because I could not stop for Death-

Penned by Tomoko. PERSONALS DO NOT INTERACT. Est. October 2017 [HIATUS THROUGH september 1, 2019] [THREAD CAP: 5][THREADS: 5] Main blog to Murasaki Shikibu @pixxelhearted, Iphigenia @aulisdeer, Aphrodite @foamkissed, Ichika Hoshino @adonyas. Icon by @desiderium-eden

[duskwilt-m]

 「 ❈  lavi 」 ​:

A birthday present?

She tilted her head slightly at him. 

Uprooting?

“You’re… not going to take me skydiving or anything, right?” 

But even as she blanches at the prospect, she steels her nerves. No way was she going to show terror at something like this. Mac would definitely laugh at her if she did - 

But even skydiving… wouldn’t change her lifestyle completely. 

Unless she died, of course. 

But if he wanted to kill her, he had plenty of opportunities to do so without getting them both on a plane. The pilot would have be dealt with, too…

She stays silent, though, waiting for him to elaborate. 

「 ❈ 」 Skydiving? Mac stifled a sigh, his smile turning exasperated; his joke must not’ve landed properly, or she had fears that jumped to mind before anything rational—-either way, he waved a hand to dismiss the suggestion as he mulled over how best to carry on. He didn’t want to reveal any secrets without confirmation, after all, since that may cause more pain in the long run ( he assumed, at least, but he couldn’t call himself well-versed in the human heart ).

Rather than entertain her suggestion, he settled on a shrug, and he glanced around to ensure no passersby were in earshot. “I need a serious answer here, Lavi, because I am being serious about this. If I can offer you what you want most, would you accept it at the price of your current life? A simple yes or no will suffice.”

[rcmcdium]

She tries to hide her relief as he dismisses her interpretation - ah, so not skydiving. That was comforting, at least. But what kind of gift would require as drastic a change as he was suggesting?

But as he looks around - obviously on alert for eavesdroppers - and his voice turns earnest, she steps back in bewilderment. 

Serious? 

For a few moments, she stares up at him, trying to ignore the rising lump in her throat. 

What she wanted most? 

She wanted her sister back. A family who didn’t prize power above all. A clean slate. A real friend.

... Well, he at least had fulfilled the last wish, to some extent. Granted, she didn’t think he would be interested in baking bread with her, but he made her laugh, intrigued her - and not many could do that. 

Perhaps for a second, she hoped. That he was being serious. That he could offer her what she really, truly wanted.

But that was impossible.

Emily was dead. 

Their brother had verified the death before his own eyes. 

... So she simply looks up at Mac.

“You’ve... done enough already for me.” 

And though she smiles up at him, she squeezes her eyes shut just a moment later - willing the tears to not spill. 

“I want... a lot of things. Selfishly. But yes.”

Unless Mac was hiding a secret ability to turn back time... but that was impossible. 

[duskwilt-m]

「 @rcmcdium ; ❈ 」

「 ❈ 」 Ever since he brought it up to Emily, Mac couldn’t get the idea out of his head. He know how much Lavinia missed her sister, how much what happened pained her—-and he didn’t want her to suffer more than she had to. After all of this, she deserved some happiness, didn’t she? To be around people who cared about her? Even if he’d been keeping the truth a secret for all this time, it never quite settled right with him.

He huffed out a laugh at her response, rolled his eyes. Of course she didn’t take this seriously; rather, she likely had a serious idea in mind that she hadn’t given voice to.

“I’m just trying to figure out a good birthday present,” he excused. “Yours is coming up soon, yeah? I have something in mind, but it would require uprooting, so to speak. Which is why I ask—-are you too attached to your current lifestyle to change it completely?

[rcmcdium]

A birthday present?

She tilted her head slightly at him. 

Uprooting?

“You’re... not going to take me skydiving or anything, right?” 

But even as she blanches at the prospect, she steels her nerves. No way was she going to show terror at something like this. Mac would definitely laugh at her if she did - 

But even skydiving... wouldn’t change her lifestyle completely. 

Unless she died, of course. 

But if he wanted to kill her, he had plenty of opportunities to do so without getting them both on a plane. The pilot would have be dealt with, too...

She stays silent, though, waiting for him to elaborate. 

