of hearts

isola affiliated Vincent Nightray from Pandora Hearts | Rank: Dwarf | Housing: House 137 | Abilities: Summon Dormouse 5x per day to put someone to sleep for 1 minute | Weapon: Safety scissors

[demiosed-blog]

@envyswake

If he were to admit anything, it was that his mask was becoming more and more difficult to don. Not for lack of want, but for exhaustion. Little point was to be had for wearing it, anyone from his own world knew him for what he was, but...

That simply meant one had to get back into practice, didn’t it?

And so he found himself in the midst of current culture. A ‘nightclub’, seeming to be this place’s version of the gentleman’s clubs of his own era. Dark, candlelit, full of those wearing literal and figurative masks where they partook in whatever they needed to shield from the light of day.

Here it was neon, glowing.

The barkeep asked him if he wanted anything, a gloved hand resting on his chin.

“Whatever drink he’s having.” A gesture to the bright-haired man sitting next to him. A random target, simply next to the open seat at the bar.

[demiosed-blog]

resoundingstrings‌:

Noise looked at him in confusion. She remembered what he’d said in their last meeting, and what Echo had said to him, but what did that have to do with her?  

“…You said we don’t need Echo anymore. That means I can be with you all the time, can’t I?” 

She interpreted his words as a rejection of Echo. After all, Echo had been the one to serve him. She was different. Vincent treasured her, accepted her at a time when no one else would. He wouldn’t ever reject her.

Cocking his head to the side, his bangs shifted. Frowning, he considered her words, but then, considered his own at the time too. The memories were blurred, but the sentiment remained - and his new master would want him to reject her anyway, no? If only for what she represented.

There was a part of him, too, that knew his rejection was a kindness. Or, at the very least, the right thing to do. But he did not care about that, at least not for the moment.

“I said I had no use for a dead girl.”

“Tell me then, what use would I have for two dead girls?”

[huitiemefils]

@demiosed  ✂ ✂ ✂ 

  The spectacle is nothing short of dazzling, Louis thinks, sliding a glance down the long runway where models of all types proudly showcased their creations to an eager, if not slightly rowdy audience. He regrets not having a camera with him, but is content with taking snaps of his favourite designs using his loaned cellphone. That is, until the battery fizzled out and he decides to leave the exposition in search of some juice.

  He recalls seeing a charging station when he’d first arrived and heads back in that direction, only for his search to halt prematurely upon noticing a figure on the ground. The first thought to surface is that they might’ve suffered a malaise, but upon taking closer steps it appears they’re just sound asleep.

❝ Excuse me. ❞

  Louis crouches and settles a hand on their shoulder, shaking gently.

❝ Are you feeling alright? ❞ 

[demiosed-blog]

He did not wake with the shock of someone who was sleeping where he should not be. Instead it was with the laze of someone who was sleeping in his own bed. In fact, he seemed positively peaceful as he sat up, stifling a yawn with his gloved hand.

“That is..Hm,” pausing, he thought, “Thrice today. With any luck it should be only two more.” Not one to think out loud, it was simply the quick thinking of another voice so close to him that had caused him to play his facade so quickly and easily. Turning to the other, smile on his face, he chuckled.

“Oh my, I had thought perhaps I had made it to a bench, but it appears that tricky old Dormouse gave me no such luck.” Standing, Vincent offered a hand to the other that had crouched to check on him, wanting to help them up.

Or, rather, wanting to at least seem that way. Politeness was the way to go with this kind of thing.

“Forgive me,”

“It can be difficult sometimes, being given the power I have. Particularly in such limited amounts - Dormouse can get finicky.” Another pause, another chuckle, “And forgive me once again, it’s likely that I’m simply prattling on about something you don’t know. Not that I expect you to.”

[demiosed-blog]

tragedysorchestrator‌:

There was no way the other could fool Leo. Despite the short time they’ve known one another and how much they observe one another, that sort of switch demeanor was not going to get pass him. A thin frown cross his lips before he decides to not bring that up. Not yet anyways.

“Indeed. I guess since you were so use to coming to these sorts of gathers, I would have seen some kind of fake expression that you were really enjoying your time here. Able to fool anyone who didn’t know you. But I won’t dive into the topic further. i have other, important matters to discuss.”

Just arriving at this place is certainly a shock for him. Surprise to see his servant taking all of this so well. “This isn’t anything we’ve seen, right? This isn’t some unknown work of the Abyss. I want to hear it from you, and know what this place is all about.” Despite not having disdain for Oswald, there is still a small, sour spot he felt for the past host. He rather have Vincent confirm everything that was said… 

Though no one would ever here Leo say that out loud.

“It’s different here.” His facade fell for a moment as the boardwalk filled with more and more dancing in joy. Different people, from different places, all wearing whatever they had come with or had left on. Drinks in their hands and happiness on their faces. He loathed them with every fiber of his being.

