[equiiibrium]

#EQUILIBRIUM

❈  Independent  &  Selective ,  Multi-muse  written  by  Ben.  Crossover  Welcome.  ❈

CARRD  |  PROMO  

[rosalie-starfall]

Lana Winters

[equiiibrium]

Like  this  post  for  a  starter  or  inbox  from  Lana  Winters.  Comment  to  plot ~

[wickprompts]

*  ―  VAMPIRIC STARTER PROMPTS .  

* tw for mentions of blood / drinking blood / death + murder .

Human. 

❝ that’s a lot of blood. ❞

❝ so you drink [human] blood ? ❞

❝ how long has it been since you fed ? ❞

❝ bite me. ❞

❝ you just bit me ! ❞

❝  i don’t believe in vampires. ❞

❝ i want to be your familiar. ❞ 

❝ can you turn in to a bat ? ❞

❝ you don’t have a reflection ! ❞

❝ so do you sleep in a coffin ? ❞

❝ you’re gonna need a bigger coffin. ❞

❝ so, how old are you really ? ❞

❝ your skin’s always so cold. ❞

❝ if you need to feed, you can bite me. ❞

❝ you can bite me, i trust you. ❞ 

❝ what does it taste like ? / what do i taste like ? ❞

❝ you’re [not] a monster. ❞

Vampire.

❝ drink this, you’ll feel better. ❞

❝ i’m [not] a monster. ❞

❝ i haven’t fed in awhile. ❞

❝ it’s dangerous for you to be here when i’m like this. ❞

❝ i want you to be my familiar. ❞

❝ forget what you think you know, vampires exist. ❞

❝ no, that’s a myth. ❞

❝ i’m not going to eat you. ❞

❝ you call it a myth, i call it a bad stereotype. ❞

❝ your taste so sweet / bitter / good / bad. ❞

❝ your blood smells so sweet / bitter / good / bad. ❞ 

❝ it’s been awhile since i tasted fresh blood. ❞

❝ you’re so warm. / i forgot how warm living is. ❞

❝ you have to invite me in. ❞

❝ i think i just killed someone. ❞

❝ honestly ? i’m terrified i’m going to have to spend eternity alone. ❞

Actions.   ( add a + to reverse the action ! )

[ BITE. ]  the sender bites receiver on the ( neck / wrist / thigh / bodypart ) to drink their blood.

[ TURN. ]  the sender turns the receiver into a vampire.

[ BLOODLUST ]  the sender has gone too long without feeding, base instincts taking over, the receiver finds them. 

[ COFFIN. ]  the sender stumbles upon the receiver sleeping in a coffin. 

[ STAKE. ]  after finding out the receiver is a vampire, the sender tries to stake them. 

[ MIRROR. ]  when passing a mirror, the receiver notices the sender does not have a reflection. 

[ OFFER. ]  after noticing the receiver hasn’t fed in a few days / weeks, the sender offers to let the receiver feed from them.

[ MESS. ]  the sender finds the receiver covered in blood that certainly isn’t their own.

[ LICK. ]  the sender licks blood from the receiver’s wound / finger.

[sororisatan]

                          𝖎  𝓴𝖓𝖔𝖜  𝓮𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 , 

                                                      𝓲'𝒎  𝓽𝒉𝒆  𝕯𝑬𝑽𝑰𝑳 .  

     indie, private & selective 𝖘𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 𝖊𝖚𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖊,                                                         penned with love by 𝖘𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖙 .  (  they / she  ,  21  )       carrd. 

[thisuserisgoneforthebest-deacti]

[equiiibrium]

Like  this  for  a  starter  or  inbox  from  Oliver  Thredson.  

[chainedyetadrift]

I miss Dr. Thredson. ( ._.)

[equiiibrium]

I think I’m going to be hanging out here as the semester goes on. Gonna try and start writing some characters I haven’t written in a long while. So that’ll be fun!

