can't you see?

“When you light a candle, you also cast a shadow.” Litha Petrova, 22. Alive. {roleplay account. in no way, shape, or form affiliated with penelope mitchell.}

[losing-litha-blog]

💞

[whambamthankyoubram]

Send me a 💞  for a gif showing my muse’s feelings towards yours.

[losing-litha-blog]

➵ eleanor duh

I would hurt you or use you. | you unsettle me. | I dislike you or you annoy me. | I would like to get to know you better. | I pity you. | you confuse me. | I feel indifferent towards you. | I would be friends with you. | I would fight by your side. | I would hug you or hold your hand. | I would kiss you. | I would sleep with you. | I would lie for you. | I would protect you. | I would fall in love with you. | I would kill for you | I respect you. | you are my family. | I don’t know you.

[roleplayers-ink]

Send me ➵ and I will bold all that applies to your muse

I would hurt you or use you. | you unsettle me. | I dislike you or you annoy me. | I would like to get to know you better. | I pity you. | you confuse me. | I feel indifferent towards you. | I would be friends with you. | I would fight by your side. | I would hug you or hold your hand. | I would kiss you. | I would sleep with you. | I would lie for you. | I would protect you. | I would fall in love with you. | I would kill for you | I respect you. | you are my family. | I don’t know you.

( adapted from dw’s heart meme. )

[losing-litha-blog]

5, 15, 19, 29

5. Your character's worst habit?

When nervous, Litha is constantly fidgeting--whether it be tracing the side of her thumb with her index nail, pushing her hair out of her face, or picking at her nail polish. 

15. Something that grosses your character out?

Bad parents, excessive PDA, people who don’t respect her boundaries.

19. Something that makes your character cry without fail?

Being extremely angry, fighting with Anya, old home videos of her parents.

29. Someone does something awful in front of your character. How do they handle it?

It depends. If Litha sees someone getting hurt or attacked, she will definitely intervene. However, if Litha sees a crime that seems justified or doesn’t seem to be too detrimental (stealing, etc.), she’d rather just ignore it than cause drama.

[losing-litha-blog]

diner // open

[alaric-telemann-blog]

Alaric liked to frequent the diner when he was off from the cafe; there was something about the simplicity of a shitty cup of scalding coffee at a diner that comforted the man. When he walked in that morning, bleary-eyed from another sleepless night, the man would have been hard-pressed to notice that anyone else in the diner was suffering any similar ailments. 

Rubbing a hand across tired eyes as he sat on a barstool, he received a slight shock from the elbow to his arm. Recovering slower than he may have after his first few cups of joe, he chuckled tiredly and shrugged. “It’s okay, I can’t say I’m all that clear-headed myself.” 

[losing-litha-blog]

Whether she would admit it or not, Litha was relieved to see the man sitting next to her was friendly. While she didn’t have an issue going toe-to-toe with someone if they got in her face, it was rather exhausting--plus, it was far too early to be speaking above a casual voice. She felt herself smile in return as the man admitted to his own current state of fogginess, turning on her stool slightly to address him. “I’m starting to wonder if it’s something in the air here,” she replied, “I haven’t slept well since I made it to Bentley.”

[damixns]

eleanorxdubois:

@damixns @losing-litha

Eleanor’s nails fluttered against the granite countertop as she observed the company in her kitchen, impatience worming its way further around her spine with every passing second. Boredom was not something she could stomach for long intervals and her limited tolerance had begun running on empty about ten minutes prior. Not to mention the proximity of Litha to Damien left a distinctly bitter taste in her mouth, one that she couldn’t identify. “Are you two going to stand there all afternoon or can we get this show on the road before I age another twenty years?”

Damien moved his gaze from Litha to Eleanor, a smile playing on his lips. There was tension in the air around them – perhaps due to Eleanor’s restlessness, or even the seeming contention between the two women – but he was nothing but relaxed. He didn’t mind the slowness of the day ( but then again, he would never not wish for something to be more engaging, more thrilling or memorable ). He brought his hand and arm back towards him; his hand had been resting on Litha’s shoulder ( a gesture more possessive than he had right to be ). He chuckled at El’s statement of her impatience, then saying, “Twenty years would do nothing to you.” He stepped away from Litha, letting himself lean his back against the counter. “So, what do we do now? Make waves, ruin lives?” The way he spoke sounded as if he were joking; it would be up to the women in front of him to interpret their meaning.

[losing-litha-blog]

Litha stood rigidly against the counter of Eleanor’s kitchen, arms folded across her chest. Despite her eyes demurely shifting between the El and Damien, the only movement she made was the slight bouncing of her foot against the floor. The gravity of Damien’s arm on her shoulder made her uneasy. While she had had that strange feeling of familiarity with him, that did not weigh out the common sense screaming in her gut: strangers were not to be trusted. Her eyebrows raised inquisitively as the pair in front of her spoke about years--why the hell wouldn’t she change--Botox? Her face quickly faded back to that of someone reticent. Once the two seemed to finish speaking, Litha re-positioned herself, creating some distance between both of them. “I don’t know, but unless something is decided within the next five minutes, I’m leaving.”