Not that he did not loathe the nobles he normally danced with, but these were different. Nobles from his world often pretended to be happy. A simple facade that was so simple to see through. They were more like him than they knew, and that made them simple to trick.

These people were foreign to him in more way than one.

“But no, this is not any unknown work of the Abyss. I have been here once before, briefly.” Turning to the other, he regarded Leo for a moment, words at the tip of his tongue. “What I am about to say will hurt and confuse you, but may also be...” Good? Hopeful?

“The dead walk freely here, Master Leo. Alongside the living. And so many who do not know what a Chain is, nor a Baskerville nor the Abyss. It is as though we have been whisked away to some unknown plane of existence. Away from that final battle and everything accompanying it.”

[aneerietale]

With there being a frigid bite in the air Nikkari found it near impossible trying to pry himself out of bed most gelid mornings and even wrapped in nearly three layers the wakizashi still manages to fall prey to the decline in temperature. Nose a light dusting of red and hands stuffed deep inside his pockets he strides through the park after a quick trip to the store with renewed vigor. The faster he walks the faster he gets home, the faster he gets home the warmer he’ll be, and the warmer he’ll be the sooner he can dethaw those numb fingers of his and put them to proper use by whipping himself up some hot cocoa. 

All goes according to plan until out of the corner of his eye he sees a familiar heap of limps curled up into a ball on one of those park benches. Trying to recall his name as Nikkari unwittingly approaches he’s pretty sure it was something western like Scott. Or Lance? Or was it Fredrick? Ehh… the name is lost to him. Crouching down, his face mere centimeters away Scott, Nikkari pokes lightly at his face. 

A soft boop to the nose.

“Hey guy. You sure like your sleeping huh? Are you homeless or something?”

@demiosed

[demiosed-blog]

Heterochromatic eyes opened and regarded the other with mild displeasure. Why was he dressed so warmly? Sure, the temperature had dropped overnight as the seasons began to turn, but...

Wait, it was...Dawn. All he remembered last was speaking with Noise, and then he had wound up here. Sitting up, hair askew from his slumber, he looked around with minor annoyance. Rubbing his nose, as though the ghost of being touched lingered, he adjusted himself into an upright position. Focusing, he recognized the other from his brief foray here before this.

“Ah,”

“Not quite, although I have been moved since the last time I was here. I cannot say I am used to living with other people. Although this,”  he gestured to the bench, “Was not purposeful.”

[sixofclovers]

A commission for an old friend of mine!! we were both obsessed w this when we were 14 lol

[resoundingstrings]

@demiosed

“Why did you leave me? You’re always leaving me…” 

Her voice trembled with dangerous emotion. Normally, to be reunited with Vincent would fill her with joy, but this time pain and bitterness flooded her. She knew how this would end. Every time he appeared before her, he would always vanish not long after, like some cruel trick of the light. Long enough to give her hope just to steal it away again. She didn’t know if she could bear it yet another time.

[demiosed-blog]

They had spoken the last time, hadn’t they? No, not quite. He had spoken to Echo, hadn’t he? Perhaps. Still, he looked down at the girl, expression muddled. Even before, he had not wanted to see her, either of them, and that remained now. He was simply supposed to remain by Master Leo’s side, that was all.

“Noise.” She was easy to pick out - distinguishing the two was simpler than one could even expect. Eyes closed, mask plastered on his face, he considered where he stood. What he was supposed to do...

Echo and Noise were symbols of who he was trying not to be, and since Master Leo was here, he was supposed to be good.

“I thought I had said I last time I had no need for a servant? I am nobody’s master now, you know.” Eyes opened, his expression fell for a brief moment.

[tragedysorchestrator]

“A bookstore? A perfect place to hide out from everyone who seems annoying.~ I expect nothing but the best from that place.” And perhaps may be able to… dare he say it, ‘get a job’.

[demiosed-blog]

A familiar yawn from between the stacks.

“What a lovely place for a nap, Master Leo.”

[tragedysorchestrator]

@demiosed

A festival was going on that seem to bring all kinds of people together. It was very reminiscent to a story that had pass. One that could have been filled with people enjoying themselves. Having fun. Playing music while having tea and cake. A time that could never happen, but it must have in a different story line with everyone. At least Leo would like to believe so. He was sure that everyone would have had a grand time with such a ridiculous tea party that Oz would have conducted.

Though looking among the crowd, there was one person that seems to stand out from everyone. Not because of the outfit. Not because of the hair color, or hair length. It was something that drew Leo in- a sense of familiarity that came over to see the blonde among the crowd. Or lack of a better word, attempting to remove himself from the crowd.

