#writing: coccino

[mrlyn]

Mad Men Writing Prompts: “The drunker you are, the funnier I become.”

Emery’s eighteenth birthday was just as glamorous as anyone would expect. Her home had been transformed for the event; the furniture was put into storage for the night while her party planner brought in high tables and bars. “I cannot condone underaged drinking, Emery,” her mother said months prior. “Just pretend we’re in Europe, mother. It will all be okay.”

She entered the filled room in a long black gown, her arm hooked through her brother’s. She looked at her vision come to life and smiled with pride. Her birthday was the event of the year. Emery made sure of it. People fought hand over fist to secure an invite to the party. The chaos that ensued was gift enough for the girl. Though, this year, she had a different prize in mind.

Jack Harrington, her mother’s now ex-boy toy husband always knew how to take control of a room. She’s watched him in court, charming juries with ease. Her mother was clearly going through a crisis. Dating a man, let alone marrying one, half her age was pathetic. Though, Emery couldn’t help but admire the woman for landing such a hot commodity. 

Her friends would sleepover just for the chance to see him cook breakfast in the morning. They’d ogle and stare, and Emery joined them. She bit her lip when he rolled up his sleeves and undid the top button of his crisp Armani dress shirts. She was filled with such envy that her mother got to sleep next to that man every night. Though, now that they were divorced and she was eighteen, it was her turn to see what he truly had to offer. 

When Jack told her that he wasn’t planning on attending her and Loren’s party, Emery was crushed. At least, that’s how she played off her careful manipulation. “You promised,” she pleaded, looking up at him with her doe-eyes. “You wouldn’t ruin the birthday girl’s day, would you?”

Her friends were over the moon when he confirmed his attendance. Though, little did they know, while they were fantasizing of him, Emery would be making her fantasies a reality.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” her brother said when she spotted her target. “Just promise you won’t call him daddy.”

Emery laughed, but shrugged her brother off as she walked towards her former step-father. “I’m so glad you came,” she said, pulling him into an embrace. 

“Well, I wouldn’t want to make the birthday girl unhappy.”

As the night went on, Emery filled her body with booze and watched as Jack did the same. It was nearing the end of the evening when Emery walked by her brother, giving him only a wink as she passed. She proceeded to slam her body into Jack’s spilling his drink all over his suit.

“Oh, my god,” she proclaimed, covering her mouth in shock. “I’m so sorry...here, come with me. I think my mother threw a few of the shirts you left behind in my closet.”

“I don’t think--”

“Wine stains, Jack. Let me fix this.”

She led the man formerly married to her mother upstairs to her bedroom. She sat him down on her bed, where he was visibly uncomfortable while she rummaged through her closet, pretending to look. “Take that off and throw it in the hamper. Lucy can get rid of the worst of stains.”

“I remember,” he said, reluctantly following Emery’s orders. 

As soon as she saw from the corner of her eye that he stripped down to his undershirt, Emery grabbed the the white button down hanging in front of her and walked back to her victim. “Do you want a drink?” she asked, draping the shirt on her armchair. Before he could answer, she was walking to the precarious decanter filled with liquid gold, pouring two tumblers.

“You’re funny. I really shouldn’t,” he said, grabbing the glass from her anyway. “The open bar is a killer.”

“Well, the drunker you are, the funnier I become,” she replied, taking a sip as she spoke. His actions mirrored hers and she smiled. She sat down next to him on the edge of her bed and watched as he chuckled at her statement and downed his drink.

“You’re a dangerous girl, Emery.” His breath felt warm on her skin. It tingled.

“I try to be,” she said, biting her lip ever so slightly. She saw him look at her, filled with a hunger he was trying to repress. She leaned in close, and whispered, “you don’t want to make the birthday girl unhappy, do you?”

All he did was shake his head slowly and pull her face to his. 

[ironclawallosaur]

Coccino

In which the weird remnants of Cindercone Clan get a new arrival.

The world will get better some day. The words were like a mantra to Coccino; they always had been. Today, however, they were joined by a somewhat gloomier second half. I’m pretty sure it can’t get much worse.

She raised her head and looked out over a fetid expanse of mire, choked by the leafy debris of thousands of Tangled Wood trees. The border of Plague and Shadow, always tense, was currently in a season of greater decay. The scraggly spruces, most of which came up only to her elbow when she was standing, were bronzed by the latest onslaught of some disease. The blackened waters were running high, but her whiskers could detect no trace of life within them. Even the vast array of mushrooms were mostly rotting, melting into liquid that mingled with the black waters.

It hadn’t been this bad when she went to sleep, she thought. She turned her head back to look at the stream she’d followed down here, tracking the scent of pure water out of the mire, and found it still clear, though diminished to a trickle.

She hefted herself to her feet, gembond clacking awkwardly, and went to gain a drink. She had hoped, by straying as far from Plague as she could, that the disease might lessen in virulence. So far, whether it was by her continued allegiance to a Plague clan or that she had not yet traveled far enough, this had not occurred.