[equiiibrium]

bornofbloodandwater·:

“Of  course,  I  have  come  out  of  my  way  to  greet  you,  I,  Secondo,  am  polite.”  A  hand  pressed  to  her  chest.  Gold  reflecting  up  at  him  in  teasing  delight.  Absolutely  unfazed  by  his  aura,  the  almost  ever - present  violence  in  his  eyes.  “But,  you  are  correct.  I’m  incredibly  bored  at  all  hours,  in  fact.  Not  very  many  threats  to  his  life  within  the  four  walls  of  his  office.  I  already  child - proofed  all  the  sharp  corners.” They’re  practically  chest  to  chest.  The  siren  gazing  up  into  his  unco-ordinated  eyes.  The  smile  she  arrived  with  still  perfectly  in  place.   Her  tone  is  lowered  from  its  playful  lilt,  shifting  to  a  taunting  breathiness.  “Brave  of  you  to  stray  so  close  to  me,  Secondo.  Don’t  you  know  I  bite?”

                Polite!  An  interesting  lie.  Courtesy  does  not  live  in  the  realm  of  the  clergy  for  long,  only  civility  taking  root  out  of  necessity.  A  whiff  of  manners  within  the  walls  of  the  abbey  calls  in  the  hounds,  picking  away  until  there’s  nothing  left.  If  she  were  polite,  she  wouldn’t  be  here.  

Secundo  gives  no  sign  that  he  has  not  ignored  her  completely  until  child-proofing  is  mentioned.  It  is  tempting  to  smile,  but  she  would  only  consider  this  a  reward,  so  he  refrains.  Perhaps  she’s  deterred  all  existing  plans  to  move  on  the  current  pope?  “Your  devotion  to  your  position  is  a  gift  to  us  all.”  His  sarcasm  is  well  hidden,  difficult  to  spot...but  he  leaves  it  out  for  her  to  grasp.  

                                  This  intrigues  him,  expression  shifting  mildly  as  his  head  tilts  to  one  side.  “—Then  strike.”  He  invites,  waiting  a  moment  before  speaking  once  more,  thoroughly  enjoying  the  tension  that  infects  the  air.  “So  much  talk...so  little  action.”  

[withatouchofsin]

sometimes you just want to draw Sister Imperator in some proper late 60′s leather gear and it just uuuuhhhh… it just gets away from you

[equiiibrium]

Continued from here. 

@xorcists​

His  own  certainty  that  the  shouting  match  outside  the  ‘Whiskey  a  Go  Go’  had  been  drowned  by  booze  and  self-pity.  He  finds  himself  chasing  the  swish  of  her  blonde  hair  as  she  leaves  for  THE  LAST  TIME  in  the  space  between  dreams,  arms  outstretched  until  she’s  out  of  sight,  grasping  at  nothing  at  all.  His  own  protests  and  arguments  have  dissolved  overtime,  leaving  an  ugliness  in  their  place.  FAME.  She  whisked  him  away  into  this  life  and  exited  it  just  as  quickly.  

  —but  she’s  taken  his  hand  now  and  his  world  turns  right  side  up.  Immediately,  his  thumb  finds  the  back  of  her  hand,  smoothing  over  the  skin  there  as  if  his  touch  had  never  left.  

Nihil  squints  sheepishly  at  the  smell  as  well,  mostly  embarrassed  to  watch  her  take  it  all  in.  “I  didn’t  want  you  to  see  my  depression  shack.”  He  adds,  fishing  in  his  pocket  for  the  keys  to  the  touring  van.  It’s  small,  but  it’s  groovy...and  they’ve  done  a  lot  in  it.  At  ‘papa’,  his  head  raises,  gaze  meeting  hers  again.  He  abandons  his  search  for  a  moment,  the  hand  that  isn’t  holding  hers  coming  to  hold  her  arm,  squeezing  as  if  to  say,  ‘Everything’s  gonna  be  alright’.  “You  know  I’m  crazy  about  you,  right?”  How  could  she  not?  “—and  I’d  throw  it  all  away  if  you  asked  me  to.”  That  hangs  in  the  evening  air  like  a  promise  for  a  moment.  The  singer  snags  his  keys  and  tosses  them  to  her.  “I’ll  meet  you  in  there.”  