[rcmcdium]

"Hey, Lavi," Mac's tone is casual as he speaks, as though his inquiry isn't a potentially sensitive subject, "what do want most in the world, and would you be willing to sacrifice your current life to get it?"

"Hm?"

The question is so sudden, so casual and heavy at the same time, that it makes her pause. She'd been debating doing a little shopping on the way to their destination, since Mac was here to help her carry a few bags, but...

What I want most?

Her gaze breaks away from the window display, almost flitting to meet his but not quite - pausing with some resentment at the sight of a nearby rooftop.

A real, whole family.

Or friends to bake and garden with.

Or maybe she wanted a better job, one that didn't make her wonder if she deserved -

No.

Resisting the urge to walk faster, she finally turns to him with a half-smile.

"And what Twenty Questions website gave you the idea to ask that?"

[duskwilt-m]

 「 ❈  emily 」 ​:

Grievances.

That was one way to put it. Her fingers idly lace together, propped up by her knees up on the chair, but at the mention of her ending her life -

Her head snaps back up again to look at him in - fear?

As he finishes speaking, though, she turns towards the doorway, as if waiting for… someone there. 

“Not anymore. Not for… a long time.”

It felt like… so much time had passed since she had last felt the exhaustion soul-deep that came with her previous line of work. The kind of exhaustion that left her staring into dark vials illuminated by desktop fluorescent lights, or not locking her doors before she went to bed at night. 

Her arms tighten around her knees, and her voice cracks.

“I wouldn’t do that to him.”

Reluctantly, she looks back to him, though not without… grief.

“I just wish… she could be happy, too.” 

「 ❈ 」 Yeah, he sure hoped she’d never do that to Fane—-that’d defeat the purpose of uprooting both their lives and starting over in a small town. This sort of simple life suited them both better anyway; neither would’ve ever been happy in their old situations, after all, so this was better all around… except for some complications.

Lavinia being the main one. And didn’t Emily have a brother too? Ah, well, whatever.

“Y’know,” Mac mused, briefly glancing to the door ( was she keeping a lookout for her spouse? ) before his gaze settled back on his company, “there’s really nothing stopping her from doing the same thing. Grief over your supposed death would be a suitable reason, or she could just make it look like either an accident or a hit. Then she could find a place around here, maybe even work at Fane’s flower shop. Does he even have any employees to help him run the place?”

It’d be just like Fane to try and handle it himself, and to be fair, getting close to others would entail keeping secrets from them—-the guy never liked lying to anyone.

[rcmcdium]

Emily couldn’t stop the irritation rising within her at the nonchalant tone of his train of thought - as if what he were suggesting were that easy or simple. 

“What, are you offering to fake a hit on her?”

I’m sure you’re used to doing that, she holds back, though she hides a rueful smile with her sleeve. 

“She’d... be a very good florist.” 

Emily leaves it there - without knowing if Lavinia had disclosed her ability to Mac yet. Though, she probably had - when Vinnie had left her first signatures, the police were so sure they could track the mysterious new killer down by finding their source of blue roses first. Unfortunately for them, Vinnie had created every bouquet herself, without the aid of any greenhouse. 

“I think... Fane is handling it well. I do wonder if I could help more, but our work hours overlap too much, so I can only really help on longer days or my days off.” 

Of course, Mac didn’t need to know that she would have gladly moved her own work hours to help Fane more if it didn’t mean cuddling less at night. 

[duskwilt-m]

 「 ❈  emily 」 ​:

As his sigh fills the room, she removes her hand from her face to sit up again. She had been expecting some smart retort or joke, but it seemed he wasn’t going to tease her this time… which she was grateful for. 

Reluctantly, she looks across the room at him - even if she wanted nothing more than to bury her head in the sand, so to speak, and not throw herself a pity party any more than she already had. 

It’s never been you.

Lovely words, but… she could never quite bring herself to believe them. It had been her choice to leave. Her choice to leave Vinnie behind, even if it meant risking that her little sister would have to fulfill her previous duties. 

Giving Mac a wry smile, she leans forward to prop her elbows on her knees to stare at the floor now. “Did you talk to her about this, or…?” 

