☆ star cursed

an independent man in the moon roleplay blog.

[moonlit-king-blog]

{ i’ve been having such a hard time writing lately (for lunar and otherwise). i dunno what do... i sort of wanna reread the books, because nightlight seems like an easier muse to tackle. i feel like i’m constantly hitting a brick wall with lunar, which is no doubt why replies are creeping out so slowly. a lot of the time i just stare at my screen. i have the worst writer’s block. 

sorry to be dismal here, but i’m not sure what to do. :/ the muse has certainly been lacking. tho i do love my fussy prince. ;3; *flops* }

[motherovernature]

She could sense that he had labled them with an ownership of each other.  That she was the Nightmare King’s daughter, and Pitch Black was her father. She had known this for the many years she had known Lunar and that secret was known through that old locket. That locket had caused her a great deal of distress when its revelation made her memory known to him.

Seraphina once saw nothing of her father in the Nightmare King, except for similar features that revealed what had happened to Kozmotis. It had caused her a great sadness and anger. It was a burden she felt she should not bear, and she even wondered if that spectre saw her as daughter, or if her memory even mattered.

“You speak as if you believe we have some kind of established relationship or that his existence holds any significance to me. Both are wrong. And I admit… I am not inclined to offer up what I may or may not know. Surprisingly I let him be, I do not stick my nose where it needs not be.” She did not flinch under his glittering stare nor did she feel intimidated by his ‘imposing’ posture. 

“I doubt there is anything you can offer me to consider being of any assistance.” 

[moonlit-king-blog]

★ ┈┈┈ “Really now? If you felt nothing for Pitch, why bother with the mystery?” He muses quietly.

He draws nearer to the island where she sits. He seems more casual as he drops his arms upon the wood of the tabletop, but when he draws out a hand he taps it twice. The sound is brittle and hollow as it cuts through the tense air in a grating way. He looks to her eyes coolly, the barest traces of a wicked smile coming into play.

“I am the Tsar of the Moon, you know well I can offer you most anything you desire. I have whimsical powers certainly, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t potent.” He quirks an eyebrow at her, his blue eyes gleaming in amusement. “However, I hardly know what you could want.”

He shrugs then, considering her and the neutral expression she gives. 

“I can find him regardless if you help me or not, you know,” he tells her with a sniff. “My Moonbeams will comb every nook of this planet if they must, and Pitch will wear them down with his insufferable little Fearlings, and I’ll have to expend some energy for a few weeks endlessly cycling through through those Moonbeams to replenish them, but--”

And he stops so abruptly that the room seems to drop in temperature at the sudden halt, as if the air, too, were shocked by end of his rambling. The quiet seems as loud as static. 

“Don’t think I won’t do it.”

His smile returns, as if it had never left at all and the moment before was already over and forgotten. He leans toward her with a chuckle. 

“You’d only be doing me a favor, and in return I can do a favor for you,” he says gently. “I’m very curious as to what such a favor would entail, of course. What could you want?” 

[moonlit-king-blog]

{ hello all! i’m off today (thank goodness!) so i promise to devote some time here to tumblr. i specifically want to catch up on my threads, so look out for that. i also wanna remake my icons, and perhaps a new header, though i’m uncertain what i should do for either~ 

i dunno, i feel the need to spruce things up a bit. xD hoping you’re all doing well too. :D }

[wiingedmemories-deactivated2016]

“Thank you!” His flattery left a blush on her cheeks. He just complimented her feathers! The poor girl was completely awestruck. At least, until his last sentence which left her puzzled.

Tooth suddenly stopped in the air with a look of surprise, her eyes wider, staring at him. This was the first she’d heard of this. “St-..Staying for the week?” 

Him visiting and actually being there in person was one thing, but him being there for a week? This was the very man who chose her to be a Guardian and one of the few people she strived to impress for the past.. What was it again? A few hundred years? She wasn’t sure if her uneasiness would allow her to keep her cool for that long.

“Uhm, n-no! Well, at least I didn’t hear about it. But you’re still welcome to stay!”