He  retreats  into  the  depths  of  the  tiny  motel  room,  face  illuminated  by  the  yellowish  light  of  an  old  minifridge  as  he  grabs  a  drink.  

[alicemarion]

@equiiibrium​:    do  you  thrive  off  of  being  a  problem?   or  is  it  just  who  you  are?    simon.

have  you  ever  considered  that  you’re  the  reason  for  the  problem  sitting  in  front  of  you?   or  maybe  you’re  just  a  symptom  of  a  greater  disease,   alice  muses  as  she  levels  the  corpse  of  a  man  with  as  much  venom  as  she  can  muster  in  one  look.   hate  is  a  strong  term:   but  she  has  never  been  more  certain  of  the  fact  of  entirely  loathing  someone  than  the  feeling  peacock  inspires  in  her.   maybe  she  would  have  been  more  concerned  over  her  rational  lack  of  empathy  for  the  whistleblower  if  she  was  more  in  touch  with  her  missing  digit.   the  stub  no  longer  aches,   but  she  misses  the  familiar  presence  of  her  little  finger  all  the  same.

❝   may  as  well  be  my  job  if  it’s  causing  you  any  trouble.   ❞     those  dreamy  blue  eyes  narrow  and  roll  away  from  the  morbid  fixation  upon  his  withering  face,   mottled  purples  and  blues  that  remind  her  of  night  of  the  living  dead.   the  girl  is  petulant  and  smug  all  in  the  same  expression,   though  she  does  not  smile  nor  frown.   simon  still  commands  her  terror  at  inopportune  times,   this  is  true:   but  alice  is  tired  of  flinching  whenever  he  grabs  ahold  of  her  arms  and  shakes  her  like  a  ragdoll,   much  like  the  present  moment.  

he’ll  have  to  step  up  his  game  to  get  her  good  and  afraid  like  the  earlier  days.

it  doesn’t  help  his  case  in  point  that  his  words  seem  like  more  of  a  complaint  than  an  interrogation.   he  may  as  well  have  clapped  his  hands  over  her  ears  for  how  much  she  cared  to  understand  whatever  he  was  getting  at.   so  now  he  wanted  her  cooperation?   please.   refusing  to  listen  to  him  any  further,   she  twists  and  turns  violently,   yanking  her  arms  free  and  pushing  him  away.

alice  parts  with  a  bitter  scoff.     ❝   don’t  pretend  you  care  who  i  am.   ❞

[equiiibrium]

Some  may  forget  that  Alice  Marion  is  a  child.  It  may  slip  their  mind.  They  may  even  attempt  to  build  a  case  in  their  opinion’s  favor,  using  her  vocabulary,  her  ability  to  deduce,  her  capacity  for  cunning...but  Simon  sees  through  the  act.  Her  behavior,  adopted  like  a  cast  away  orphan  in  order  to  survive.  In  a  sense,  they  are  similar.  However,  he  is  an  adult  and  she’s  a  juvenile  throwing  a  tantrum  in  public.  He  can’t  have  that.  The  very  same  fictional  group  that  may  argue  for  her  maturity  may  think  she  should  know  better.  

She  doesn’t.  And  so  the  façade  slips.  