「 ❈ 」 Well, there’d been some angry rants here and there, mostly involving targets and torture—-best not to get into any gruesome details. As for a proper attempt to talk about her feelings… Mac’d never broached the subject. As heartless as he often acted, he did care sometimes, and he didn’t want someone he cared about to be sad; consequently, he battled with the desire to reveal everything.

But anyone who still wanted to get to Emily would naturally try to get to her via her dear little sister. Any communication between them would put the secret in jeopardy. More than protect a friend, he wished to protect the life Fane found in this humble town.

Would he ever say as much? Doubtful.

He lifted one shoulder, then dropped it. “She’s expressed grievances. Honestly, though, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why you were unhappy—-why you may want to end your life. I’m sure you know it logically, even if it’s difficult to accept.”

[rcmcdium]

Grievances.

That was one way to put it. Her fingers idly lace together, propped up by her knees up on the chair, but at the mention of her ending her life -

Her head snaps back up again to look at him in - fear?

As he finishes speaking, though, she turns towards the doorway, as if waiting for... someone there. 

“Not anymore. Not for... a long time.”

It felt like... so much time had passed since she had last felt the exhaustion soul-deep that came with her previous line of work. The kind of exhaustion that left her staring into dark vials illuminated by desktop fluorescent lights, or not locking her doors before she went to bed at night. 

Her arms tighten around her knees, and her voice cracks.

“I wouldn’t do that to him.”

Reluctantly, she looks back to him, though not without... grief.

“I just wish... she could be happy, too.” 

[duskwilt-m]

 「 ❈  emily 」 ​:

What had been a casual musing backed by guilt easily pushed into the background came crashing full force into her thoughts at his response - why did he always choose the worst times to interject?

Emily had been referring originally to her… less than upstanding past stained in blood by proxy of poison, but Mac now forced her to remember the family she left behind. Usually, she forgot them long enough to remember why she needed to forget them in the first place, but…  more often than she would have liked to admit, she wondered how her siblings were doing. If Austin would ever be tempted to admit that he knew all along  - if her parents had forgotten her, too - how Vinnie was doing. 

From what little Mac told her of their… acquaintanceship, it seemed she was doing… fine, which was all Emily could ever ask for, but her younger sister had always been the best actress of the three siblings. 

She wondered if her garden bloomed like it used to - if Vinnie had ended up taking over Emily’s role. If she still baked on Saturday mornings, the way they used to… together. 

But it was better like this, wasn’t it? The fewer people knew, the better. It was for Lavinia’s protection, too - or that was what Emily told herself every day. 

“You -” Emily starts with the closest thing to anger - or indignation? - she’s ever shown Mac, but just as quickly, she leans back in her chair, defeated. 

Putting her hand over her face and turning away, she feels compelled to defend Lavinia.

“She’s… not like that.”

A pause.

“If she ever… finds out, you can blame everything on me. It’s my fault… anyway. Sorry… for putting you in this position, and thank you for looking after her.” 

「 ❈ 」 What fun an angry outburst would’ve been! Alas, it died as quickly as it’d been borne, and he leaned his weight against the counter as he listened instead to her apology. He couldn’t exactly call this unexpected; it appeared he struck a nerve, which wasn’t surprising given the subject matter. Of course she worried about her little sister’s well-being. Of course she didn’t want her to suffer. Lavinia’d surely been one of the few people in her life to truly care about her, and losing that bond must’ve hurt.

He didn’t know which sibling had it worse—-the one who knew the truth or the one kept in the dark. Both had a long list of painful cons.

And in the end, he sighed, one hand slipping into his pocket as the opposite elbow rested on the counter’s edge. It’d be remiss of him to let her wallow in grief when he’d been the one to strike a nerve in the first place.

“Seems you’ve misunderstood something here,” he started, keeping his tone nonchalant despite the serious nature of his words. “Lavi knows exactly who to blame for all this, and it’s not you. It’s never been you.”

While she’d likely be upset that a trusted companion ( if he could be called that ) kept secrets from him, he doubted she’d spend too much time dwelling on it. Because it didn’t matter that much when all was said and done.

“She’s already mad at the people responsible—-your parents, along with everyone else who made you so miserable that faking your death became the only way for you to move forward.”

[rcmcdium]

As his sigh fills the room, she removes her hand from her face to sit up again. She had been expecting some smart retort or joke, but it seemed he wasn’t going to tease her this time... which she was grateful for. 

