TASTE THE FORBIDDEN FRUIT.

PORTIA VITELLO (née CARRINGTON)Barmaid | 24 | Persephone"A garden to walk in and immensity to dream in—what more could she ask? A few flowers at her feet and above her the stars."

[portia-vitello]

sommersofkindness:

Pierce wondered how much the former queen knew about his help in the revolution. He’d expected a cold greeting or more accusations, but she seemed a bit… embarrassed? He imagined it wasn’t easy to lose an important position, as humble as Portia had always been. “I was thinking more in terms of how you are feeling. I’m sorry you had to go through the free folk uprising.” Sorry that it was necessary for them to win. “I don’t have any real ties to House Vitello anymore, but I care about your safety.”

"Oh,”  she paused to stop wiping at the table in front of her –––– dirtied rags gripped in the palm of her hand.     “I’m fine.  Best I can feel really with everything that’s happening.  People have been coming in complaining about being barricaded in here like caged animals.”   Portia sighed,  resting a hand against her waist to offer her spine some support.    “But I wouldn’t worry about my safety.  Everyone is more preoccupied with getting out of the capitol than trying to off a barmaid.  Enough about me;  are you well?”

[portia-vitello]

matwood:

θεόμορος (theomoros) destined by the gods, imparted by them | for inspiration, listen here 

Maddox enters the pub Portia is currently working at, and with his approach, a wave of memories wash over the girl — memories not of her, but of a goddess. Something is not right, and sensing this something on the air, Maddox attempts to help. Whether he will provide clarity or murkiness is unclear.

@portia-vitello

He stared into space as his fingers drummed on the wooden table, in mechanic signs of impatience. Maddox was starving, but he did not want to bother the busy waitress, who also happened to be the Queen of Westedell - and of the Underworld -. After a couple of seconds, he leaned back on his chair and stroked his beard, and between thoughts about the Atlantis’ gunpowder storage, he wondered if Rafaela had already met the young woman. 

When his stomach softly growled, he gave up and decided to approach her, and walked towards the bar. The quartermaster caught her sight, bowed his head and attempted to greet, but there was something in her expression that made him forget what he was about to say. It was a familiar look, and he thought he knew what might happen next. 

“M’lady? I think you need some fresh air.”

It had all happened so suddenly. One moment she was perfectly fine, drying a wooden mug with a cloth and the next, she was absolutely petrified. The edges of her vision were greying, heartbeat racing, and suddenly Portia wasn’t just staring at the bar in front of her anymore. She wasn’t even staring at the man across from her ––––––––– not really. It was more like she was looking through him, but more than anything else, it felt like her head was going to explode.

She reached blindly for the edge of the table in front of her because the girl was almost certain this was what it must feel before people fainted. Except, there was no reason for it to happen to her. She wasn’t ill. Portia gripped at the wooden frame until her knuckles turned white and her knees buckled beneath her weight. Suddenly, she was kneeling on the floor. The mug had clattered onto the bar moments before.

Such darkness. Such fear.

[portia-vitello]

holdenvitello:

“No, no, thank you.” It was rare he saw her these days — that woman of hope and warmth. How he wanted to give her a crown so that the world might see her as he did; how he had only dragged her down, branding her with the threat of danger. ( He did not deserve to see her these days, if truth be told, but that did not stop him. It would never stop him. ) He folded his hand atop the counter, and his gaze followed the movement. “I came to see you.” 

”Oh, is something the matter my –––”   she paused to correct herself. Old habits died hard. They were normal people now without any titles hanging over their heads.    “––– love? If you’ll give me just a moment, I’ll ask the owner if I can leave early.”   Portia hadn’t seen Holden in awhile... or it seemed that way because he’s been keeping to himself more and more. The fact he came to her was a step forward; it overjoyed her to see him trying.

[portia-vitello]

sommersofkindness:

Pierce had heard about Portia’s new job days before, but it took him some time to gather up the courage to face her again. Of all the people he knew, she was the most innocent, she didn’t deserve the way her life was turned upside down after the revolution. He watched her work on the other side of the counter and almost gave up on talking to her on the last minute, but she had already seen him.

