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affiliated évariste c. aubert (OC) lumi. subgiant | apt. 304 | golden pls read rules before following :)

[allswell]

— la vie est faite de petits bonheurs

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🩸 Lord Évariste C. Aubert IV (OC)

it's a mouthful, so feel free to chose your own nickname :)

the 23-year-old Marquis de Chaumont (adopted) (fake)

4th 8th-circle mage graduate of the Violet Tower

and #4 of the top 12 assassins in The Chorus

genuinely nice and fun guy to be around

but could also kill you with a straw

would love to explore the world

and the human body 💕☺️

and all your insides

hobbyist tailor

wife died ☠️

! are those

scissors

stop

no

♥️

app 🩸 stats 🩸 laws 🩸 plotter call

[allswell]

at this rate he should just start collecting those projectiles

If he gathers enough of them, maybe he can trade them in for a prize?

[allswell]

how could you like my girlfriend but not me, her boyfriend™

[anttennatime]

Oop, he's gone-- Nope! He's back! Like a goddamn mosquito, buzzing in his ear.

"This isn't a reality show, Doll! There's no way that face is ever showing up on my screen again."

The feeling of something menacing behind him is, uncomfortable. But this is a performance, and he has an act to sell. For now? He lets the strange little man give him a hug, half-turning to face him. ... A grin forms in the blips of light that make up the Darkner's face, as a claw rips through the top of the glove on his finger. It's put underneath the man's chin, tilting it up to meet Tenna's towering gaze.

"Not like I need any more excuses to take a few shots at you. So by all means, my dear contestant! Keep playing a game you'll never win. You might get close, real close."

For emphasis, that claw traces down his neck to his collar, leaving just the faintest of lines.

"But that's all you'll be. On the edge of your seat, cliffhanger after cliffhanger. No relief, no happy ending for you. Unless that's the part of the show you enjoy. I'm not here to judge, just entertain."

And the claw retracts back into that friendly-looking glove, hiding a metal form underneath it. It's back to all smiles, business as usual.

"But it'll never happen. Alright? Now if you don't get lost, I'll actually aim next time I fire."

[allswell]

Hmm?

Cecil's eyes sparkle brightly when the claw unsheathes itself. There was always something unpredictable about this man-machine hybrid—so eager to please, yet so bizarrely twisted in moments here and there.

He wonders what it'd feel like, to see that kind of darkness in full. Perhaps Tenna knows this desire too—because then why would he deny him openly and revert back to his sunny self?

❛ You are a tease. ❜

❛ That is—what they say? Presque criminel. ❜ Almost criminal.

He gives the TV one last squeeze before letting go and skipping back out of the way.

❛ But we have stitched together a pattern now, no? So I will fulfill the promise of next time. Monsieur must practice his aim in earnest, to show his sincerity. ❜

[anttennatime]

Well! That's not what he expected! He wanted him to leave, not get all hot and bothered about it! Tactfully, the television puts his hand on the other's back, artfully spinning him into a dip as Cecil pulls his face closer, and... pointedly keeps him at nose-length from his face.

"I don't think you deserve the satisfaction, Mister Scissors. Keep dreaming."

At least he's flattered enough to give the courtesy of not immediately dropping him. No, he's got more flair than that--the man is picked back up and swung outward, not unlike a dance.

[allswell]

Cecil's grip on the other's fingers linger as he's cast out like a fish on a line. It's quite the shame that the TV who fished him up refused to reel him in—but he's a fan himself of swimming against the current anyways.

❛ If monsieur lets me keep dreaming, then one day I will live them in the flesh, no? ❜

❛ La persistance fuels a charming chase. I will catch you by the end. ❜

He teleports away and—no! He's still there behind him, closing in for a back hug!

[allswell]

@anttennatime // continued from here

❛ A kiss, monsieur, a kiss. ❜

❛ A taste of romance for your lips, hm? ❜

Standing on tiptoes, he reaches for Tenna's shoulders and pulls himself close—

[anttennatime]

roast moi

Send “Roast Me” and my muse will roast yours with any manner of disses and insults they can come up with

"Ohhhh, you. Mister Dandy himself. Sometimes, words just can't express how to really tear you a new one."