The sun was still in morning climb, rimmed hazy red by high-atmosphere Plaguelands clouds. Already the air here was unpleasantly muggy. Coccino weighed her options and decided would continue, deeper into the woods. Things will get better some day.

*

The woods were an unfriendly place to be 28 meters long and accustomed to open terrain, but the cool shadows were soothing. The one thing they didn’t seem to soothe were the largest of the gems. Always heavy and awkward, they were beginning to burn, as if they were leaking ampoules of fire or acid. Coccino looked at them a few times, and found that they seemed faintly luminescent, though it might only have been a trick of the odd glancing beams of light that filtered down from above.

She was beginning to suspect that someone was following her. It had taken awhile for her to be certain—faint memories of her hatchling days in the Southern Icefield had reminded her that forests often felt as if they were watching—but the sense of watchfulness had condensed down to a point.

“Are you lost?” The voice was rough, the sybillants drawn out. Despite herself, Coccino prickled.

“I am not lost.” she said, without turning. “I do not have anywhere in particular to go.”

The unknown speaker hissed. The noise sounded more thoughtful than hostile, but the fact that she still couldn’t find them was troubling. “I know a place to go.”

She turned her head toward where the sound seemed to be coming from.

A medium-sized dragon slipped out from the undergrowth. Coloration was impossible to tell in the gloom, but she thought they were likely a bogsneak. She sniffed, and found a male scent, heavily overlaid with salt.

“I’m headed there now.” the other dragon hissed. “Would you like to join me?”

Coccino hesitated, but she was a top-tier warrior and five times the bogsneak’s size. She would watch carefully for signs of an ambush, but she had to do so anyway in Shadow.

They set out together. Several times, the bogsneak attempted to slip through gaps that Coccino simply wouldn’t fit through. Each time, however, he reconsidered, and looped around. In glimpses from patches of foxfire, she confirmed that he was, indeed, a bogsneak, and that his dark eyes looked closer to Water blue than Shadow violet, though with all the new eyecolors appearing it was difficult to be certain. His saline scent, and the bandanna tied jauntily around his crests added weight to her theory.

The first sign of their destination was a tingling in Coccino’s fanned whiskers as she encountered a finely wrought web of wards and magical detectors. Then, faintly, through the thickening trees, she began to see the lights of lanterns, and, faintly, hear snatches of conversation and song.

Soon, they had reached a road of sorts, well-hidden but much more passable. Coccino relaxed, cautiously. This did not look like an ambush; it looked more like a hidden inn. This far out toward Plague, it wasn’t likely to be a faerie grove.

“Wait here while I find the Captain.” the bogsneak rasped, gesturing to the side of the main road. “She’d love to see some extra muscle.”

Coccino frowned. “I haven’t agreed to do anything.”

The bogsneak grinned, and flared his crests. “No, of course, but you’ll like the Captain and she’ll like you.” His tone was not at all hostile.

Coccino did as he had bidden, easing herself down into a laying position, and taking the chance to look around. The tree boughs overhead, where they were illuminated by the lamps, were full of talanok. Corven chattered mockingly at her in their own tongue, but the raptorik did not level spears at her.

Her gembond was seriously aching now, not just the biggest but now the next-largest. She licked at one, experimentally. It tasted bitter and unpleasant.

“Greetings, newcomer.” The voice came from somewhere by her elbow.

Coccino jumped, flaring her wings so far she cracked one on a tree-trunk, and whirled away from the source of the noise.

A skydancer was standing there, long jaws parted in a mocking smile. She could hardly be seen in the gloom, blending unnervingly into the shadows. “Who are you?”

“My name is Coccino.” She blinked. “I’m sorry, I—am I not welcome?”

“Who invited you?” The skydancer’s eyes narrowed.

“A bogsneak.” Coccino swallowed. “He was wearing a bandana.”

The skydancer snorted. “Dogfish.” She shifted her expression, and her wings began to shine with an unnerving halflight. “Welcome to the Rogue’s Camp. I am Liglanaerr, the commander of the realm.”

Coccino dipped her head. “I am glad to meet you.”

“Indeed.” Liglanaerr’s smile returned to mocking for a brief instant. “And where is Dogfish now?”

“He said he was getting ‘the Captain’.”

Liglanaerr snorted again. “As far as I’m aware, this ‘Captain’ is a figment of his overactive imagination; I’ve certainly never met her.” Her expression shifted to the thoughtful. “Still, he has wares to sell, so perhaps he does indeed work with a pirate captain, and she’s simply never come into the Rogue’s Camp.” Her antennae flicked forward. “Would you then be interested in joining up?” Her voice had dropped to a purr.

Coccino nodded slightly. “I’m not averse to it. Mostly, however, I’m hoping to get this gembond from getting any worse.”

Liglanaerr frowned, and stepped forward. “Show me.” she said.