Peacock  pulls  her  away  from  the  isle  full  of  people  and  towards  the  produce.  Shoppers  don’t  seem  to  notice.  Either  this,  or  they  don’t  care.  The  only  thing  to  gawk  at  are  his  bandages.  That’s  what  people  notice.  How  he  appears.  At  her  retort,  he  wonders  briefly  if  the  teenager  had  ever  had  a  job.  “Making  a  scene  isn’t  doing  anything  but  putting  you  in  danger.”  Never  mind  the  fact  that  Murkoff  is  nearly  everywhere  at  anytime.  He  neglects  to  mention  this  simply  because  she  never  seems  to  listen.  Perhaps  she  doesn’t  understand  the  severity.  In  fact,  he  knows  she  doesn’t.  “You’ve  tested  my  patience  enough,  haven’t  you?  Maybe  I  should  just  let  you  go  and  have  your  meltdown.  Embarrass  yourself  in  front  of  all  of  these  people.”  Simon  doesn’t  move  to  stop  her  as  she  breaks  away  from  his  grasp.  “I  do  care  who  you  are,  Alice.”  

Simon  moves  to  wave  a  bandaged  hand  at  the  crowd  of  single  parents  and  children  amongst  the  supermarket.  “They  don’t.”  A  moment  later,  he  adds,  “In  fact,  they’ve  been  actively  ignoring  you  since  we  walked  in  now  GO  and  fetch  the  eggs  like  I  asked  you  to.”  

[your-lovers-and-drifters]

The Face of Another, 1966

[equiiibrium]

Continued from HERE. 

@papalrot​

​​

The  kicks  of  his  bunkmate  are  interpreted  sleepily,  as  quite  a  nice  massage...a  violent  massage...OUCH  THAT  FUCKING  HURT!  Ifrit  retracts  his  kicked  leg  quickly,  retreating  under  the  sheets  before  peering  over  the  side  of  his  bunk,  now  upside  down.  “What  was  that  for~?”  

At  the  accusation,  the  fire  ghoul  squints  into  the  darkness,  searching  for  any  sign  of  movement  or  COMPLAINT.  Silence  save  for  road  noise.  “Are  you  a  compulsive  liar,  or  do  you  just  lie  to  me?”  The  ghoul  asks,  tilting  his  head  to  the  side.  If  the  question  weren’t  so  genuine,  it  might  be  insulting.  That  thought  that  it  could  be  never  crosses  his  mind.  

                     The  Cardinal  man  nearly  always  finds  something  to  bitch  about.  It’s  his  nature!  

[equiiibrium]

@incantatia​  said:  "I was making sure you weren't dead, since you never called." For Nihil

                She  always  comes  like  a  disaster.  Unexpected,  and  on  her  own  time...  but  it’s  HE  that  looks  like  a  tornado  went  through.  Drenched  in  sweat,  knees  bruised,  vocal  chords  fried.  Nihil  wipes  away  his  mop-like  locks,  pushing  them  away  from  his  face  to  see  her  clearly,  as  if  the  screams  of  desperation  for  an  encore  that  ISN’T  GOING  TO  HAPPLEN  NOW  are  affecting  his  vison.  He  may  be  the  only  man  to  welcome  a  hurricane.  In  fact,  he’s  elated  to  see  her.  

His  exclamations  and  greetings  are  wiped  off  of  his  face  like  a  slap  as  she  speaks.  “Dead?  No,  I~”  He  had  forgotten  to  call.  “Fuck..”  It  comes  out  as  a  hiss,  inaudible  over  crowd  noise  as  he  realizes  his  mistake.  Her  expression  says  it  all.  Maybe  that  encore  isn’t  such  a  bad  idea  after  all...

                                                                    “I  completely  spaced.  I’ve  been  really  slammed  with  all  of  this  lately,  you  know  and~  Vitto  is  a  terror.”  The  last  couldn’t  be  further  from  the  truth.  His  son  is  eerily  well  behaved,  prepared  to  take  over  the  church  at  the  ripe  age  of  four.  

Nihil,  suddenly  conveniently  distracted  points  a  ring  covered  thumb  back  at  the  stage.  “They  want  another  song...but  you  and  I  can  leave.  I’m  fine  with  that,  fuck  those  people.”  The  crowd  was  less  than  fucking  spectacular.  Not  enough  energy.  

[equiiibrium]

Added Ifrit Ghoul to my Ghost muse list! 

Ifrit is a fire ghoul that played in the Meliora era (2016-2017). He’s insane.