He takes the pistol out of his pocket and fires just short of the other's feet without any hesitation whatsoever. And then fires again for emphasis.

[allswell]

Cecil beams back.

❛ Monsieur would make a better point with his lips than his gun, no? ❜

❛ Do you need me to teach you how? ❜

[thustathata]

“I am… what?” Perhaps she would have kept on her way, had the language not eluded her. It pulled her eye and furrowed her brow.

She turned to him, lax yet critical. Piercing yellow eyes peering from beneath long orange lashes. She took in the sight of the stranger and was unsure of how to regard him. Something unseen rolled cold within her, as in in warning. Her sight of tao was apparent but unsteady and she had learned before to be wary and very careful of the fickleness of humans tao.

He spoke of stars and she paused. Was it wise to admit that she were alone here? She was almost destroyed the last time she was alone.

“…That depends. Who are you?”

[allswell]

❛ Someone like you, no? ❜ Cecil observes. ❛ A being in a world not my own. It is like so all over the island, with strangers everywhere. ❜

❛ Les étoiles malchanceuses ❜ —the unlucky stars— ❛ they toy with us so. I have set up a business in the meantime—a shop. ❜

He gestures vaguely in the direction of Archimedes, where Faucher Lace sits nestled amongst the winding streets.

❛ You would be enchanteur in it, bel inconnu. ❜ Enchanting, beautiful stranger. A hand flicks into his pocket and retrieves a classy-looking business card as explanation. ❛ So now, I am here—to recruit. ❜

[petaltexturedskies]

Katherine Mansfield, in a letter to J.M. Murry, written c. May 1921, from The Collected Letters

[allswell]

There is a box of macarons and a small 4-inch homemade cake left on Cecil's desk. Attached to the box of macarons is a note, this time scented with Vivi's latest choice of floral perfume. "Joyeux anniversaire, mon amour." Happy Birthday, my love "I tried some savory options for the macarons this time. May you enjoy them."

Vivi has signed the card in pink pen, and there's also a little pawprint - Gwen's signature - in pink ink.

❛ Ah, Vivi~ ❜

❛ You are also indulging me this day, yes? Merci, ma chérie. ❜

He addresses the air as he rests the perfumed note against his nose, breathing in the lighter mix of florals ahead of the coming summer season. Sweet and sparkling, an ideal mix for the hotter days up ahead. Perfume too, was a vital afternote in the world of fashion.

❛ But I feel like I should've asked Gwen to gift me something as well... ❜ he chuckles to himself, before taking out the first macaron and bringing it to his lips.

Like their owner, it unfolds and falls apart beautifully between his teeth.

[allswell]

At Cecil's shop, there's a giftbox set of....KNIVES!? They look pretty dangerous. They're definitely not used for cooking.

There's no letter. Typical Dam-bi!

@daxned

Even without names, the number of people who know him well enough to afford this kind of gift is rare and few. Narrowing down the options gives Cecil enough clues to guess who it might be, a discovery that makes him laugh.

❛ But of course, I am good at throwing. ❜ He picks up one of the knives to test—weighted at the blades, good for experienced users who put a spin into their throws.

❛ I will greet her with one the next time we meet. ❜

In the Chorus, of course. Faucher's wallpaper was too expensive to poke holes in willy-nilly.

[allswell]

Sebastian, of course, will get Cecil a gift! It's a vial of his own blood (you know, for reasons), and there's a box of a rather expensive fabric of clothing.

Ilseong also got wind of Cecil's birthday and has gotten him a ticket to one of those popular, fancy, large plays! He can bring a PLUS ONE. Also, some limited edition ribbons he found in the market. Maybe Cecil can use it at work!

HAPPY birthday, Cecil.

@occultacarne @ilsecng

Recognizing that particular shade of red, Cecil kisses the glass before teleporting to a certain cabinet where he stores his other vials of questionable liquids. The container Sebastian leaves him is unique enough that it doesn't have to be labeled before storage.

