bittersweet @blackwoodsylvia - Tumblr Blog

#an appreciation post

VERITY.

closed starter for: @blackwoodsylvia

location: some street?? in town, mid-october

She was in a bad mood. But really, was she ever in a good mood?

Verity’s purposeful steps were punctuated by the rapid clicking of her heels on concrete, the probability of running into someone she knew in a small town like Crescent Harbor beginning to fray her nerves. She’d never been one to favor long term relationships, preferring the anonymity and quick turnover within big cities. Her disinclination towards small talk was, perhaps, a self-fulfilling prophecy, because in the next moment, her shoulder bumped into another, the passerby walking in the opposite direction. A scowl began to form on her features, though it quickly faded when her gaze landed on the other woman.

In a move that would have been a beat too late to be a true knee-jerk reaction but still quick enough that calling it intentional could be up for debate, Verity’s hand shot out to knock over the cup of coffee Sylvia had been holding. She gave a wide eyed gasp for flair as the dark liquid spilled onto the street.

“Well. Little Sylvie Blackwood,” Verity all but cooed in place of an apology. “A pleasant surprise.” A corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk, a silent dare for Sylvia to dispute the statement.

**

It was her lunch break. She’d packed her own lunch but had been snacking on it all day, so when she got her break, she ran out to get coffee.

The day took a turn for the worse when Verity rammed into her. She opened her mouth to tell her off until she knocked the drink right out of her hand. She jumped back, not wanting to get stains on her suede booties. Her look of disbelief and despair melted away as she turned a glare to Verity. Sylvia crossed her arms over her chest, standing up straighter because, even if the other girl was taller, she wanted to assert her dominance. Somehow, at the use of the old nickname, her face became even more sour as she didn’t even try to pretend she was ecstatic to see her. “A pleasant surprise?” She all but scoffed, any hope lost that’d she’d become a decent human being since the last time the two saw each other.

“It’s a real shame you knocked over my coffee. How crazy that you ran into me at just the right angle to do so.” Her mouth moved to form a tight-lipped smile after hurling the thinly veiled accusation. “I haven’t seen you around. Thought’d you moved. Why haven’t you?”

#conversations #c: verity #verity dominicis 001 #// literally going to go report her to tumblr for bullying

donotworrydarling

Florence Pugh on Little Women and Meryl Streep

#v: winter dreams and roses

FOR: @elliespencer

They’d met shortly after Sylvia moved back to town. She’d taken a quick liking to the other girl, admiring the competitive spirit of her. They were fast friends, though she felt compelled to schmooze everyone she met as if she needed the whole town to support her. She was compelled to get to know Ellie better, wanting to discover the source of her drive, the thing that made her tick. She often searched for signs that women could be ambitious, and it wasn’t some kind of crime or fatal sin, but rather something that would enrich her life.

She took a sip of her margarita, a go-to drink for her, facing the other girl with a serious look. “Right, well,” she said after setting her glass down, “what’s the weirdest thing you’ve encountered when working?” She was immensely interested in her work. A job she’d never consider because helping others wasn’t high on her list of priorities. She had to watch her own back first and foremost before thinking of others. Sylvia pushed her hair off her shoulders as she waited for Ellie’s answer.

#conversations #c: ellie #ellie spencer 001

FOR: @johnbernsteinx

She walked into the gallery, purse brushing against her hip in time with her steps. She was on time as she was every day. Punctuality was important in her eyes, revealing how much an event mattered to the person. She came in like clockwork, not a minute earlier and not a minute later. There was confidence in her step, most of it natural, but it was exaggerated by the good news she was carrying. Before getting herself situated for the day, she looked around, searching for her coworker to share the news, to make it a priority.

When she found him, she was grinning from ear to ear. A genuine smile was hard to find on her face as she often opted for a scowl. “So,” she began, one hand clutching the strap of her purse. “I talked to some old contacts from Nashville. A couple of artists have agreed to show their work here. Authentic, southern, grassroots art. It’ll be like nothing you’ve ever seen.” The gallery was charming as is, but it couldn’t hurt to get more of a mix of artwork.

#conversations #c: john #john bernstein 001 #// here you go a million years later :)

FOR: @saintbayrak

She heard his name thrown around plenty of times since returning, but she’d never met him. Whenever Sylvia brought up business with her mother or father, they waved her off, still not taking her seriously despite her degrees and despite her experience. They’d talk about it, talk about their disappointment in her older brother, but they rebuffed any attempt she’d made to help. After weeks of bombarding Raymond with questions and suggestions and facts, he agreed to let her shadow him a few days a week. It was a start. With that permission, she finally had her foot in the door and was going to do whatever she needed to continue to amass power.

So, she set out to introduce herself to Saint, feeling as if she should get to know those who worked for Blackwood Industries just as much as she felt they needed to get to know her. He wasn’t in the office when she came in, but figuring he wouldn’t be out long, she took a seat, her arms wrapped around the fruit basket in her lap. When she heard the door open, Sylvia turned around and smiled at who she only presumed was Saint. Not getting up or extending a hand to greet him, she remained seated and said, “hi, I’m Sylvia. Sylvia Blackwood.”