“Hello, Portia.” He tried for a familiar greeting, as he’d considered them to be friends before her marriage to Holden. “An ale, yes, and I wanted to hear about you. We haven’t talked in so long.”

            She hadn’t seen the knight since before the rebellion and it was nice to see a familiar face for once.  “Hello,” the woman responded. It was more than a little bit awkward –– with everything that’s happened. So much had changed in the short span of a year. Portia went to fetch a glass for Pierce’s ale and set on the counter in front of him. She wasn’t quite sure how she should respond to his request for an update on her life. Hear what about her exactly? The brunet shrugged, reaching for a rag and cleaning the table for the sake of having something to do. “It has been awhile, hasn’t it? And there’s not much to hear, I’m afraid. You’re looking at my daily routine. Some days, we’ll get a rowdy customer, but usually the bar is very tepid in terms of interesting activity.”

[ladystigmata-deactivated2017032]

I asked him for it. For the blood, for the rust, for the sin. I didn’t want the pearls other girls talked about, or the fine marble of palaces, or even the roses in the mouth of servants. I wanted pomegranates— I wanted darkness, I wanted him. So I grabbed my king and ran away to a land of death, where I reigned and people whispered that I’d been dragged. I’ll tell you I’ve changed. I’ll tell you, the red on my lips isn’t wine. I hope you’ve heard of horns, but that isn’t half of it. Out of an entire kingdom he kneels only to me, calls me Queen, calls me Mercy. Mama, Mama, I hope you get this. Know the bed is warm and our hearts are cold, know never have I been better than when I am here. Do not send flowers, we’ll throw them in the river. ‘Flowers are for the dead’, 'least that’s what the mortals say. I’ll come back when he bores me, but Mama, not today.

Daniella Michalleni, “Persephone Speaks” (via ladystigmata)

[portia-vitello]

neilsonrivers:

      Neilson glanced at the girl, a wee little thing that didn’t seem exactly comfortable to be standing there. Neilson couldn’t help a frown, realizing the last time he’d seen this face, the crown was being torn from her head. “Aye,” he said with a nod, and two coins scraped across the scratched wood as he pushed them her way. “An ale would do just fine.” Straightening, he braced his hands against the counter. ( would she throw the coins back in his face? ) “Maybe a moment or two of your time, if you’ll offer it.” 

               Portia smiled softly, nodding and picking up the coins that were passed over to her and slipping them into her apron pocket.   “One ale...” she repeated, glancing at the man that effectively changed everything about her life.  The girl turned to grab a clean wooden cup off the back counter and tugged the cork out of the barrel of alcohol to fill it to the brim.   She turned again, placing the cup onto the counter in front of the older man and sliding it over to him.   “Your ale, sir.  And as for my time, you may have it so long as there is drink in that cup there. You are a paying customer after all.”

[portia-vitello]

"One moment, love... I’ll be right with you in a moment!”  she called over her shoulder.   Portia had barely managed to get herself a job at the local tavern and that was only because the owner had been fond of her prior to her short time on the throne.   After the rebellion, Holden had gone into a depression –––– forcing her to take on the role of providing for their family.  Two children to feed.  Her shoulders were heavy with the weight of responsibility, but at least she was good at serving.   It was like the old days when she used to be a handmaiden for Lady Alycia.   And now she was a barmaid.  When Portia finally turned to face the customer, she paused ––– surprised to see the other.

“Oh... hello.  What will you be having? An ale?”

[ben-brnes]

I know that when I’m being selfish and greedy, I’m unhappy and constantly wanting more. But when I lay down my selfishness and try to live life loving and giving without expectations, I find so much joy.

[portia-vitello]

holdenvitello:

When was the last time Holden had prayed — had felt his heart stretch wide, yearning for a fate he could not give himself? ( He kissed Portia’s knuckles and offered a dozen prayers against her skin that the life that flowed so easily in her veins would not diminish. ) This was not sadness that caused his lips to move in such hushed whispers; this was something older than sadness and darker than fear. One truth crept through all his words: you failed, you failed, you failed. He did not have the strength to greet the one approaching, but merely waited. That is what you’re best at. 