Coming back to his gifts, the marquis holds up the outfit first, surveying with a tailor's critical eye before deeming it outstanding in turns of stitching. Now, where to wear this...?

Oh, Ilseong's ticket would come in handy. But who to invite? Ilseong, who bought him the tickets? Sebastian, who prepared the outfit? Or his current petite amie, the vivacious Vivi at work? Of course, there was also Eiden who'd paid in advance with his body, his various little crushes around the island, and a host of other more unwilling subjects who would be funny to bring along just for discomfort's sake.

Setting down the outfit, Cecil stops to think.

❛ Don't tell me...it is time to meet someone new? ❜

[allswell]

❛ Eh bien, alors... ❜ Well, then...

❛ The next to make me laugh today will get a discount, yes? Let the day be a surprise for us both. ❜

[allswell]

Hands him new sp*t created ropes with roses on them. " ....Just do what you want for today." (Happy birthday you bully)

❛ More than usual, you mean? ❜ Cecil asks playfully as he accepts the gift.

❛ Mon cher, you are spoiling me, yes? ❜

But of course he accepts, and after planting a kiss on the other's cheek, it's off to whisk him away, roses and all~

Many scenes of a censored nature follows afterward...

[imnotdracula]

The weeks leading up to Mother's Day was exhausting and Soma was more than glad it was over. He had never had to smile harder and be perkier than he did with rich ladies with very expensive tastes.

"Yeah, I just moved them over to the gentlemen's section so we'd get the mannequins dressed faster." He walked over to the section and grabbed a few of the boxes. He placed them down in front of his coworker with a sigh.

"Father's Day is next month, so I wanted to make sure we had the latest ready. I even made sure to put it somewhere obvious, too."

[allswell]

❛ You see? ❜ Cecil gestures dramatically when Soma finishes speaking.

❛ That's how it is done. A little foresight here, a little preparation there—et voilà, the candidacy for employé du mois is chosen. ❜ Employee of the month.

He steps forward to tap Soma's shoulder next, gesturing at him to follow while the other employee bends down to check the contents of the boxes.

❛ C'est très bon. Now, to the dressing rooms with you. I am suddenly inspired, yes? ❜

[conjuringink]

If there's one thing Qifrey's good at, it's finding things he shouldn't have. Mostly due to the fact he was quite hopeless with directions, often getting lost even in the most familiar of places. Archimedes was all stark-white walls, much of it looked very much the same to him.

He feels quite like he really shouldn't have stumbled onto... whatever this is.

"My apologies," he responds pleasantly. "I'm not quite familiar with this part of the city."

The stench of cleaning supplies is nearly the same across all worlds, isn't it? This is a smell he can remember from his brief foray in the Medical Spire, usually when the medics were cleaning up before or after surgeries.

"...This is quite a peculiar location." Qifrey's eye flickers to the man before him, then to the door. "I would be careful. Some people might begin to think you're hiding something."

[allswell]

❛ Then they are too nosy for their own good, monsieur, ❜ Cecil points out. ❛ It is—how you say? The cat that climbs into the bag will suffocate. ❜

❛ You are looking for the markets, yes? Or the church, the theater? I can be une escorte. ❜ An escort.

Already he's stepping forward, either to push the man away or take his arm, whatever came easiest. A single touch and a teleport would resolve this snafu nicely.

❛ You are a standout yourself. A hat that tall is not nice for the doorways here, no? ❜

[allswell]

@thustathata

❛ But you are trés beau, no? ❜ Very beautiful.

❛ Too much to stay unclaimed. ❜

Looking at the human—being, creature—before him, Cecil stops to shower praise. There is something vibrant about the hair—yellow and an orange that bleeds nearly into red with the fading of the sun. Beside her—him, it—he is almost too pale in comparison: porcelain skin, silvery hair, eyes that always liquid mix of pinkish-purple pastels.

Fiyero had been much the same, a vibrant hue that seeped into his skin, his soul; there is a lack of the bard's easy warmth here however, that tells him to keep his distance.

Naturally, Cecil takes a step closer instead.

❛ Or did the Stars pluck you up and placed you here alone? ❜