Coccino spread her wing, bringing the leading edge closer to the skydancer. Liglanaerr placed a forefoot near one of the medium-sized gems, and flicked her antennae.

“It’s been some time since I’ve seen a malignant gembond this bad.” she stated. “Are you averse to changing tertiary?”

Coccino shrugged, which dislodged the skydancer. “I’m afraid it’s resisted changing.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Liglanaerr smiled again. “We may no longer have a clan doctor, but the remains of Cindercone Clan can always get a job done.” She turned, and began to walk. “Come.”

Once again, Coccino followed, but this time she could feel hope welling up in her. Liglanaerr seemed highly confident. Could there be a solution at hand, a real solution?

They walked for long enough that Coccino might have preferred to fly if they weren’t under the cover of the trees, though the spiralling paths they took were difficult for her to track.

“Wares, Telleren.” the skydancer called out.

A ridgeback thrust her head down from above. Her slender face bore an expression colder than her Ice eyes. “Buying or selling?” Her voice was also cold, but honeyed.

“Buying, with a chance for you to make a profit on remains.” Liglanaerr gestured, and Coccino slid her head forward, turning to show off the gems clustered on her cheek.

Telleren hummed. “I may have something.” she said, at last, and some of the cold faded from her voice.

Liglanaerr dipped her head.

“What does it cost?” Coccino submitted.

Telleren snorted. “Oh, I’m not selling to you. This is to the boss.” She rolled her gaze over to Liglanaerr. “I know she’s good for it. You’re a stranger.”

Coccino, too, shifted her head to look at Liglanaerr. The skydancer eyed her evenly.

“Join my little clan.” she said. “You’ll do well, if you can provide for us.”

She could always leave if she didn’t like it, Coccino decided. “I’m in.”

“Come back in a week.” Telleren said, and her head retreated back into the branches above.

*

Coccino spent the week getting to know the other clan-members, a loose confederation of rogues that all answered in some way to Liglanaerr. Dogfish dropped in and out of the clan twice, apologizing to her roughly for not having been able to find the Captain. He brought a “fellow crewmember” with him the second time, a mottled pale coatl whose easy affability made up for his sickly appearance.

When the day came—though she could not possibly tell if it was day or night in the perpetual darkness—Liglanaerr appeared as if from nowhere to lead her back. The route they took this time seemed shorter, less circuitous, and this time Coccino found she could recognize the tree they stopped under.

“Wares.” Liglanaerr called again.

Telleren stuck her head out again. “Fresh and ready.” she stated. Her head vanished; a few minutes later, she appeared, climbing down the vast treetrunk. Her dark wings looked almost like a cloak on her pale frame. “Here.” She withdrew a scroll that was tucked under her arm-winglets.

Coccino took it, and examined it closely. A fragment of parchment with a shimmering ampoule inscribed on it, it resembled most other genescrolls she’d seen—but something about it, particularly the color of the ink and the scent and the faint shimmer of leaking magic on her whiskers, seemed off.

“This is a bootleg genescroll.” Telleren explained. Her voice was matter-of-fact, betraying no hint of shame or secretiveness. “It’s got a little more oomph in it than normal.”

Coccino frowned. “What does that mean?”

Telleren grimaced. “Let’s say… an alchemist friend of mine brewed it up without official Baldwin certification. It’ll work. If not, it’s free. But it bypasses a lot of the normal rules of genescrolls, so it should work a gene that’s not really a gene.”

Liglanaerr flared her wings impatiently. “The cost, Telleren?”

“90,000 treasure.” The ridgeback’s gaze grew suddenly wistful. “Or… a case of Suncourt Wine. The real stuff.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged… after we see the results.” Liglanaerr flicked her wings again, and the halflight glow in them faded.

Coccino took the scroll, and began to read.

For a long moment after she finished, the only thing she could feel was wisps of magic coalescing around her, too unformed for her to tell what they would do.

Then the pain started, not in the gems—as had happened when she had tried to change tertiary before—but in her abdomen, as if a Serthis had shot a bolt of flame down her throat. She collapsed to her belly, gritting her teeth, until the first wave subsided. Another one was building, but in the momentary lull between swells she could feel it, a soft trickling feeling.

The gems were beginning to slide off her.

Coccino rode out the second wave in silence, but the third, accompanied by a surge of nausea, caused her to yelp. She vomited miserably on the fourth, ejecting the leopardshark and candied ants she’d eaten, but the fifth was lighter. There were eight more waves of pain and nausea before it stopped, and she could lay there trembling.

Coccino opened her eyes. The forest spun slightly. She was sitting in a puddle of gems, some chalky and opaque, others with an odd opalescence to them.

Telleren was examining one gingerly. “Yep, definitely infectious in origin.” she muttered. “Some of these might go for a fair amount in the Scarred Wasteland, and I know a doctor who’d like to study them.” She smiled. “Thanks for the tip.”

Coccino sat up, marveling at how the gems no longer impeded her. She felt oddly hollow, and decidedly hungry.