#conversations #c: saint #saint bayrak 001 #// uuuuhhh better late than never ??? /

crescentharborrp

BASICS

Name: Sylvia Blackwood.

Gender/Pronouns: cisfemale, (she/her).

Date of Birth: October 24, 1995.

Age: 25.

Hometown: Crescent Harbor, Washington.

Length of time in Crescent Harbor: Lived there for 18 years before leaving. She has been back for the last two months.

Neighborhood: Sunstone Beach.

Occupation: Art Curator.

Faceclaim: Florence Pugh.

BIOGRAPHY

Growing up, she felt like nothing more than a porcelain doll. Her parents owned her, playing with her when they needed, and quietly tucking her away on the shelf when they were done. They combed her hair and put her in pretty dresses to show off to all their friends. They told her that they loved her and she was beautiful, but they never gave her a mind of her own, only projecting their desires on what they wanted her to be. Soon, she found herself picking out dresses and braiding her hair, smiling as she looked up at the people leeching off their family with wide eyes. Soon, she couldn’t tell what was her own idea and what was her parents. Little Sylvie Blackwood, a nickname that never failed to make her feel five years old, was content in her life of luxuries, too scared to question the gilded cage she was until she learned to love it.

She’d always been confident as her mommy and daddy filled her head with pretty words. They loved her. They cared for her. They gave her anything she asked for. She had an older brother she loved. In her eyes, the house was full of love, and she was too naive to see otherwise. As she got older and the innocence melted away from her, nothing changed in the way her parents treated her, but she noticed the rift between her father and her brother. Scared of losing the perfect lifestyle, she buried herself in her mother’s arm as she whispered sweet nothings against her hair. She sunk happily into the little comfort, trusting in her mother, trusting that she knew what was best.

Her father poisoned her against her brother. She never rebelled, never questioned anything he said as he ruled their family with an iron fist. She was weak back then, letting herself be molded like a piece of clay. Sylvia thrived in school, using the same tactics her father used to rule the halls of school from elementary school through high school. It was the only way she knew how to interact with others, having never known anything else. She was loved, and she was feared, with the students being unsure whether to bow at her feet or to throw her into the harbor. But the teachers adored her. She was smart, the first to raise her hand in class, and every holiday bringing homemade cookies for all their hard work.

It was hard to pinpoint when she changed, when she flipped a switch and gained ambitions of her own. Maybe it was when she chose to be a cheerleader instead of joining the equestrian team at the beginning of high school. Maybe it was when she had her first kiss or broke her first heart, realizing she had power over others. Maybe it was the way she watched her brother get sent away to New York, not welcomed back to the family. She wanted to be better than him as she didn’t want to get sent away too. She kept her wide, innocent eyes, giving a sugary sweet smile to any adult who looked her way. She was picture perfect – kind, compassionate, loving, and uncorrupted. But the gears were always spinning in her head. The same teachers who loved her, she used that to get extensions on assignments she’d forgotten to do as she was out all night drinking. Sylvia went where her parents wanted her and was the shining, golden child at all their functions. She was the belle of the ball and the life of the party, being whoever was required of her in any given situation. It wasn’t enough for her. She wanted everything the world had to offer. She was Sylvia Blackwood, and she intended to get it.

It wasn’t easy, but she convinced her parents to let her move away and attend Dartmouth for university. There she double majored in business and psychology with a minor in art history. She had the chance to explore what she wanted to do and realized she wanted a bigger part in the family’s holdings. They never considered her a contender, just a doll with no brain, no ideas of her own. In doing so, she was shattered, left to pick up the pieces on her own, and build a better, stronger version of herself. She’s colder and cunning, but deep down, she still has a big heart, yearning for love with no strings attached. After she graduated, she stayed and worked in Tennessee, living with her boyfriend at the time. It was a means to an end, but it was a chance for her to discover herself.

When Sylvia heard of the unrest with her brother and the company back home, she broke up with her boyfriend, packed her bags, and booked the first ticket home to Crescent Harbor. She’s back with a vengeance, hungry for blood and for glory, ready to take the company into her own hands.

PERSONALITY

+ charismatic, ambitious, resourceful.

- arrogant, callous, deceitful.

#i: about

killbilled

So, what do we feel about what we just heard here? I mean, I hear it. I hear it. Uh-huh. Big words. Good words.

nateblackwood

@blackwoodsylvia ft. raymond sr.

#m: a romance a joke and a war #ft. nate #ft: raymond sr

Lily.

closed starter for @blackwoodsylvia location: anchor management date/time: sunday november 1st at noon

Lily wasn’t surprised that she made plans with Sylvia the morning after the Halloween party, even more so that she didn’t cancel on the Blackwood heiress once she realized how exhausted she was the morning after. Lily needed this, a small moment of normalcy and catching up with an old friend. Brunch was something that both of them enjoyed, something they bonded over a few times in Tennessee - more so than they ever had in their native Washington. The daughters of Crescent Harbor’s two most prominent families sitting opposite each other at brunch was not something that would’ve happened in their adolescence - who would’ve thought that a fondness would develop without their parents’ constant prodding being a factor?