Reluctantly, she looks across the room at him - even if she wanted nothing more than to bury her head in the sand, so to speak, and not throw herself a pity party any more than she already had. 

It’s never been you.

Lovely words, but... she could never quite bring herself to believe them. It had been her choice to leave. Her choice to leave Vinnie behind, even if it meant risking that her little sister would have to fulfill her previous duties. 

Giving Mac a wry smile, she leans forward to prop her elbows on her knees to stare at the floor now. “Did you talk to her about this, or...?” 

[duskwilt-m]

 「 ❋  emi 」 ​:

His answer came in the form of pressing his forehead to her own - a gesture that left her breathless.

His eyes were so pretty.

She’d seen them countless times before, but… the sincere amber warmth always felt like an offering of sunshine just for her, and she couldn’t help but smile in return. 

As those eyes she loved so much gently closed, she briefly pulled away before throwing her arms around him and snuggling her face into his shoulder. 

“Thank you… for letting me be selfish. I - I am… happy. I’m really happy - I couldn’t be happier.”

And as her arms tighten - if a few tears of relief dampen his shirt, who could say?

There was planning to be done, but for just these few moments… she simply wanted to cherish his presence. Whatever happened from here on out… she vowed to protect these simple moments, and do whatever she could to ensure that he never regretted choosing her. 

「 ❋ 」 The people who’d confine Emily to a fate she wished to escape were the selfish ones, not her. Never her. Fane made a mental note to work on her tendency to blame herself, but now didn’t feel like the right time to bring it up; there were so many things they’d be able to work on and improve once they ran away, something he would never take for granted.

He didn’t think he’d ever have anyone to live for, and he’d never take that for granted either. Emily deserved far, far better than to be unappreciated.

As though it was the most natural thing in the world—-so beautifully effortless—-his arms slipped around her waist in kind, holding her close as he nuzzled into her hair. How wonderful for them to share these moments, to simply exist together as one.

His thumb rubbed against her lower back, an attempt to comfort her as she cried. The, he figured there was another vital fact worth mentioning immediately: “The cats have to come too… they’re important.”

[rcmcdium]

As she feels his own arms circle her waist, and his face press softly against her hair - she finds herself thinking that she would gladly have gone through her entire life all over again, all the harsh training, the exhausting isolation, the crippling guilt, if it meant leading her to him. It was all worth it. No more keeping scores for her family - she would be happy to simply keep him warm for the rest of her life. 

She breaks her tears of relief with a laugh when he speaks again.

“Of course - they’re family too. Who else would wake you up in the morning if not for Basil wanting the faucet?”

[duskwilt-m]

♔ 「 @rcmcdium​ asked : “we all have secrets, don’t we?” (emily to macbeth) 。 」

❈ ❞ After a certain point, Mac felt that he’d become so shrouded in secrets and untruths that he couldn’t possibly be considered human anymore—-but then again, monsters like him were scary because they were human, weren’t they? Delving into the semantics and philosophical didn’t interest him much, so he rarely dwelled on the subject; however, even if there were real monsters that lurked in the night, he would still consider humans the scarier bunch.

There was a vast difference between necessity and cruelty when it came to causing pain, especially towards the innocent.

“Some more than others, I’d say.” His typically carefree twisted into something more cynical. “I wonder how your dear little sister would react if she learned that I know you’re alive and well? Ha—-I doubt I’d be breathing for much longer.”

[rcmcdium]

What had been a casual musing backed by guilt easily pushed into the background came crashing full force into her thoughts at his response - why did he always choose the worst times to interject?

Emily had been referring originally to her... less than upstanding past stained in blood by proxy of poison, but Mac now forced her to remember the family she left behind. Usually, she forgot them long enough to remember why she needed to forget them in the first place, but...  more often than she would have liked to admit, she wondered how her siblings were doing. If Austin would ever be tempted to admit that he knew all along  - if her parents had forgotten her, too - how Vinnie was doing. 

From what little Mac told her of their... acquaintanceship, it seemed she was doing... fine, which was all Emily could ever ask for, but her younger sister had always been the best actress of the three siblings. 

She wondered if her garden bloomed like it used to - if Vinnie had ended up taking over Emily’s role. If she still baked on Saturday mornings, the way they used to... together. 