[moonlit-king-blog]

★ ┈┈┈ He turns with a flourish and chuckles at her bewildered expression, as if her unease were some slight, insignificant happenstance. He overlooks her unsettled gem-stone eyes too easily--his social graces are totally lacking apparently.

He saunters up to her and claps a large hand over her feathered shoulder. Even with her fluttering he manages to easily tower over her. With his glittering laughter and overwhelming confidence it’s almost hard to tell he’s never had a proper conversation with her before. He acts as if they are old, close friends. 

“Oh bother, I suppose the Moonbeams forgot to send that particular message. You know how they love to wander off--poor things no doubt forgot entirely!” 

Again he laughs as he lifts the hand on her shoulder, then he claps his palms together loudly.

“No need to fret over that now,” he exclaims happily. “Now, where will I be sleeping? I need to freshen up for dinner!”

[moonlit-king-blog]

//What more I'd like to see of Prince Lunar… First, let me start off by saying that I've never had the privilege of RPing with a MiM/young Tsar, and so far I LOVE this interpretation of him. Seeing how he adapts to modern society and social interactions is hilarious! How much of that is affected by his canon self and what is exclusively from the mun's portrayal? That's what I'm looking forward to seeing from the moonlit king!//

☾what more would you like to see from my muse?

{ ooooo! well thank you!! i’m glad you like lunar. sometimes i wonder if i make him into too much of a prissy prince, but i often find myself amused by his dramatic outbursts. it’s pretty fun rping someone so silly~! (so i’m really glad you don’t find him too obnoxious lol)

it’s hard to say how much is strictly canon and what is my sole interpretation. that’s because i sort of just thought to myself “ok, if i was chased by a madman through space and he slaughtered everything i cared for, but i still had this weirdly isolated, yet idyllic, childhood... how would i turn out?” and this is what i came up with. xD i’m sure as i roleplay him more it’ll become clear to me how much is canon/not-canon with lunar... if that makes any sense at all! xD

BUT ANYWAY, thank you so much for your kind words! i’m really thrilled that you enjoy rping with my fussy lunar. :D }

[moonlit-king-blog]

{ hi guuuys! so sorry i haven’t been on properly for a few days. frankly, i’ve been overwhelmed in real life. i’m hoping i can squeeze in some time here and motivate myself to get out replies soon. i only have thirty minutes now before i have to scurry off, but (if i’m not tired from what is no doubt going to be a chaotic day at work) later i might can get out a few things here.

things have been crazy lately is all. so sorry everyone. ;-; }

[motherovernature]

Seraphina takes him far more seriously than she probably should. She is quite sensitive to his insults, and his perspective on reality. They don’t line up. Perhaps if they would of been more akin to each other when she was a child, maybe even as a Pilot. But after all these years?

Well it was a wonder that she could get along with anyone really. She is perplexed by the nudge he gives her, frowning and eyes squinting as she does her best to control an even deeper frown. 

She is bitter, she accepts this. Although with him she feels they are more like siblings, and she is the elder annoyed that the younger one took and messed up her painting. Both visions were flawed, but she still things her design would of been best. 

“You have a habit though of visiting me when you come down here Lunar. And while I govern all of Earth’s natural ecosystem, I do enjoy expressing my artistic side through my necessary weather patterns.”

She furrowed her brows and cast her silver gaze to him. “So either you like the bad weather… or you’re seeking out my company. There is a third observation though… you are directionaly impaired and do not know bad weather from sunny days.”

[moonlit-king-blog]

★ ┈┈┈ He casts her a long look. The problem is that they’re too alike, he thinks. They want the best for this insignificant planet--they want it to grow into something wonderful, though they govern such different aspects of it that they appear to come at odds over the children. Not unlike the siblings Seraphina pictures, they like to squabble over their toys.

“It could be a bit of all three,” he says with a chuckle. “Or maybe it’s always just bad weather around you for some inexplicable reason. Why do the rain clouds follow you like this, Seraphina?” 

He points up to the cluttered gray above them. He has a few suspicions on why this gloom gnaws at her heels. 

