「 🔗 」 STATUS. ﹕ open.
「 🔗 」 LOCATION. ﹕ white oleander
「 🔗 」 FEAT. ﹕ theo & your muse.
“ i’ll be there in a sec ! ” theo calls out from the back as the bell by the front door sounds . she lets out a satisfied sigh as she eyes her latest arrangement before picking up the bouquet and venturing out towards the front of the shop . “ what can i getcha ? lookin’ for something specific ? or do you want some suggestions ? we’ve got some beautiful chrysanthemums that just came in today . ”
find yourself invited into tara’s apartment, + the one common thread is this: florals. artfully - arranged bouquets in crystal vases, pressed blooms between well - thumbed pages as bookmarks, sweet fragrance of blossom lingering in the air no matter where one dares to tread. ( white oleander sees most of her pay, + it’s almost a point of irrevocable pride. ) wide - eyed gaze, softened in the peculiar way it only ever does when she’s browsing latest skilful arrangements, snaps to theo the minute they drift into frame ; answering grin is wide, devoid of any pretense. “ i mean, i’m here to pick up my order from tuesday but you can always tempt me with chrysanthemums, you know that. ”
STATUS : open !
LOCATION : ophelion books , any time of day .
she was technically supposed to be stacking the books in the historical fiction section , not reading what appeared to be the thickest book in the store ( it was just a fantasy novel with six sequels and two novellas , rainey was on the fourth book at the moment ) . however , she was left alone at the front and with no one around to scold her , she had allotted herself the past hour to sit and do as she pleased . just as the trolls were about to attack the main character , someone rang the bell , alerting her . “ oh hey , sorry , my bad . i promise i'm usually a better employee . what's up ? ”
he’s always favoured bookshops. centuries come + go, fads capture the fleeting shape of attentions here + there, but books are a mainstay. ask him of his collections, + severin will light up in rapture … it’s always time well spent, then, to browse. to peruse. “ that one’s quite good. ” softly - spoken, fondness is a gild in quiet, melodic tones. “ i particularly enjoyed the fifth in the series. a feat of prose, if you ask me. ” nobody did, really, but he’ll digress. feline steps bring him closer to the counter, slightest tilt to his head — would be wolfish if not for the kindness in golden hues. “ just browsing at the moment, don’t mind me. i’m after some good vintage finds. ”
blasting family tree (intro) by ethel cain down main street we’ve spotted severin faisal sporting their black burberry trench coat, collar perpetually popped. the thirty4 (actual age unknown) year old vampire who’s been in town for ten years often can be seen lounging gracefully before a tasting platter of new reds at the old haunt, negotiating prices for the gallery in delightfully clipped tones, tending to a beloved garden or working as a curator at portum art museum. people say they display metropolitan and eremitic traits, but we rather trust their vibes: a fleet of sleek towncars, + a sweet juxtaposition between a well - loved pair of leather gloves, dirt - caked, worn at the fingertips but beloved beyond belief. half - burnt candles in votives, their romantic, dim ambiance flickering on tomes over than anybody dares to question. golden glimmer to narrowed hues, predatory but kind about their ruthless pursuit. waves, pulled in by their silver compass, crashing along the shore in rhythmic, peaceful interludes. also, we’ve heard they love secondhand books, especially with handwritten dedications ! aren’t they fascinating ?
[ 𝙻𝙾𝙰𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶... ] ꗃ 𝙨t𝖺t𝗂𝙨t𝗂𝖼𝙨.
name: severin hamzi faisal. nicknames: sev, if he’s got a particular fondness for you. otherwise, he doesn’t respond to them. age: physically, thirty4. actual age unknown — he estimates somewhere 1,000+ years old. date of birth: unknown, but makes it a habit of having his birthday in a different month every year. place of birth: bath, england. species: vampire. gifted with psychometry. nationality: british. gender + pronouns: demi man, he/they. orientation: fluid, along both the romantic + sexual spectrums. zodiac: chuckles nervously. too old to understand what ‘gemini energy’ is + why they appear to radiate it.
mother: unknown. no memories of her linger. father: also known. no known memories or traces of him. siblings: none. marital status: has been in a vexatious, centuries - long situationship that makes him want to commit violence. wc to come. children: despite having turned a small multitude, he has a small group of ‘foster children’ (vampires he’s turned), as it were, that he’s particularly fond of. wcs to come. extended family: none of any major note. pets: a silky black cat, called manon. he loves that damn cat.