“So, both of us thought we’d be staying in Nashville. And now here we are, back in this town,” Lily mused with a wry smile, taking a sip of her mimosa. It was perhaps what both families wanted, their daughters back within their grasps. “I’m sorry it took me so long to actually schedule this, last month was… something.” That was the succinct way of explaining that stressful events had occurred without going into detail. While Sylvia was more than likely aware of the chronology of events within her own family, Lily didn’t want to divulge any information on the fact that there was also tension within the Whittaker ranks as it was far too sensitive or a topic. “There’s the seasonal brunch menu too, if you’re feeling for that. I’ve tried the apple French toast, it was delicious but definitely on the sweet side. I may try the butternut squash frittata, though. And of course, there’s the regular menu with all the classics. Anything standing out to you?” she asked the blonde from across the table.

***

Returning home had been much easier knowing that she had someone she considered a good friend in Crescent Harbor. It had been years since she last visited, and having Lily around served to anchor her to her past life in Tennessee. It was an unlikely friendship, but away from the watchful eyes of their parents, the two girls easily found their footing around each other.

As Sylvia sat in the chair scanning the menu, she almost felt like a stranger. It was the town that had changed but her. She’d been back a few months by now, but sometimes, it only felt like days and others it felt like she had never left. “I’d go back to Nashville if only to catch a glimpse of the sun,” she muttered. The weather had never bothered her growing up, but after spending time in the southeast, she felt spoiled. “Want to talk about it?” She asked, looking up from the paper in her hand. Part of her wanted to be a shoulder for her friend to lean up, but she couldn’t resist the opportunity to get dirt. She’d always been a gossip; although, she was rather good at convincing others to freely give up their secrets when she wanted to be. Setting one menu down, she picked up the other, looking at the seasonal options. “All of this food looks good, but you’ve convinced me to go with the apple french toast.” If only because it was a limited offer. “Get the frittata, and you can always have some of my french toast.” Sharing was always a skill she had to be purposeful about. She’d been spoiled growing up, showered in riches, but she and Lily had grown close, so it was easy with her. She set the menu down and to brought her bloody mary up to her lips. “I will say, as good as Nashville’s food was, there is nothing that can live up to the meals here. It might just be nostalgia, but it’s what I missed the most. Do you think you’ll ever go back?”

#conversations #c: lily #lily whittaker 001 #// i gave up on finding a gif oopsies

Name: Sylvia Blackwood

Nicknames: Sylvie (but don’t call her that if you value your life)

Gender: Cis Female

Age: 25

Date of Birth: October 24, 1995

Hometown: Crescent Harbor

Education: University

Occupation: Art Curator

#i: about #// also it's 6:30 am so my b for any typos

DIANA.

location: anchor management closed: @blackwoodsylvia

Diana slouched at the table, allowing herself a moment of relief from a decent posture that had become strenuous with her third trimester. Perhaps to make up for it, she busied herself by straightening the silverware and condiments on the booth, organizing it in a way that she thought was more pleasing to look at. Experts would look at her and call it nesting, she would perhaps call it jitters. Nerves. A side effect of the disease that was being a Blackwood.

She turned when a shadow crossed the booth, straightening her spine with a warm smile – at least, she thought it was warm – on her lips. “Hi,” she greeted, placing a hand on her table to push herself up to perhaps hug Sylvia, she wasn’t sure. She was stopped by her stomach meeting the table and she let out a small laugh as she dropped back down, the two inches proving too much for her. “I think I’m past the point of standing up and sitting down whenever I want,” she admitted, a little apologetically. “But… know I’m hugging you in my heart.” She patted the spot on the table across from her. “How are you? It’s… been a bit.”

As she walked into the restaurant, she pushed her sunglasses onto her head and strode over to the table where Diana sat. She smiled politely at her. A pleasant reaction as if she wasn’t late because she contemplated canceling last minute. Sure they were family, but that didn’t mean Sylvia had to be desperately trying to meet with her. Her smiled warmed at the sight of her cousin’s growing belly, pleased another Blackwood was soon to be born into the world. “No need to strain yourself on my behalf,” she said with a small shrug, the strap of her purse sliding down her arm with the motion. “It’s the thought that counts.” Throwing out the cliched was her way of talking without truly saying anything.

She sat down across from the other, crossing her legs as she did so. “I’m well,” she began, unsure of how much she wanted to disclose. “Work has been keeping busy, so I’m alright. How are you? When’s the due date again?” Sylvia gestured to Diana, making idle small talk to distract from any reluctance she had to coming.

#conversations #c: diana #diana amari 001 #pregnancy tw