Lunar does enjoy Sera’s company, even if they are often picking at each other and grating on the other’s nerves. Despite her cold outlook, and her often desolate imagination, Lunar feels she understands him in a way few can. She, too, hailed from a broken age and was cast off into space to make something of herself under circumstances that frankly weren’t fair. They were orphans before they knew what proper parents were supposed to be like, and in the ashes of their crumpled world they built an even better one. After all that, it’s no wonder he built a natural kinship with her. 

He crosses his ankles and leans back on the bench.

Lunar doesn’t know how to tell her any of this, though. He doesn’t know how to reach out to anyone very well--his visits are few and far between and he rarely broaches such personal topics like this. He frantically wonders how he can steer the conversation back to Earth and weather and the children safely. He’s at a loss. 

Instead he says lightly, “I’m shocked you let me show up like this. I always expect to find the door barred and a pack of feral wolves at your doorstep, yet it’s always open and you’re always there, as if you were waiting all day for me to arrive.” He smiles at her and shrugs. “I guess you can be pleasant to talk to, most days at least...”

[lastlightontherails-archived]

It seemed the longer he was around the royal, the more often Jamie caught himself staring. Less so in awe compared to when they initially met - now, he was merely dumbfounded. Of all places, one of the last he’d expect for a - what was this anyway? Some kind of ‘business’ meeting? An interview? Interrogation? - In any case, he never expected to be eating ice cream with the man he considered Messiah figure in an all-too familiar setting.

Whether the overall arrangement or his passion for peanut butter is stranger - he can’t decide.

Or maybe Lunar put more thought into it than Jamie realized. Because, hey, he wasn’t going to ask too many questions - verbally, anyway - when there was ice cream to be had. He was only on his second bowl, after all. Speaking of which…

“Oh!” He responds, snapping out of it, “Uh, rocky road. It’s my favorite! I mean, it’s got everything - vanilla, chocolate, marshmallows, almonds, and I got ‘em to add caramel! Mh. Is…is ice cream popular on the moon? Or is it a delicacy from Earth?“

[moonlit-king-blog]

★ ┈┈┈ Jamie is such delightful company. He’s always wanted to meet him--it was Jamie Bennett that saved his Guardians after all! It seemed only proper that they speak... and Lunar had become intensely hungry for some ice cream, so two birds with one stone and all that. 

He nods at Jamie and eyes his rocky road ice cream enviously. Maybe he should have gotten it too... now his chocolate and peanut butter seems bland in comparison! He sighs dejectedly at the treat. He’ll probably get that next... with a scoop of birthday cake on the side and hot fudge drizzled over it all... and whipped cream too. 

He’s snapped from his visions of sweets the moment Jamie asks about ice cream on the moon.

“Oh no, ice cream is from Earth! We have a frozen treat of our own from the moon--something a bit like your sherbet--but ice cream is from your planet. We can’t perfect it on the Moon Clipper, though I try to do so tirelessly. I think the secret is cows. See, we don’t have a cow on the moon, though some say one jumped over it once. I’ve never seen it... I looked you know.” 

He does seem sad he never found that damn cow.

[oh-my-destiel]

[defensivesuggestion]

Stay behind me, I’ll protect you, I promise.

[frostbittensprite]

{❄} - – It wasn’t exactly something the guardian could anticipate.

The evening had been peaceful- yes, until the West Wind played with his hair fondly, countenancing the arrival to slip in his ears before His voice followed. Never before had he heard it and yet the gentle greeting made his entire body shake with a fury that had been unprovoked for so long. He’d accepted this fate, forcefully swallowing it and making something of himself out of it so W H Y did He come?