[losing-litha-blog]

Uncommon character questions

1. A little-known talent of your character?

2. What trait does your character like best about themself? (Eyes, guitar skills, random bird facts, etc)

3. How many pillows does your character sleep with?

4. Is your character good at keeping secrets?

5. Your character's worst habit?

6. Does your character prefer tennis shoes/sneakers or flip flops?

7. What is your character's opinion on body modifications?

8. Your character is given a full-ride scholarship to any college they could want to go to. Where do they go and what do they major in?

9. What chore does your character hate the most?

10. Would your character prefer to live in the city, the suburbs, or the country?

11. Is your character a blanket hog?

12. Would your character play by the rules in a fight or take cheap shots?

13. Does your character have a widow 's peak?

14. Happy birthday! What kind of present would your character want?

15. Something that grosses your character out?

16. Your character is suddenly on an adventure! Where do they go and what do they do?

17. Is there a real person that looks like your character?

18. Something that makes your character laugh without fail?

19. Something that makes your character cry without fail?

20. A obscure/ridiculous fear your character has?

21. Does your character have any type of disability, whether it be mental, physical, etc?

22. Does your character get frustrated when people forget to close the door behind themselves?

23. What is your character's first memory?

24. Something you like that your character would hate?

25. Your character is going into battle/on a mission! What song is their anthem?

26. Does your character have good or bad posture?

27. Most despicable thing your character has ever done?

28. Is your character a conspiracy theorist?

29. Someone does something awful in front of your character. How do they handle it?

30. What is your character's favorite drink?

31. Does your character prefer to sleep in a warm or cool area?

32. Would your character like you if they met you?

33. A song that reminds you of your character?

34. Is your character a nail biter?

35. What is your character's favorite quote?

36. Your character's favorite fashion era? (20's, 70's, etc)

37. Does your character get excited when they get mail?

38. Random thunderstorm! How does your character react?

39. A strange talent of your character?

40. Assuming your character doesn't have them already, what superpower would they want? If they do already, would they change it, keep it, or get rid of it?

41. Does your character like/make puns?

42. What kind of shampoo does your character use?

43. Your character wakes up with a coin super glued to their forehead. How do they react?

44. Can your character sleep if there's any kind of light?

45. What kind of self-esteem does your character have?

46. A word that your character can't stand?

47. Does your character fold their clothes, hang them up, or just leave them in the basket/dryer?

48. Would society call your character a good guy or a bad guy? What would they say they are?

49. Your character's most prized possession?

50. What is your character's happy place?

[losing-litha-blog]

diner // open

[eleanorxdubois-blog]

“Nightmares? What are you, eight?” Eleanor would never win an award for being the most tactful, empathetic individual. Good thing it wasn’t on her list of goals to accomplish before her existence in this warped afterlife ended permanently. “Is this the part where I’m supposed to pretend I have motherly instincts? Okay, give me a second… They can’t hurt you, they’re just dreams. You’re going to be fine and monsters aren’t real. There. That’s all I’ve got.”

[losing-litha-blog]

“How many more questions are you going to ask? Six? Seven? You wanna get your phone out? Record it, maybe? Take notes?” When Litha was well-rested, her patience was short with the blonde; when no sleep was involved, the conversation was nearly toxic. “No, actually. I don’t recall asking for your opinion. And if you’re just so sure they can’t hurt me, detective, answer me this: what the hell is this?” She held out her hand in front of her, pointing to the raw, red ring circling her wrist. “Please, enlighten me.”

[losing-litha-blog]

diner // open

[eleanorxdubois-blog]

“Clearly,” Eleanor deadpanned in response, crystalline hues examining the rather apparent sleep deprivation which draped itself around her fellow blonde like a heavy overcoat; tiresome to the senses and quite in need of the older blonde’s special brand of intervention. “You look like hell. Why haven’t you been sleeping?” Her tone left little room to argue or formulate an excuse as to why Litha was slowly starting to transform into a walking corpse. The irony of El’s own thoughts was not lost. “Do I have to buy you a night light or haven’t you heard that a glass of wine before bed can knock you right out?”

[losing-litha-blog]

There were very few people in Bentley that could cause Litha’s mood to instantly grow foul--Eleanor happened to be one of them. The moment she spoke, Litha’s eyes rolled involuntarily. Out of all of the people in town, why the hell did it have to be her? “Nightmares, Nancy Drew,” she replied flatly, taking another sip of tea; unsurprisingly, the burn on her tongue was more pleasant for Litha than her current conversation. “Falling asleep isn’t the problem.”

[losing-litha-blog]

diner // open

[mia-cosette]

“Huh?” Mia looked at the woman next to her as she pulled her eyes away from the newspaper in her hand. “No worries, don’t let me pull you from your stupor.” This early in the morning it seemed like most people were near zombies. Mia herself was tired but she was used to spending long nights reading, often forgetting to sleep. “I hope everything is alright though.” So told the woman softly noting how ragged she looked but not wanting to point it out directly.