Despite there situation, there were only three things that Portia was concerned about. One, Lady Alycia’s children. Two, the hundreds of people shoved into the cells. Three, the husband at her side who was receding deeper and deeper into his thoughts right before her eyes. Portia squeezed his hand and wondered what she could say to make the corners of his lip twitch upwards — to make pull him from feeling like he was unworthy at least for a few moments. There was nothing more she could say except his name. “My darling, please.” She reached out to brush thin fingers across his cheeks. Please look at me.

[tomhiddletson]

Greek Mythology:    Hades & Persephone

So I grabbed my king and ran away to a land of death, where I reigned and people whispered that I’d been dragged. I’ll tell you I’ve changed. I’ll tell you, the red on my lips isn’t wine. I hope you’ve heard of horns, but that isn’t half of it. Out of an entire kingdom he kneels only to me, calls me Queen, calls me Mercy.                                                                                                    -Daniella Michalleni, “Persephone Speaks”

[portia-vitello]

galenvance:

“Come now. Celeste won’t hurt you—will you, darling?” Galen asked, rubbing at the direwolf’s neck and cooing at her as though she was a puppy. It was easy to forget what she was capable of sometimes, the way she was around him and Astrid. He turned his smile back to Portia, still rubbing at Celeste’s snowy fur. “She likes people after she gets to know them, and I can’t imagine there’s any man or beast in this world who wouldn’t love you. She’s quite well-behaved, I promise; just wary.”

The brunette fidgeted at the door for a moment before slowly approaching the beast. Portia kept an appropriate amount of distance before settling down in one of the chairs opposite Galen’s desk. “Nonsense. I’m not very good with animals. I love them, but I never really learned how to interact with them — especially dogs? The ones from Highmeadow always chased after me and all I could do was run away or get tackled to the ground.” She clasped her hands together and eyed the direwolf. “The same goes for men — in that I’m not very good with them. Perhaps I’m not to their liking... to beast or man.”

[dailycarpenter]

arden_cho: 📷@robertjohnkley 💄@beautybysarah Spring story - see the rest on Facebook (3 of 6)

[portia-vitello]

galenvance:

“No, no, please—I’ve barely seen you in weeks, Celeste can behave.” He stroked the direwolf’s fur until she calmed all the way, giving Portia an encouraging smile. “Please, Your Majesty. You can come closer.”

"No, no it’s fine! I’m sure I can manage from here. It’s not that I don’t trust you or... or Celeste, you said her name was?” she paused to look from the direwolf to Galen frantically. “I’ve never been around any animals that were bigger than I am. Except for horses and even they make me anxious. I-I don’t think she likes me very much,” the brunette finished, with her hands cradled to her chest. Portia looked almost ready to bolt out the door, but she took a quarter-step of an inch closer at the man’s beckoning.

[ardenchosource]

Arden Cho photographed by Leonardo Corredor

[portia-vitello]

galenvance:

Galen looked up when he sensed someone approaching, setting down the records he’d been reviewing. Celeste was a warm weight laying against his feet and legs, drowsing in the afternoon light filtering in through the windows; he pressed a hand to her fur when she started, shushing the growl building in her throat. “It’s alright, pretty girl, there’s no threat,” he soothed, turning his eyes to the other. “Sorry about that; I’m watching her for the princess. She’s not too fond of strangers.”

( about the direwolves: x )

Portia had initially planned to visit Galen to ask if there was anything she could do to lighten his workload, but when she spotted the direwolf growling at his feet, she jumped and took three steps back. She tried to smile to hide her anxiety, but failed miserably. “O-Oh... That’s quite alright. I’ll just... talk to you from here... across the room.”

[portia-vitello]

deathresisting:

“That’s a shame neither of us can, I’d love to see you dance.”

"I can’t dance if there’s no music, doll. It’s really a shame that you can’t play. I was looking for someone to teach me.”

[portia-vitello]

ofthefearlessflight:

“I’m… that’s not the point.”

Finding the officer’s reaction to be amusing, Portia decided to press on. "Oh? Then what is? Let’s not keep talking about boring things like work. It sounded like you were going to tell me that you weren’t much of a dancer. Am I wrong?”