However softly the breeze carried the Tsar’s voice to Jack, the only answer at first is a harsh, biting gust in reply. The boy would much rather stay hidden within the thick confines of trees that knew him better. Even as their leaves betrayed him by rejuvenating themselves in tints of green over the passing months- they had no bad blood. The Man in the Moon however—

Jack took his time in slow strides, surveying the unwelcome presence before coming to a halt beside the bench but made no indication that he’d sit in the other’s company. While his jaw was tense, his tone kept an aloofness well practiced as it met the air, tongue twisting to manipulate the temperature in proximity. Dropping it to a more comfortable level for himself while his hands gripped, white knuckled, around his staff Jack leaned against his shoulder. “There’s a difference between shy and avoiding.“

“Guess I missed your call for this visit.” He added, gritting his teeth quietly behind the thin line of his mouth. His gaze lifted to the night sky instead of making proper eye contact as he went on, holding back from scoffing at how the entity was dressed in comparison to his own rags. “What can I do you for, Your Highness?”

[moonlit-king-blog]

★ ┈┈┈ He watches as Jack strolls coldly into the clearing--not only does the temperature drop to a chill in his presence, but his bones are stiff with loathing. Lunar can see this in his glinting eyes, but Jack has the sense to restrain himself (which scarcely surprises the Tsar, as he’s only seen the boy be a reckless storm in most cases). 

Seeing Jack Frost so closely makes his heart go on a rampage as it rattles in his chest and makes his breaths shallow. Lunar knows Jack so well, but seeing him this near makes the longing within him nearly overwhelming. Jack doesn’t know how much Lunar actually cares for him--sees him as his little snowflake son that dances along sparkling gales. Because these thoughts and the words he’s always wanted to say have been locked up on the moon and never allowed to escape. 

There’s a reason Jack Frost suffered in the same way Lunar did. 

Jack’s words sting him and he’s shocked that they don’t cut his glittering skin apart. Despite how much Jack’s vehemence hurts, the Tsar’s face remains aloof and neutral--his go-to demeanor when he’s actually incredibly emotional.

“I only want to speak with you, I feel there’s a lot of misunderstanding between us. I feel now you are ready to know why...”

Lunar doesn’t look away from Jack. He makes sure his gaze remains steady on the pale boy’s face. 

[moonlit-king-blog]

What is Lunar's weakness, something that might be used to make him give in to temptation? Are there any loved ones for which he would sacrifice himself?

{ *squints at anon* Well…

He would do anything in his power to keep the children of Earth safe. He’s devoted his entire existence to their well-being–ever since he was a mere infant and discovered that children existed on the tiny blue and green planet below him, he’s worked tirelessly to give them good dreams and foster the magic around them. He’s watched Earth for thousands of years at this point–he’s seen so many children grow up, watched their greatest triumphs and even their most dire moments–that he’s grown insanely attached to the planet as a whole. He’s the Man in the Moon and he’s made it his personal mission to keep all children safe (the oath he makes all his Guardians take says it all).

The irony in this is that he’s confined to his ship in space, so it makes for an interesting disconnect between the children, his Guardians, and himself. He’s also a bit disillusioned because of this, as he hardly knows what life really is like below him. He’s very much like a spectator on the other side of a screen: he’s only experiencing so much of life on Earth, because he’s not there living on the planet himself. But one could argue that his optimistic view and pure innocence is what makes him good at his job, as the reason he can foster utter goodness is because he’s only lived a perfect, idyllic life (even if it was lived in total isolation). 

Basically, he would sacrifice himself for the children if he had absolutely no other choice (and believe me he would exhaust any other options he came across). He’s pretty much jutted himself into the role of a “god”, due to the way he manipulates the people of Earth but isn’t really present there.

I think I could ramble on and on if he would actually sacrifice himself for his Guardians or not. At this point, I’m inclined to say he would not. He knows his powers are too valuable at this point, so he’d probably let them perish in his stead. He’d be pretty methodical there, as he views himself as the Guardians’ “general” and little more than that. This could change as I roleplay more with others, but *chuckles nervously* I dunno… 

He’d no doubt sacrifice himself for his mother and father though. 

Oh, ah, I got a bit carried away there pfft… }

[vulpinemom-deactivated20170429]

What more would you like to see from my muse?

Genuine question: Flaws, angst, fears, any my situations in particular you wonder about the reaction to that hasn’t been done yet. Let me know how I can grow my muse.

