. Elijah, who had been coloring by the window, was covering his ears. He stopped, though, when Seamus walked in, his face brightening up into a smile. He jumped up to wrap his arms around Seamus' legs.

"Uncle Seamus!"

"Hey, darling," Seamus laughed. "What's your sister so upset about, hm?"

Elijah shrugged unhappily. "Dunno. She's been sooooo noisy."

"I bet."

He gently disentangled himself (with promises that they would play later), and went over to collect Hermione and give her a good bounce, and pulled a few silly faces, and a few funny noises, and soon she was distracted enough that the crying stopped altogether.

"There we go," Seamus said with a smile. "How about we sing a song, hm?"

"Yes! Sing!" Elijah exclaimed.

So Seamus started to make up a very silly song about babies who wouldn't go to sleep, and how they really ought to, and how tired everyone was, which made Elijah laugh and Hermoine thankfully, slowly soothed to sleep.

Seamus was honestly terrified to put her down and stop rocking, which meant he had landed himself in quite the predicament.

"Elijah, why don't you show me what you've been coloring? Quietly, though. We don't want to wake your sister."

@the-self-proclaimed-prince

[runawaymun-rp]

Tracking down Orla’s mum’s boyfriend had become, somewhat embarrassingly, a bit of an obsession. And ever since that question of Leander had come up, both with the evidence of the female vocals and his aunt’s insistence that Sinead had referred to the mystery man in Switzerland by that name, he’d been poking at the Youtube and Spotify accounts.

Weirdly, it was the lyric videos that had grabbed his attention.

Handwritten. Rather, the font was. In the description, the artist labeled it as his own. That wasn’t the weird part. The weird part was how it reminded him of the letters in that old scrapbook. 

They were at a coffee shop working on their respective homework when he brought it up.

“Do you think we could get ahold of those letters again? The ones your mum and Erinea’s uncle wrote to each other?” 

[house-tyrconnell]

Rorij’s stomach was roiling as he left Moot to head home. One week, the Moot had decided. Even that was with his father buying him time. Some of the older men wanted a decision to be made more quickly. 

He hated the whole idea of it. Not of children-- no, he loved the idea of children. It was the idea of how to go about getting them. 

She’s an O’Neill. It won’t be difficult. She’ll do whatever you tell her to, his great-uncle Asher had said. Rorij’s father had objected to that kind of talk, a strong arm locked over Rorij’s lap to keep him from launching out of his seat to sock his great-uncle in the face. 

He hated that this even had to be brought up at the moot. This sort of thing ought to be his and Shina’s private business. Of course it’s not, though, because it affects the House.

The crown of his head and the tops of his ears felt red-hot by the time he came up on his door. He opened it and found Shina in the sitting room with her books.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, out of breath. 

[exsousiis]

Daniel had picked the exact right day to talk to his parents about Reece. Judah was out for his writing club, Joelle was going out to a movie with friends, and Selena was busy with a school project all night and didn’t want to be bothered. He’d brought Edna home from school, and once Joelle left through the front door, he and Edna came downstairs to find both his parents in the kitchen, chatting over after-dinner cups of tea.

Daniel hovered by the doorframe, hands in his pockets.

“Hey, so, um-- can Edna and I talk to you guys about something? It’s kind of serious.” A pause. “It’s really serious.” 

[aeterniis]

The sun was starting to come up. Kamala was vaguely aware of that as the traffic picked up outside and some birds began to sing. She flung an arm out to the space next to her. Empty. It shouldn’t make her feel better, but it did. She’d finally dozed off around three, and, yep, the clock said six. Three hours wasn’t so bad, considering Yoni hadn’t been here to keep her company.

She sat up, rubbed her eyes, and got up to get dressed. The girls wouldn’t be up for a good while yet. She’d have the house to herself and the cats.

Except for Edna.

Right. She’d briefly forgotten about her. 

Kamala went about her morning routine. A shower, making sure the door was locked before she got in, brushing her teeth, fixing her hair. She dressed in a pair of comfy jeans and a sweater, didn’t bother with her face. Coffee. 

She went downstairs, quiet as a cat. She knew exactly which of the steps creaked, and which of them wouldn’t make noise if she landed just so. Old habit. 

Kamala looked around the stairs to see Edna curled up on the sofa. She turned into the kitchen and started the coffee maker, and filled up a cup of water to water the plants in front of the sink.

The coffee maker spluttered, then went quiet. She pulled a mug down from the rack over the sink and poured herself a cup. When she went to sit at the kitchen table, her scalp tingled. The familiar sensation of being watched. It’s just me, was the immediate correction. Still, she felt her body wind up like a clock. 

When she looked, it was Edna. She was awake. Oh. 

Kamala let out a breath, and offered her a nod.

“Morning. Coffee?”