But it was better like this, wasn’t it? The fewer people knew, the better. It was for Lavinia’s protection, too - or that was what Emily told herself every day. 

“You -” Emily starts with the closest thing to anger - or indignation? - she’s ever shown Mac, but just as quickly, she leans back in her chair, defeated. 

Putting her hand over her face and turning away, she feels compelled to defend Lavinia.

“She’s... not like that.”

A pause.

“If she ever... finds out, you can blame everything on me. It’s my fault... anyway. Sorry... for putting you in this position, and thank you for looking after her.” 

[duskwilt-m]

 「 ❋  emi 」 ​:

Letting the question settle into the empty air between them - she suddenly takes strong visual interest in the windows, despite the blinds being mostly drawn. Partially out of fear of a negative response - though it would be completely within his rights to decline  - and partially to remove some pressure from the question.

He responds quicker than she can shift herself on the couch, though - tucking her feet underneath her and settling back into the cushions, as if to press into them and memorize the familiar fabric texture imprinting on her skin - in case this was the last time. 

…. Moving his plants? Her heart drops, the full weight of it suddenly all too obvious. A practical concern - she knew how much he loved his plants, and this would be as kind a way to let her down as any. 

Just as she turns to look at him again - to reassure against all hope that it was okay - the second part of his response processes in her mind. 

“Grow… more?” 

She blinks, staring at him. So was that… a yes? 

She hardly dares hope again so soon after forcing it down, and is reduced to staring back at him with barely-muted desperate want. So much for trying to not pressure him - between her knuckles paling to clutch at her shirt sleeves and the way she leans forward, it’s probably all too evident what she wants to hear. 

「 ❋ 」 A soft hum affirmed the words she echoed back at him, and he watched as she leaned in, his gaze tender and fond—-if only subtly. There was not doubt in his mind; for that reason, it didn’t occur to him that his response could be interpreted as anything but agreement, as anything but a heartfelt desire to spend his life with her. Certainly, they’d have to plan their escape and how to remain hidden from those who may want to pursue them, but for now…

…for now, he mimicked her gesture, leaning in until he could press his forehead to hers. They could think of all the rational stuff later, but for now, he wanted to erase any concern, to soothe and comfort and relish in his good fortune.

If he could spend his life with Emily, after all, then what else could he ask for? To love and be loved—-that was all he truly needed.

Eyes fluttering shut, he relaxed in a way he couldn’t around anyone else. “I would go anywhere with you,” he assured. He knew his communication skills were lacking, yet he did his best to put his thoughts into the proper words so there’d be no room for ambiguity or misunderstandings. “You make me happy, Emi… and I want you to be happy too. You deserve to be happy.”

[rcmcdium]

His answer came in the form of pressing his forehead to her own - a gesture that left her breathless.

His eyes were so pretty.

She’d seen them countless times before, but... the sincere amber warmth always felt like an offering of sunshine just for her, and she couldn’t help but smile in return. 

As those eyes she loved so much gently closed, she briefly pulled away before throwing her arms around him and snuggling her face into his shoulder. 

“Thank you... for letting me be selfish. I - I am... happy. I’m really happy - I couldn’t be happier.”

And as her arms tighten - if a few tears of relief dampen his shirt, who could say?

There was planning to be done, but for just these few moments... she simply wanted to cherish his presence. Whatever happened from here on out... she vowed to protect these simple moments, and do whatever she could to ensure that he never regretted choosing her. 

[duskwilt-m]

 「 ❈  lavi 」 ​:

Somehow, despite the handful of roles she’d witnessed Mac inhabit in their line of work, up until now, she’d never seen him in that shade of deep wine red - and she’s suddenly very thankful that she didn’t have any work today.

The compliment had slipped out before she meant it to - was she getting too comfortable? For someone who prided herself on being casually in control, it was… unlike her to be familiar enough with someone to simply speak without a filter.

Half of her is idly wondering if he had a target tonight, or if this was a play he really was interested in seeing - either way, though, the night was sure to be entertaining.

At his response, she laughs softly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were flirting with me.” Or, rather, trying to coax her to let her guard down before cleaning up one more rival in the underground.