[moonlit-king-blog]

"Flower crown!" //What's funny is that I reblogged this same meme earlier today! Goes to show you that our muses would probably spend their time making flower crowns for each other.//

★ ┈┈┈ Two children from Burgess have given him a flower crown. He takes it from their hands, gazes at it fondly. It isn’t as magnificent as the other crowns he’s been given, as the others all held a sort of magic in the flowers’ stems, but this one is all the same precious to him. The flowers are the sort you could find in any suburban garden, and a few he thinks might actually be weeds (though they are colorful enough and add a sort of rustic edge to the crown).

He knows Cupcake and Jamie well, because he’s given them good dreams since they were too little to walk or speak. He’s become more fascinated with them ever since they became Jack Frost’s first believers. He knows they have gilded hearts and steady souls, so he rests the crown on his head with a smile.

“Ah, a crown fit for a king!” He gushes, pressing a hand gently against the flowers as he strikes a grand pose. He looks both silly and noble, an odd mix for sure. “I shall never take it off~!”

[moonlit-king-blog]

The small child promptly places a "flower crown", made of some of the less significant flowers found on his planet, on top of the king's noble head.

★ ┈┈┈ Tsar Lunar gasps happily as a crown is settled neatly over his hair. It almost feels grand, as if this were a coronation and Lunar is about to take his place among the kings and queens of the past. But this boy has a way of making you feel special with his demure smiles and serene laughter–he is royal too, in a way Lunar scarcely understands. He is a special child, as seen by the beautifully woven crown now nestled upon the Tsar. It is composed of an array of rainbow petals, each gleaming in the sunlight. 

He quickly throws his arms around the child, squeezing tight as he laughs.

“Thank you!” He exclaims, releasing him at once and patting his head. “You are one of the kindest souls I have ever had the pleasure to meet.”

[moonlit-king-blog]

*places an extravagantly crafted flower crown upon his head full of soft white petals and leaves , almost more reminiscent of flora from the golden age and not earth itself.*

★ ┈┈┈ A delicate crown is sat upon his golden head and at once he brings long fingers to touch the petals. They feel exquisitely soft, as though they might fly off his head at the slightest breeze. But he knows they will not–he can feel the warmth of Seraphina’s powers flowing through each flower, and he knows that they must be gorgeously beautiful. He goes to a mirror and glances into it, seeing the shimmering crown nearly glowing atop his head. The flowers look ethereal, spun of crystal sugar and glittering lights. They do remind him of the splendor the Golden Age must have had. 

He beams a shining smile at her, his eyes full of delight as he goes on touching the pretty flowers. 

“Be careful Seraphina, if you keep being nice to me I might come to the conclusion that you can actually tolerate me sometimes…” He muses with a warm smile. It’s obvious he appreciates the gesture more than he’s willing to say.

[tsarina-lunanoff-blog]

{Like we were supposed to be…} Dangerous words, Tsarina Lunanoff has learned, in the hundreds of years she and her son have been  a p a r t.  Words that carried expectation and entitlement which could not be guaranteed.   She can’t bear to look him in the eye, but neither can she turn away, from this angry young man that is somehow her son.       How can she tell him his anger is misplaced, that it’s all so very complicated, and that she would deprive him of his only consolation because                                 The truth is that no single person is to blame.   There were shared faults, shared failures, by everyone involved, save himself and Nightlight, and there was simply no way to restore what had been lost… except to put it in the past and forge ahead– to herald the foundation of the Golden Age, New Beginnings!                    {Ah, but he had never known those days, her Lunar.} They thought they had hidden it so well, behind ever cheerful smiles and booming voices,                behind sweet and treats and shooting stars and clanking bots and jolly ‘Toot Toot!’s,                       behind glittering telescopes, unfurling sails, bedtime stories and Goodnight Kisses and enchanted lullabies… Oh, but her little one, wise and wide eyed, somehow he knew.        He knew his mother wept with worry and his father spent nights sleepless with fear after they closed the door to his sacred stellar nursery.        He caught the whispers and the nervous chatter of the Moonmice and Glowworms and the ache in Nightlight’s voice,                                                        “Remember me in dreams!” {And he wonders why his mother is apologizing.} The Tsarina appraises her son in turn, noticing he is terribly skinny, and how ever did he get so tall?  Though it sears her soul, she is grateful for his honesty, glad his fake smile has fallen away to reveal a mouth that tugs down at the corners in a kind of apathetic fury. “Lunar, it’s all very complicated,” she begins, giving him the kind of answer she hated hearing as a child.  He isn’t a boy, but she can’t expect him to have the same maturity as one who had been raised by suitable parents and teachers.  A lock of raven hair falls into her face, and she brushes it back, starting again. “Even Pitch had a heart once.”                                              {I believe he still does!} ”We must not think badly of him.” The words leave her lips and she cannot help the accusation that rings in her mind as loudly as a bell in a tower,                                       {TRAITOR, TRAITOR, TRAITOR,                           choosing a villain over your son, how DARE you!} Refusing to shed any more tears, she straightens, vowing within herself to pursue New Beginnings for her son’s sake!  It’s all they have left.                                                     If only she can get him to see it that way.