“The wine’s on its way with Henhowl.” Liglanaerr said. “Here’s your down payment.” She withdrew a bottle from somewhere in her dark robes and offered it.

Telleren’s stern expression softened into glee. “The genuine artifact?” She sank a claw into the bottle and removed the cork, then took a thoughtful sip. She closed her eyes, looking extremely satisfied. “I knew there was a reason you were my favored contact.”

Liglanaerr dipped her head, fanning her crest.

Coccino’s stomach rumbled, but the thought of fish was nauseating. Instead, she found herself looking at the pile of gems with an odd hunger, as if they were shed antlers. “Is… wanting to eat these a normal side effect?”

Telleren whipped her head around and fixed her with a disturbed look. “Yeah, I guess it could be.”

“Should I not?”

Telleren waved a claw, looking irritated. “It’s product, but if you really want to, you’d better do it.” She grimaced. “Just try to leave me some, all right?”

They tasted, predictably, awful, but there was something satisfying about chewing the gems that had so plagued her into a paste. She was relieved to be able to stop after three of the largest and a few of the smallest.

“Well, look at that.” Liglanaerr said, quietly. Telleren made a short intake of breath.

Coccino looked in the direction they were looking, and realized it was at her. She looked down, and realized to her surprise that her bellyplates were translucent. Through them, she could see the gem-paste like lava within her.

“Guess that explains that.” Telleren said. “I trust that’s not a problem.” She looked at her claw. “That’s what Capsule is supposed to look like, I hear.”

Coccino shrugged, bumping her wingtip on the ground. “Thank you.” she said.

The ridgeback eyed her appraisingly. “You really do mean that, don’t you?”

Coccino frowned. She might still be disoriented from the nausea but… she was fairly certain her proportions were changing. And… she frowned, looking at her tail. Am I shrinking?

“What about this?” she asked, her voice high with nerves.

“What about what?” Liglanaerr’s voice was sharp, and one foreclaw had drifted to her sword hilt.

Coccino gestured at herself. “This. I’m… shrinking.”

“Oh Icewarden’s teeth.” Liglanaerr snarled.

“No refunds.” Telleren said, though her appearance was far less confident than her even tones.

Coccino struggled to her feet. By now, the change was obvious; she was losing size visibly, her whiskers withering away. Telleren stood well back, wings raised, but the magic did not coil about her, nor about Liglanaerr. The trees around her, and Telleren, seemed to loom over her. Coccino braced herself, ducking her head.

At last, it was over.

Liglanaerr came over to help her up. The bellyful of pulverized gem, once a few mouthfuls, now filled her. She blinked, staggering in place.

“This had better not get out of hand again.” Liglanaerr said, in tones of utter warning.

Telleren held up her claws. “Sorry, lady, sorry. But even I can’t get my hand on an Imperial scroll.”

[lolacism]

Lumen for Coccino. Aspectus for Indicus. Cinereo for Surgens. If you please!

LUMEN: what is your favorite childhood memory?

The crispness of sand getting caught between tiny toes, pleasantly salty whiffs of oceanic air reaching unexperienced nostrils, the sun warming my skin, attempting to burn it but merely turning it into the shade of slightly toasted toast and the buzzing of French chatter and typical elegance in the background — I still remember the setting as clearly as had it been yesterday. It was at the Côte d’Azur and my brother and I were still very young — five going on six at most — but whenever I think back to this vacation, I can still see him so clearly as if he had never grown up. It was a family vacation, a proper one back then, quite possibly the last of its kind. Our mother had taken to remaining in the city to both avoid another fit of seasickness as well as to catch up with some old friends while spending a generous amount on luxuries we hardly required but without exception desired while our father had taken us out on the first yacht cruise I can consciously recall. It’s almost ironic to think my favourite memory allows him of all people to play a part in it but I had felt so free that day, out on the open water; so blissful and carefree one wouldn’t have guessed this little me and I are truly the same person. He was kind then, and he’d lift me up to peek across the railing and tell me that one day, I would be taking my kids out on a trip like this in his honour, wouldn’t I? Back then, I had still foolishly agreed. That thought has long since been washed away, as quickly as the waves disrupted my reflection in the water.

ASPECTUS: what are your biggest pet peeves?

Mindlessness, unfounded arrogance and lack of stimulation — when you’re trying to make conversation with someone that goes slightly beyond the realms of small talk and within five sentences, you can observe how their interest shifts, drifting off in their eyes, right in front of your own. I loathe when people believe to be better than someone else merely because of shallow factors that have been handed to them in the cradle, as if they had truly earned any of it themselves — proven worthy of it. Blissful ignorance as well. How anyone can pretend the problems that concern the entire world’s population are none of their business is beyond me. Oh well, and I really can’t stand it if someone bites their nails in public. Even just the mental picture sends actual shivers down my spine at this point.

CINEREO: what’s your biggest fear?