Without missing any kind of beat, Leo follow close by before grabbing the other’s attention. Despite his creepy and sadistic nature, Vincent was still his servant. Taking in a breath, he had to remind the other (as well as the other in his mind) who was in charge of the Baskervilles.

“Are you just going to walk away from a crowd like that? Without an attempt to dance with someone here? What sort of servant are you to just leave in the middle of a festival you dragged yourself into.”

[demiosed-blog]

There was nobody here he knew.

And while had he been more comfortable being thrust back into this setting - he was, after all, excellent at pretending. He could dance and charm his way through any party. Lord and ladies alike gathering invitations for someone like himself. His red eye seductive in the potential danger it held to those who were aware and those completely unaware. A source of exoticism for some, tantalizing fear for others.

But here was not there, and given the particularly fragile state he had left home in - even if he had brief recollections of a place like this - he felt rather lost. Powerless as well. In a strange new home with strange people.

Stopping in his tracks as a familiar voice followed him, the shock on his face was palpable as he turned swiftly to see the other, blonde hair falling across his features. “I-”

In that moment, he was fit to bursting with joy. It was not that he held the love for Leo that he held for Gilbert, but there was someone here that he could dedicate a cause to. And, in his heart of hearts, deep down where he dare not reach nor speak of lest Gil become angry with him once more.

His presence in such a place benefited Leo Baskerville. Even if he would have preferred Gilbert, he would likely only end up causing the other pain.

“Master Leo,” his features turned away from the shock that had been there, and a smile was plastered over the kicked dog expression from before.

“Forgive me, I was acting quite unbecoming. Even if I had accidentally come here, I should, of course, act as though I belong even though we both know that’s to the contrary.”

[demiosed-blog]

@willthereben0ne

The small stuffed animals, so familiar despite their whole state, were weighed in his hands. On the one hand, there was sentimentality in their doom if he took them home. On the other hand, there was also regression. One gloved hand pressed on the toy rabbit’s ear before he looked down at the only other person here at this time of day, shopping at the event. It seemed there was some sort of festival going on, and this was not a normal fixture.

She was looking at him now.

“Oh? Did you want one of these?” The smile was plastered on as he gripped the stuffed rabbits, whether or not he would hand them over remained to be seen.

[demiosed-blog]

@soletaire

Perhaps it would be simpler to walk away.

After all, he had dedicated his life to Leo, and despite the connection and perhaps tenuous nature of just who was the Glen, he was not Leo. This man was a ghost at best. A phantom at worst. A reminder of things best left locked away, hidden behind a key that thrown into the deepest recesses of his mind. Even here. Or, rather

Especially here. Where he was alone, utterly without guidance and likely prone...to...

At the moment, being prone to being unable to move. Blond hair fell across his face as he smile, self-depreciation across his features. It seemed there were still moments when he wished for that same wish not so long ago.

“I would leave your sight, but I find myself rooted right here.”

[iqopp]

I get a little bit genghis khan

[demiosed-blog]

;; and here’s an rp ad! probably wandering around spiraleFES or sleeping on a bench - capping at 4 with castmates/vnc muses exempt

[demiosed-blog]

VINCENT NIGHTRAY from PANDORA HEARTS

total garbage can trash boy shit bag but with a stellar redemption arc like what the fuck climbed my list like 20 spots in the last ten chapters of the series

major trauma, intensely major trauma throughout his life

doesn’t excuse his shitty behavior and the way he acts towards people like at all

even remotely

he’s awful, he’s manipulative, and he sees people as tools

but also pitiable in his own way once you get into the series

very cold and calculating, hides it very well for a long time under a charming veneer

still kind of having a bit of a crisis at the moment - being dragged away the moment you become emotionally vulnerable is less than ideal

trying to be a good person but i just cut out literally a hundred years of character development so you get him right when he’s trying to be good

was on the island before but didn’t really make many friends, but at least he’s not confused

[isolaradiale]

i'd like to re-apply as Vincent Nightray from Pandora Hearts! App can be found under /app or Application on the sidebar

Welcome back!

You’ll be staying in HOUSE 137!

You’ll retain everything from your previous stay!

Enjoy!

–Mod Lyra

[demiosed-blog]

?? ;)

lazy roleplayers meme | accepting

??: write you a starter

wow u thirsty??

[demiosed-blog]

@desipiam

(How tacky.)

He was used to the ostentatious displays, and while he was not one for drinking, he needed to explore the Golden Ward to the fullest. While it was not the most familiar to him technologically, it was familiar to him culturally.

It was tacky. It was upper class. But this was the kind of game he knew how to play. Gambling was something he knew how to do - strategy, manipulation. Old hat.

Sliding onto a seat the bar, fingers steepled, he observed the equally ostentatious and pink barkeep. Bars were usually excellent sources of information.

“Here’s hoping the food and drink are not games of chance as well. What kind fo wine do you have available?”