「 ❈ 」 “Flirting?” Mac echoed, sounding almost scandalised at the accusation. “Oh, no, I’m just stating mere facts. You—-well, to be perfectly blunt, you’re a little young for me in that regard.” A straightforward and reasonable ( and honest, though that often came secondary ) way to reject any potential advances, he felt. 

Not to mention how weird it’d be for him to flirt with Lavinia, given her sister was married to his brother. But they all had their secrets, and at least for the time being, he had no intention of revealing that particular one; that was Emily’s business at the end of the day.

Even if their initial meeting had been coincidental, Mac still saw it as a favour to Emily for him to keep in touch with Lavinia and see how she was doing. And in terms of self-care, what could be better than an evening at the theatre?

He handed his companion the pamphlet he’d grabbed earlier. “Ah, the play. It’s a murder mystery, of course, written and directed by a local playwright, and it’s received glowing reviews. Sounds fun, yeah?”

[rcmcdium]

Just as smoothly, Lavinia laughs - “Or, put another way, you’re getting a little old. Time for retirement?” 

Accepting the pamphlet with a flourish, she glances over it - though it was usually more fun to go into these kinds of things blind. Guessing the plot was always a nice, low-stakes way to exercise some creativity - assuming the writing was intelligent. She trusted Mac’s judgment, though, and fanned the pamphlet against her chest to beam at him. “Hey, what if the first person to figure out the culprit gets dinner as the other’s treat?” 

Competition, especially with a worthy opponent - she would like nothing more out of tonight. 

[duskwilt-m]

♔ 「 @rcmcdium​​ asked : “would you run away with me?” (emily to fane) 。 」

❋ ❞ No matter how much he thought back, Fane could never remember a time he had a home. He always had his mother ( until he didn’t ), yet he never connected to any physical location; it didn’t matter to him, not as long as he had his loved ones near. But he’d been lost for years by now, always drifting and always alone—-with precious little to hold onto.

Even though he’d lived in his current apartment the longest so far and he’d even grown somewhat comfortable there, it never felt quite right, always something off, always something missing.

But Emily felt right.

Like the hole in his chest was being filled with something other than grief and loneliness, like he could live and not regret that fact, like he could breathe again after being deprived of oxygen for so long.

Consequently, he didn’t need a second to think about her question: he’d follow her to the ends of the earth if it came to that.

“It would… probably be hard to move all my plants…” Their cats, on the other hand, were an absolute necessity, so he could figure something out. “We can always grow more.”

[rcmcdium]

Letting the question settle into the empty air between them - she suddenly takes strong visual interest in the windows, despite the blinds being mostly drawn. Partially out of fear of a negative response - though it would be completely within his rights to decline  - and partially to remove some pressure from the question.

He responds quicker than she can shift herself on the couch, though - tucking her feet underneath her and settling back into the cushions, as if to press into them and memorize the familiar fabric texture imprinting on her skin - in case this was the last time. 

.... Moving his plants? Her heart drops, the full weight of it suddenly all too obvious. A practical concern - she knew how much he loved his plants, and this would be as kind a way to let her down as any. 

Just as she turns to look at him again - to reassure against all hope that it was okay - the second part of his response processes in her mind. 

“Grow... more?” 

She blinks, staring at him. So was that... a yes? 

She hardly dares hope again so soon after forcing it down, and is reduced to staring back at him with barely-muted desperate want. So much for trying to not pressure him - between her knuckles paling to clutch at her shirt sleeves and the way she leans forward, it’s probably all too evident what she wants to hear. 

[duskwilt-m]

♔ 「 @rcmcdium​​ asked : “it’s not safe for people to see us together.” (emily to fane) 。 」

❋ ❞ Though typically not a festive person himself, Fane saw the light display in the park while walking home and thought it’d be nice to visit with Emily—-which was, in and of itself, a strange thought for him to have. He’d become unattached from people in general; initially, he spoke to her solely because of her cat, and recent revelations about their professions made the whole situation more complicated.

But they were… friends, maybe? After being alone for so long ( and in the first place, he only ever had one person by his side ), he couldn’t quite tell what qualified as close or as a connection, but they seemed to get along, seemed to have similar values.

After being alone for so long, maybe he was just desperate.

He called Emily once he finished putting his groceries away, and with a cordial greeting, he explained that it could be nice to go together. Never one to be optimistic, he couldn’t say that the gentle rejection came as a shock.