God, what haven’t I feared so far? There has been a plethora of fears I have somehow miraculously overcome up until this day, probably due to reality being barely half as bad — if even — and my exaggerated fears being a product of heavy overthinking. The day I left Rhode Island with my sights set on Yale, I felt sick to my stomach thanks to crippingly anxiety but that turned out alright, didn’t it? Most irrationally big fears do in the end, fortunately enough. They’re hardly even worth mentioning. The rational ones, however… and I suppose I currently have one of those, I’ll admit it. I’m scared shitless about the prospect of someone finding out about my family what I’ve had to find out — especially certain people.

[fortcvolontc-a]

Tagged by:  @libcrtyfell

1st RULE: tag 10 muses you would like to know better

@wiittyrepartee, @coccino, @thesoulscfmany, @ahopefulbunch, @unfortunatesculs, @antagxnized, @tcnebrism, @outlawiism, @offershope, @danversiism

2ND RULE: BOLD the statements that are true for your muse

APPEARANCE:

I am 5'7" or taller I wear glasses I have at least one tattoo I have at least one piercing I have blonde hair I have brown eyes I have short hair My abs are at least somewhat defined I have or have had braces

PERSONALITY:

I love meeting new people People tell me that I’m funny Helping others with their problems is a big priority for me I enjoy physical challenges I enjoy mental challenges I’m playfully rude with people I know well I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it There is something I would change about my personality

ABILITY:

I can sing well I can play an instrument I can do over 30 pushups without stopping I’m a fast runner I can draw well I have a good memory I’m good at doing math in my head I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute I have beaten at least 2 people in arm wrestling I know how to cook at least 3 meals from scratch I know how to throw a proper punch

HOBBIES:

I enjoy playing sports I’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else I’m in an orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else I have learned a new song in the past week I work out at least once a week I’ve gone for runs at least once a week in the warmer months I have drawn something in the past month I enjoy writing FANDOMS ARE MY #1 PASSION I do or have done martial arts

EXPERIENCES:

I have had my first kiss I have had alcohol I have scored the winning goal in a sports game I have watched an entire season of a TV show in one sitting I have been at an overnight event I have been in a taxi I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year I have beaten a video game in one day I have visited another country I have been to one of my favorite band’s concerts

RELATIONSHIPS:

I’m in a relationship I have a crush on a celebrity I have a crush on someone I know I have been in at least 3 relationships I have never been in a relationship I have asked someone out or admitted my feelings to them I get crushes easily I have had a crush on someone for over a year I have been in a relationship for at least a year I have had feelings for a friend

MY LIFE:

I have at least one person I consider a “best friend” I live close to my school My parents are still together I have at least one sibling I live in the united states There is snow right now where I live I have hung out with a friend in the past month I have a smartphone I have at least 15 CDs I share my room with someone

RANDOM SHIT:

I have breakdanced I know a person named Jamie I have had a teacher with a last name that’s hard to pronounce I have dyed my hair I’m listening to one song on repeat right now I have punched someone in the past week I know someone who has gone to jail I have broken a bone I have eaten a waffle today I know what I want to do with my life I speak at least 2 languages I have made a new friend in the past year

[mrlyn]

c o c c i n o - headcanon meme

INDICUS: how many siblings do you have?

I have one pain in the ass brother who never lets the fact that he’s older by mere minutes be forgotten.

CARMINA: what’s your favorite movie?

Some Like It Hot is my favourite movie. What could be better than men dressing in drag running from the mob? Though, if I were being totally honest, The Devil Wears Prada takes the cake.

COCCINO: what do you find most charming in others?

I find an unrelenting and unapologetic sense of self the most charming thing about someone. If you’re not confident in who you are, why the fuck would I care about you?

CERTABANT: if you could travel anywhere in the world, where would it be?

Vancouver. I’ve been all over Europe and made stops in Asia. I’d love to step foot in the west coast of Canada for once. It seems terribly underrated.  

LUCIDUM: what is your dream job?

It’s not a dream job, but a future reality. Editor of Vogue Magazine, clearly. Is there anyone else more qualified?

CINEREO: what’s your biggest fear?

The only fear I have is working with others who lack any sort of intellectual capability. 

OPALUS: what was/is your favorite fairy tale?

Do Greek Myths count as fairy tales? If yes, Disney’s Hercules was on repeat in my home growing up.

AURUM: what’s your favorite alcoholic beverage?

Nothing tops a great class of Cabernet Sauvignon.

ROSEUM: do you have any hobbies?

I double major at Yale. Who has time for hobbies?

SAPPHIRUS: what is your political affiliation?

Fiscally conservative, socially liberal. But, fuck voting for immature and unqualified Republicans just because of partisan politics.

CINIS: do you have any scars or physical abnormalities?

No.

ACHATES: how do you take your coffee or tea?

Both black.

ALIQUAM: if you could have any superpower, what would it be?

I would have the power where I’m always comfortable, regardless of temperature. I detest feeling cold or too hot.

AERIS: what’s your favorite book?