[losing-litha-blog]

“Trust me, you’re not pulling me out of anything important.” She replied, stirring her cup with a coffee straw. It was probably better that she was awake, honestly--instead of the redhead sitting next to her, it could’ve easily been some whackjob trying to grab her wallet. Litha gave a soft smile, pushing unruly curls out of her face. The girl seemed nice enough, but she knew better than to spill her life story to some stranger. “I’m alright, just didn’t sleep well, I guess. Or long enough.”

[losing-litha-blog]

diner // open

Litha watched as the sugar slowly dissolved into her tea, her image reflecting in the brown-black liquid. Exhaustion was written all over her face; glassy, bloodshot eyes paired with dark circles proved impossible to cover up with any sort of eye-drops or makeup. After her last episode, she could not bring herself to sleep--there was no solace in resting if her own demons were waiting their for her.

She began to nod off but was startled awake by the sound of a bell chiming, signifying someone had entered the restaurant. Snatching up her cup hastily, she took a sip of her tea, cringing as it scalded her tongue. As she shifted on her barstool, she elbowed the figure next to her, her eyes widening. “Sorry,” she mumbled, “Clearly i’m not entirely awake yet.”

[fuckyeahoriginals]

Just stay put. I’ll handle it.

[losing-litha-blog]

muse questions

1: What kind of childhood did he or she have?

2: What's their profession and how did they get there?

3: How do they deal with conflict and change?

4: What is their favourite place to be and how would they describe it?

5: Who was their first true love?

6: What is their deepest regret?

7: How would they describe their parents?

8: What is their favourite time period & why?

9: What is their favourite genre of music & why?

10: What are they most influenced by?

11: If someone were to be angry with them, what would be the reason?

12: What are their most common mannerisms?

13: What do they think about before falling asleep?

14: What are their fondest memories?

15: How would they describe their favourite person/people?

[ofhotheads-blog]

Get to know the people in my muse’s life.

Send me a symbol and I’ll tell you about…

🌟 …someone my muse trusts. 💔 …someone who broke my muse’s heart. 💕 …someone my muse loves.  😒 …someone my muse hates. 🔥…someone my muse would die for. 💀 …someone my muse would kill for. 👻 …someone my muse considers a best friend. 💘 …someone my muse has a crush on. 🔪 …someone my muse hurt in the past. 👀 …someone my muse likes, but doesn’t trust. 💩 …someone my muse dislikes, but admires. 👿 …someone my muse used to like, but doesn’t anymore. 😉 …someone my muse has had sex with. 💋 …someone my muse used to date. 😜 …someone who makes my muse laugh. 👪 …someone in my muse’s family. 👑 …someone my muse is jealous of. 👊 …someone who hates my muse. 👫 …someone who has a crush on my muse. 👌 …someone my muse has only met once, but will never forget. 🍓…someone my muse has never met, but wants to meet. 👰 …someone my muse would consider marrying.

[losing-litha-blog]

m o r t u u s // self-para

Word Count: 463

Trigger warnings: Gore, general spo0o0oo0okiness

Litha awoke to the sound of rain hammering against the windowsill, eyes wide as she scanned the room around her. Her room looked normal, untouched, yet she could still feel the sense of dread crawling up her spine.

It was happening again; she could feel it in her bones.

She grabbed at her arms, pinching the skin under her nails. “Wake up,” she hissed, “fucking wake up already”. It was too late--she could hear the sound of scratching, her eyes slowly making their way to the floor. 

At the center of her rug, there was a mark; at first glance, it looked like someone had spilled their drink during a trip for a midnight snack. As Litha watched helplessly, the small stain turned from a damp grey to a deep pitch. The floor began to bloat and decay, creating even a larger hole.

The sound of fingernails scratching against wood echoed from the void; she wanted to shut her eyes, but there was no point. She already knew what was coming out of that fucking hole. One by one, pallid hands reached up from the hollow, decomposing flesh stretched and stitched over the slender phalanges reaching into the nether--reaching for her. She sat in horror as she watched one pair of arms--longer and more spindly than the rest--dig its fingers into the hardwood, the appendages barely flinching as its nails bent and broke. It pulled itself out of the void the way an injured creature would, limbs bent in unnatural positions. After what seemed like hours, Litha stared in horror as the head of the figure became visible: a head of blonde hair, matted with dried blood, her neck bent in a similar fashion to her limbs. 

Her face was in a severe state of decay, but she recognized the two chasms that used to hold eyes the color of gunmetal. She’d seen enough pictures of her mother that her image was burned into the back of her eyelids. 

For the first time since she was startled, Litha felt able to speak. “I’m sorry!” The voice escaping her lips was unfamiliar; trembling in fear and filled with regret. The creature moved in a limping motion towards her, one foot dragging along the floor. “Go away, mom! It wasn’t me, it was you!” 

As the creature reached out to grab her wrist, the light flickered on. There was a figure in the doorway--perhaps Anya or Joseph--watching as Litha writhed in fear on her mattress. She looked for where the hole had been and was met with unblemished hardwood. The only evidence of what had happened was the marks covering her forearms from where she had pinch, and the raw, red skin where something had clutched her wrist.

[leomaier]