“Oh… okay. You’re right.” But the lack of shock didn’t prevent his chest from tightening—-why, though? Was he disappointed? Sad? “I still… want to see you,” he ventured after a moment of silence.

[rcmcdium]

Alone in her apartment, clutching her spare phone with both hands, eyes looking anxiously around the room for any visible bugs - not that they would be visible if there were any - it’s a miracle that she manages to keep her voice relatively calm even as she declines. Even if she wished she could go, have friends freely in public without being scrutinized and criticized for it. Friends... who wouldn’t be in danger simply by associating with her, and by extension her family.

It wasn’t safe. Mostly for him - she was worried about her own affiliation. Not that his life seemed much safer, but she couldn’t say honestly that she would be particularly saddened if any danger he unintentionally could expose her to ended up coming to pass. But if he got hurt because of her... she didn’t even want to think about it. 

Not just because he was innocent - at least, in her eyes. But he was... a friend, a real friend who she strangely felt as if there were no pretenses with. 

The silence hangs between them - something between rejection and desperate unsaid wishes. 

I still want to see you.

And in spite of everything, she can’t help but smile. 

“... Then I’ll come see you.” 

She’d figure it out - even if it meant cheating with her ability to avoid being followed. 

[duskwilt-m]

♔ 「 @rcmcdium​ asked : “ wow— that is definitely your color. ” (for mac, from lavinia) 。 」

❈ ❞ Contrary to what most may assume from his demeanor, Mac possessed little self-preservation; his friendship with Lavinia proved that fact, in his humble opinion, if only because he knew how upset she’d be if she knew the secrets he kept from her. It would’ve been far safer to cut contact the moment he realised who she was—-but he’d long since stopped caring about his own life.

Which led to him inviting the most dangerous woman he’d ever met ( Emily didn’t count solely due to being too kind ) to see a play with him, and he greeted her with a bright smile as they met outside the theatre.

At the compliment, he lit up even further, a hand brushing along the opposite sleeve of his wine red blazer. “Yeah, you think so? I have to admit that I’m a little jealous—-there’s not a single colour you look bad in, after all.”

[rcmcdium]

Somehow, despite the handful of roles she'd witnessed Mac inhabit in their line of work, up until now, she'd never seen him in that shade of deep wine red - and she's suddenly very thankful that she didn't have any work today.

The compliment had slipped out before she meant it to - was she getting too comfortable? For someone who prided herself on being casually in control, it was... unlike her to be familiar enough with someone to simply speak without a filter.

Half of her is idly wondering if he had a target tonight, or if this was a play he really was interested in seeing - either way, though, the night was sure to be entertaining.

At his response, she laughs softly. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were flirting with me." Or, rather, trying to coax her to let her guard down before cleaning up one more rival in the underground.

[rcmcdium]

the cards are in your hand, @desiderium-eden​

The case weighs heavily in hand - stacks of paper inside, enough to buy a small house, or its weight in gold, or even freedom.

Freedom. The thing she’s wanted, since the very beginning, since she first tasted the word as a young girl in Nikolai’s household. The thing she ached for even as she told herself it was unnecessary next to love, a genuine bond.

Freedom. The metaphorical sun her ivies would always reach endlessly for, defying gravity to creep over hot glazed brick and curl fresh green leaves into the light, roots misplaced in the loose soil of faithless love. 

With his attention, she lifts the case up, and sets it silently on the desk - enters the combination with a practiced, mechanical ease - unlatches the case - and opens it facing him. “... You told me when we first met - that once I could pay my debt to you in full, that you would allow me to leave.”

A pause, to allow eyes to lift from the stacks of bills in the case, to his again. 

“This should be the correct amount. You’re free to count it.” 

She falls silent again - how to explain? She doesn’t exactly want to leave - but she doesn’t want the threat of money - the threat of power - to loom over them any longer. She doesn’t want... to leave things as they are. 

“... And with this, my debt should be paid... so I’d like to quit my job here now. Thank you for everything.”

She’s internally screaming at herself - telling herself to say anything, do anything - rather than treat this like some corporate pink slip event. But still - this is what she wanted, right?

[rcmcdium]

we’ll pretend this present for @duskwilt‘s Pyrrha isn’t suPER late

owo what’s this?