The Beautiful and Damned by F. Scott Fitzgerald. 

LAPIS: what’s your favorite article of clothing?

I have a custom Elie Saab gown that I wore to Cotillion. 

LUMEN: what is your favorite childhood memory?

My father used to take me on a “date” every Friday night before he left. One night, he just took me for ice cream and gave me a Tiffany bracelet. The next week, he was gone. I don’t know if I could classify this as a favourite memory...but it’s certainly the one that sticks out the most.

VIRIDE: how many languages do you speak?

I speak English and French fluently. 

ARGENTUM: what is your biggest indulgence?

I think I spend more money on makeup in a year than I do on rent.

VINUM: what are the last three songs you listened to?

Green Light by Lorde. Landslide by Fleetwood Mac. Take on Me by A-ha.

ASPECTUS: what are your biggest pet peeves?

When people judge women who take pride in their appearance. I’m at Yale. I’m fairly certain I can keep up with a dude who rows crew.

LUX: how old were you when you had your first kiss? 

Six, if we’re counting primary school love affairs. Fourteen for legitimate kisses.

ALBA: do you have any daily rituals?

My nightly skin routine. Regardless of what I’ve done that night, I can’t sleep until it’s done.

FLAVUM: what is your most prized possession?

My father’s wedding band.

SURGENS: how is your relationship with your family?

I often find myself judging my mother for her poor choices in love and marriage; my brother and I are very close. He’s my twin, after all. My other half.

PURPURAM: is it better to be feared or to be loved?

Feared. In my experience, people walk over the people they love.

VENATOREM: if you could go back to any time period, what would it be?

The 1920s. There’s something so appealing about prohibition and speakeasies and Jazz.

[mrlyn]

c o c c n i o + favourites

What is his/her most important/treasured material possession? Her father’s wedding ring. She found it in the trash after he left. Hobbies/pastimes: Bubble baths while reading Vogue and Vanity Fair. Favorite kind of music: 1970s/80s pop and rock. Favorite food/drink: Oysters with lemon | Cabernet Sauvignon Favorite movie: Some Like it Hot The Devil Wears Prada Favorite fictional hero/heroine: Lady Macbeth Favorite names: N/A Favorite kind of sandwich: BLT. Favorite thing to eat for breakfast: Egg white omelette with bell peppers, tomatoes and onions. Favorite Halloween costume: Marie Antoinette Favorite magazine: Vogue Favorite book: The Beautiful and Damned by F. Scott Fitzgerald  Favorite color: Scarlett  Fast food restaurant: Chipotle  Favorite animal: Lynx  Favorite sweet: Strawberry Shortcake  Favorite city: New York City Favorite sport: Rowing Favorite flower: Wolf’s Bane

[mrlyn]

c o c c i n o + headcanons – part three

Internship – Emery spent her first summer post-high school graduation was spent at an internship at Vanity Fair. There, she worked under those who worked under those who worked under Graydon Carter. Fetching coffee for journalists for even a chance to get in the same room as Annie Leibovitz or Carter himself was worth every stained Gucci blouse. By the end of her summer, she had a five minute chat in the elevator with the editor. “Take it from someone who dropped out twice. Your education is what you make it.” While Emery didn’t like taking orders, when people earned that right, she fell right in line. Especially if it meant furthering her own agenda. 

High School – Emery’s private all girls school was dull. Highly respected by many, but absolutely and terribly boring for her. Without Loren there to be her partner, Emery needed minions to help with her schemes. She had a parade of girls who followed all of Emery’s carefully planned orders. If she was going to be stuck in the halls of a school that thrived on ancient tradition, she needed to make her own fun. Malicious was a word some of her peers would use to describe her. Though, Emery would disagree. While she was certainly creative in her schemes, they were rarely undeserved. She was the Queen, after all. No one dared disrespect the Queen.

Favourite Movie – If you asked Emery what her favourite film was, she’d tell you it was Some Like It Hot. Marilyn was old Hollywood Royalty. There was no denying that. And, while Emery certainly enjoys the movie, it was not her favourite. No, that spot belong to The Devil Wears Prada. Meryl Streep was present Hollywood Royalty and Miranda Priestly was everything Emery hoped to be. Powerful and fashionable. She can quote that movie in her sleep.

[mrlyn]

c o c c i n o + headcanons – part two

Birthdays – Emery’s favourite day of the year has been and always would be her birthday. As far as she’s concerned, it was the day the world was blessed with not one, but two of the best gifts they would ever receive. The large and lavish parties she throws in honour of the event are dripped in gold. She relishes in showing off the best she has to offer while others struggle to find a suitable gift for someone who already has it all. While most would believe she abhors having to share the day with anyone, the contrary is true. Celebrating her birth only made sense if her brother’s shared her spotlight. They were partners. From the day they entered the world until the day they left it. (Note: Loren may or may not have the same passion for birthdays as Emery. Emery doesn’t care either way.)