[moonlit-king-blog]

★ ┈┈┈ Lunar has always smiled for as long as he can remember. Even when it became apparent that he would forever be alone, he managed to find the goodness in it. He was productive in the quiet the stars offered him. But despite the smile he shined upon Earth and anyone who looked to him then and now, Lunar holds on tightly to a very distinct anger. While he smiles and laughs and chortles merrily on the slightest whim, he has always held in his heart something awful and deep--a feeling that constantly simmers within him. 

It’s a quiet, gentle fury that has urged him onward. It’s the hate he holds for Pitch Black.

Even Pitch had a heart once.

Pitch never had a heart, he thinks immediately with such force he’s surprised he isn’t screaming it. In fact, his composure is eerily calm. His face is absolutely serene as he blinks slowly at her, a chilly neutrality falling neatly over him. He stares at her as if she is still a million miles away--that despite her standing mere inches from him, he still can’t reach her. She may as well be spun of starlight--the ache he feels now at her traitorous words is not unlike the one he felt when he lost her all those years ago. 

We must not think badly of him.

He finally closes his eyes because he can’t bear the sight of her saying this. It pains him physically to hear her speak kindly of a murderous madman--his stomach tightens and knots, his heart flutters. He wonders at once why he came here--Pitch obviously has been busy sinking his teeth into whatever innocent flesh scampered into view. To think his mother spoke with Pitch--because he can’t fathom how else she’s been so turned around--before seeing him enrages him further. Instead of letting his fury free he buries it down where no one can see it: behind a thin smile and a soft sigh. 

“I’m sorry mother you have been fooled by Pitch, but you forget what he has done. Pitch Black never had a heart--that was stolen from him on the prison planet. That heart belonged to a man named Kozmotis. Pitch is merely a creature composed of Fearlings and rot--nothing else. Before you pity him, remember that he extinguished planets and stars just to give me a bad dream. Can you dare say that to the millions he slaughtered to get to us?”

He pauses, steps away from her and shakes his head with an almost amused sparkle in his eyes. It could have been tears if he didn’t maintain his immaculate composure. 

“Can you tell that to the Moonmice and Glow-Worms and Lunar Moths that died that day battling Pitch and his crew? Can you utter such nonsense to Nightlight, who was trapped within Pitch’s black heart for centuries keeping him at bay? I doubt any of them think very kindly about Pitch Black.”

He walks back to the bench now and flops onto it, scooping up his tub of ice cream and poking his silver spoon back into its depths. 

“Pitch plays his games well, I never would have thought he’d have gotten to you.” He lobs up a scoop of green ice cream and tucks it into his mouth. With smacking lips he continues, “It makes me curious what wild tales he’s spinning now to convince you he’s such a jolly soul. Why, just a bit ago he wanted nothing for this world but fear and darkness--I do believe that’s how he put it--certainly a charming fellow, we might as well give him the Nobel Prize.”

His sarcasm is searing.