A package - marked fragile. As usual, Emily has a tendency to send paired gifts - never able to decide on just one thing while shopping around. The fragile part of the gift is a cat clock, and nestled below it under some crumpled paper is a bright planner for the upcoming academic year. A birthday card is tucked into the planner, too. 

“Dearest Pyrrha,

Happy 22nd birthday! I hope you like the gifts included - maybe next year, we’ll finally be able to pay tribute in person. Fane actually helped me pick out the cat clock - hopefully it goes with the rest of your decor. Stay illustrious, friend.

<3,

Emily and Fane

[rcmcdium]

BODY LANGUAGE.

bold.      always   /  usually applies italic.      only applies situationally   /   sometimes

𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜.   arms  crossed  on  chest.  crossing  legs.     fist-like  gestures.     pointing  index  finger.      karate  chops.     stiffening  of  shoulders.     tense  posture.     curling  of  lip.     baring  of  teeth.

𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎. hand  to  face  gestures.     head  tilted.    stroking chin.     peering  over   glasses.      taking glasses  off  —  cleaning.      putting  earpiece  of  glasses  in mouth.       pipe  smoker  gestures.    putting  hand  to  the  bridge  of  nose.   pursed  lips.   knitted  brows.

𝚜𝚞𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚗.  arms  crossed.  sideways  glance.    touching  or  rubbing  nose.    rubbing  eyes.   hands  resting  on  weapon.  brows  rising.    lips  pressing  into  a  thin  line.     strict  unwavering  eye  contact.  wrinkling  of  nose.

𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 & 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. open  hands.   upper  body  in  sprinters  position.      sitting  on  the  edge  of  a  chair.      hand-to-face gestures.      unbuttoned  coat.     tilted  head.     slacked  shoulders.  droopy  posture.     feet  pointed  outward.      palms  flat  and  facing  outward.

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎. hands  behind  back.   hands  on  lapels  of  coat.   steepled  hands.   baring  teeth  in  a  grin.     rolling  shoulders.   tipping  head  back  but maintaining  eye  contact.   chest  puffed  up.     shoulders  back.     arms  folded  just  above  navel.

𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 & 𝚊𝚗𝚡𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚢. chewing  pen  or  pencil.     rubbing  thumb  over  opposite  thumb.    biting  fingernails.   hands  in  pockets.   elbow  bent.     closed  gestures.     clearing  throat.    “ whew ”  sound.     picking  or  pinching  flesh.   fidgeting  in  chair.   hand  covering  mouth  whilst  speaking.    poor  eye  contact.     tugging  at  pants  whilst  seated.     jingling  money  in pockets.      tugging  at  ear.   perspiring  hands.   playing  with  hair.    swaying.   playing  with  pointer or marker.      smacking  lips.      sighing.     rocking  on  balls  of  feet. flexing  fingers  sporadically.

𝚏𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.  short  breaths.     “ tsk ”  sounds.    tightly  clenched  hands.   fist-like  gestures.    pointing  index  finger.    running  hand  through  hair.    rubbing  back  of  neck.   snarling.       revealing  teeth.     grimacing.     sharp-eyed  glowers  with  notable  tension  in  brows.     shoulders  back  ,  head  up   -   defensive  posturing.    clenching  of  jaw.   grinding  of  teeth. nostrils  flaring  /  heavy  exhales.

TAGGED  BY   : the ever-beloved @mythlived​! TAGGING   :  u bby, plus @desiderium-eden​ (hope this is ok! and that you’re doing well!)

[rcmcdium]

"Which of these do you like better?" Percy read ahead in the chapter and already took notes, so the professor's lecture is nothing new; instead, she spent the class doodling absentmindedly, and she's produced two pages of various animal sketches that she now shows Emily. "You can have your favourite." She has nothing better to do besides give them away. The second would go to either Eliot or Kit----whoever she saw first.

“Oh, thanks! These are so cute!”

She gently takes the page that has a cat on it - of course. Immediately, she puts it down on the desk before reaching into her backpack, and taking out a clear binder, proceeds to slot the drawing into the front cover. 

“It’s really good - especially the cat!” She proudly shows Percy the page, now safely protected by a plastic covering. The sketch has nothing to do with the course the binder is for, but form over function isn’t so bad every now and then.