Husband #3 – When Isabella Cassidy decided to marry a mafia boss, Emery was over the moon. A lick of danger was always entertaining. While she knew the relationship was doomed from the start, her mother never could get commitment right, Emery was careful to be the apple in Husband #3′s eye. Having a mafia boss in her back pocket could only be beneficial. Even post-divorce the man came running to all of Emery’s calls. “You divorce wives, not children,” became his mantra. Should a boy cross any of Emery’s ever changing lines and she didn’t want to deal with the problem personally, Husband #3 or one of his goons took care of it. 

Music – The art of the orchestra was never something that garnered much of Emery’s attention. Of course she was enrolled in piano from the moment she could sit up on her own, but there was never any passion there. The only reason she never stopped taking lessons was because of the way it would look on a college application. Piano, violin and flute were in her repertoire, though never ask her to play. While you will get a perfectly appropriate song that follows the sheet music well, it will be completely lacking in whatever it was that made music beautiful. 

[mrlyn]

Mad Men Writing Prompts: "Believe me, I will ruin him."

Emery sat in her chair carved of wood at the ornate desk within the walls of the Yale Library. The latest issue of Vogue sat unopened next to her laptop as she read essays on the validity of applying feminist theory to William Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew. She rolled her eyes at the imbecile males who believed they could understand the female experience. 

Incessantly tapping her pen on the table, a habit she inherited from Husband #2 that she never quite grew out of, she garnered the attention of one overbearing alpha-bro. He approached her, a cocky grin on his face and Emery restrained the urge to roll her eyes. Rather, she brought the end of her pen to her mouth and lightly bit the end. He sat across from her, in the seat that previously belonged to Alba, and met her eyes. “Have a bit of stress over MacCallum’s midterm?” he asked, causing Emery to quirk her brow. Was this boy in her Shakespeare seminar? His face was wholly unfamiliar. “Everyone flunks his tests. No need to worry your pretty little head over it.”

Emery smiled as she gingerly placed her pen in front of her. She folded her hands and ensured his eyes never left hers. “I don’t flunk. Regardless of the precedence other people set.”

He laughed. The arrogant sound pierced through Emery’s ears. “Believe me, this class will ruin you. But, I could help you study. Make the blow a little less...rough.”

“Oh, how generous of you,” she replied. “Though, I don’t think I could take advice from someone who fails.”

He licked his lips, clearly unaccustomed to being turned down. “You got me all wrong, darling.” Strike one. “When I say everyone flunks, I just mean anyone who puts any stock in the trash that is Vogue Magazine,” he said, picking up her glossy bible, flipping through the pages with his ill-managed fingernails. Strike two.

“Ah, I see. You’re the type who believes women who take pride in the way the present themselves to the world cannot possibly be more intelligent than yourself.”

“Well, it’s just a fact, sweetheart.” Strike three.

Emery shifted. Her body language opened and she looked down at her fingers and smiled. “Maybe you’re right,” she said, glancing up through thick eyelashes. “I guess a little help never hurt anyone.”

“I knew you’d come around,” he said, pulling out his phone for Emery to type in her phone number. She entered it, correctly, and the two set a date. “Saturday. 7 o’clock.”

He sauntered off just in time for Alba to return to her rightful place across from Emery. “Who was that?” she asked, opening the fresh textbook she brought back from the stacks.

“No one of import,” Emery replied. “But believe me, I will ruin him.”

[mrlyn]

c o c c i n o + headcanons – part one

Fashion – Emery never had a talent for drawing. Arts and crafts never came to her, though, she never cared. She could always pin-point what was right and what was wrong with the clothes the people around her wore. “Those shoes with that dress?” was never a comment on class, rather taste. Certain people had taste and others…well, others were lacking in that area. Emery loved to coach people, to improve their lives with her gift of knowing how to dress a body. Any body. She would read half-assed advice in major magazines and roll her eyes. Emery knew better than the majority of what was written. So, while design was never in her future, she would write.

Tattoos and Piercings – While Emery would never permanently mark or scar her body with ink or metal, she finds a certain beauty in people who do. She sees walls of inked skin the way others see the Sistine Chapel; tattoos are a story to be told and Emery wants to hear it. The taste of rebellion that is akin to those adorned with permanent pictures on their skin gives her a tickle of pleasure, as well.

Nicknames – Emery refuses to be referred to as anything other than her name. No sweethearts nor darlings, no Em’s or Emmy’s. Emery was Emery and nothing more. There was only one exception to this very strict rule; her brother could call her whatever he pleased. 

[mrlyn]

Tomorrow I’m writing a para for Carmina, and I don’t know if I want to continue my Mad Men prompt streak or reserve that for Coccino and find a different set of prompts for Carmina...AGAIN THE STRUGGLE IS REAL.

[mrlyn]

part of me wants to write an app for Aurum...I may start one but wait to see if/who I get accepted for before I submit it. bc if i get accepted as coccino, i’d want to have interactions with whoever plays aurum...the struggle is real.