hair: black, a cascade of curls that falls to his jawline + curls over the collar of any shirt he ever wears. eyes: dark brown with golden rings around the pupil. framed by thick, dark, long lashes that hold the most enviable natural curl. height: six foot. build: ectomorph. long, lean, lithely muscular. built like a damn predator, + there’s a strange satisfaction that comes from kinowing that. signature scent: tom ford’s wood oud. dominant hand: right. allergies: none. distinguishing features: long, dextrous fingers. dimpled smile. deeply expressive eyebrows. tattoos: none. piercings: none. scars: two puncture wounds, long faded, at the juncture of his neck. clothing style: his clothing style in public versus at home is chalk + cheese. in public, everything is sleek — velvet, satin, fine fabrics all around, primarily in jewel tones. button - downs are left open at the throat, the sleeves rolled up their forearms. trousers are slim - fitting, tailored + almost dazzlingly expensive but subtle about it. lots of outerwear — in particular, a black burberry trench coat with the collar forever popped to accentuate the sharp line of their jaw. jewelry is simple, but makes a statement — a gold chain around his neck, a delicate, vintage watch, + a signet ring. at home, they’re far more cosy. sleek aesthetic is traded for sweaters with elbow patches, comfy trousers with elastic waistbands. big fan of slippers. owns an embarrassing amount of flannel pajamas.
occupation: art gallery curator @ portum art museum. deals art + antiques on the side, but that’s more for fun. occasionally does some translation work as well. education: had very little when he was mortal, but he’s made it a point to become as well - educated as possible. he’s got eternity to learn as much as he can, doesn’t he ? favours the arts, humanities, english, et cetera. does have a fondness for the natural sciences, but can’t stand mathematics. religion: muslim. faith is a strange comfort for the immortal, he knows this. socioeconomic standing: upper class. habits: cracking his knuckles. clicking his tongue. drums fingertips on every single available surface. ambitions: none of any major note.
mbti: infj, the advocate. enneagram: type 4w5, the bohemian. element: air. temperament: sanguine. character inspirations: tba. deadly sin: greed. heavenly virtue: kindness. anthems: tba.
[ 𝙻𝙾𝙰𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶... ] ꗃ 𝙧𝗲𝖼𝗲𝗇t𝙨.
last watched: gentlemen prefer blondes (1953), dir. howard hawks.
last read: crime and punishment, fyodor dostoyevsky. in its original russian.
last listened to: morning radio, where he cringed at benson boone + admits to shimmying to texas hold ‘em, just a little bit.
last social media post: an extensive, grammatically - correct comment on a post in one of his facebook gardening groups.
[ 𝙻𝙾𝙰𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶... ] ꗃ t𝗂𝖽𝘣𝗂t𝙨.
old man (affectionate). one of the kids has 100% had to coerce them into social media, + even then, he’s one of those people that unironically sends thumbs - ups on facebook. just abysmal, really.
on psychometry: he really does view it as a gift. lays a lot of hands on pieces at work, just to soak up their stories — has 100% turned fakes away for exactly that reason. finds it a fascinating study in learning a lot about people.
very much a people person, despite an outward exterior that would send most running for the hills. whilst he has a resting bitch face for the ages, he genuinely enjoys spending time with people. fantastic active listener.
gift giver extraordinaire. he just knows what gifts people will love. also wraps them beautifully.
fond of telling stories that sound almost fake. ask them about the time they just about flirted william shakespeare into bed, or the time they served in queen victoria’s court. you’d be inclined not to believe them, until they tell you rich details that couldn’t possibly be known by someone who hadn’t lived it.
firm on his saturday morning routine, which is as follows: wake up, make the bed. feed the cat. have a shower, get ready. go out. first stop: the sweetest tooth, for an almond latte + a croissant, where he reads the paper + chats to anybody who will stop for a second. (tips. heavily.) next: the library, where he drops his latest finished books back + picks up more. the local farmers’ market next, to gather ingredients for dinner. home, then, to potter + to spend the day as he pleases. the night always ends with classic jazz + a glass of what looks like a full - bodied merlot, but … isn’t. yikes.
stunning handwriting for someone who was 100% born a medieval peasant.
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