[mrlyn]

INTRODUCTION:

My “name” is Merlyn (Tommy Merlyn may he rest in peace), and my preferred pronouns are she/her. I live in southern Ontario, which means I’m in the Eastern Timezone.

A GAME OF FAVORITES:

FACECLAIM: Paul Wesley is always and forever my favourite faceclaim to play. Though, if you take a gander through my “I wanna play yo face” tag, you’ll see there are plenty more FCs that I need to use. As to play against...honestly, it all depends on how the mun writes them. I fall in love with different faceclaims all the time because of great writing. MUSE: Henry King. My brooding baby boy. He’s the first character I played under this alias and two years later he still holds my heart. CHARACTER: Such a loaded question...honestly, I’d have to say Sansa Stark.  LITERATURE/FILM: My favourite book is tied between The Great Gatsby and The Outsiders. My favourite movie is La La Land, but it’s closely followed by The Princess Bride.

TWO TRUTHS & A LIE:

I’m terrified of butterflies because of SpongeBob SquarePants, I knew the answer to a trivia question at a bar because of SpongeBob SquarePants and I had to Google how SpongeBob SquarePants was stylized just for this post.

THIS OR THAT:

Coffee or Tea? Hot Chocolate. Pancakes or Waffles? Pancakes. Kittens or Puppies? KITTENS. Netflix or Hulu? Netflix.  Libraries or Museums? Museums. Libraries give me the creeps...

POISON IVY:

100% Coccino. I flirted with Opalus, but I just have so much inspiration for my venomous queen. I saw the beautiful promo on my dash before the main was released and was hooked immediately. Rich Kids who are spoiled rotten are my kink.

[lolacism]

INTRODUCTION:

Nicola has been bestowed upon me when I was born but Lola has kind of become a thing in the rpc from my most recent admin days I guess so either works? Definitely she/her & GMT+1 since I’m chillin’ in the centre of Europe c:

A GAME OF FAVORITES:

FACECLAIM: Who are your favorate faceclaims to play / to play against? Oh GOD, I genuinely play & play against so many different faces it’s insane but I without exaggeration cannot play against Penn Badgley or Max Irons anymore because they’re m i n e & mine alone to play & idk... I started playing Amanda Seyfried and it just clicked with her so quickly that she suddenly became my mascot & I’m loooving Antonia Thomas rn whom I only got to start playing very recently so :’))) OH & Isla Fisher who is so terribly underused, probably also due to her age but?? still?? how tbh?? MUSE: Who is your favorite muse you’ve ever played?  But... I love them all??? D: But since he’s my oldest still standing muse, probably my son Francesco Bellomo (which literally means ‘beautiful man’ because I couldn’t possibly resist such an awkward last name) who is the most troubled little bean one could ever ask for CHARACTER: Who is your favorite literary/show/film character of all time? Uhm... duh, Blanche Dubois... nah jk, Amélie Poulain, hands down, no doubt LITERATURE/FILM: What is your favorite book? What is your favorite movie? Book: Lolita (don’t judge me pls, anything Nabokov touches is pure & untainted art & I’d sell my soul to be able to write like this man plus this actually positively immortalised me in my high school after writing about it in my English finals) Film: Le Fabuleux Destin d’Amélie Poulain (but everyone who has befriended me also knows it’s Saturday Night Fever, a true cinematic gem of the 1970s)

TWO TRUTHS & A LIE:

I was home sick from school for two weeks after we had to dissect a pig’s eye in biology class; I nearly failed to graduate because I missed PE too much thanks to my doctor telling me I was #stressed for two months instead of prescribing me the antibiotics I needed for my flu; I quote the Lion King in random every day situations far too much.

THIS OR THAT:

Coffee or Tea?  Pancakes or Waffles? Kittens or Puppies? Both living together in perfect harmony like ebony and ivory Netflix or Hulu? because Hulu wasn’t really a thing Europeans could access without a VPN? Is that still the same because I just cut it out of my life because of that?? Libraries or Museums? BOTH & THEATRES but if you held a gun to my head, Libraries

POISON IVY:

Well... every other skeleton has caught my eye, really? It’s gotten to the point where I’m scared of new ones being posted because I told myself I’d only apply for two max and one spot has obviously been claimed by Coccino who honestly became my fallen angel child the second she was posted (although I had prepared myself to apply for Opalus but I don’t think we’re still a good fit at this point) but yeah, as of RIGHT NOW (it could change any second knowing me hahah) spot two has been claimed by Venatorem c: We’ll see once I’ve perfected & submitted this app I hope! And I was just fortunate enough to see the promo post on my dash & it drew me in immediately, just like a good promo post should :’)

[mrlyn]

are you applying for both Coccino and Opalus at poisonivy?

At this point, I’m not sure! I’ve grown attached to both and started writing a little bit of fun things for the two, but I’m not sure if I’ll end up submitting two applications. Also, there are plenty more skeletons to be released! I could fall in love a few more times before I make any final decision.