伯爵

"The agents of destiny, guides of history... We are called many names. Ah, but the Apostles of Idea... Does that ring a bell?" Saint-Germain [ Code: Realize ]

[sanjeruman]

She stands before him, mahogany curls tousling lightly in the wind as they stand atop the rolling fields of flowers they've planted over their years together. Her smile is was warm as the sunshine that kisses the peaks of her cheeks and joy sparkles in her jeweled irises. "For you Saint," she says finally and places a bouquet in his hands. French Marigold, Mistletoe, Myrtle, Red & Tea Roses.

French Marigold — “You are unreasonably jealous.” Mistleoe — “Kiss me”Myrtle — “Be my sweetheart.” Red Rose — “I love you”Tea Rose — “I’ll remember, always.”

Recently has been a busy time for the pair of them; returning from travels, reconnecting with their friends, celebrating a special time of year together. In his absence some of them take care of his home, and he appreciates it. After all, this garden has only grown more and more beautiful over the years he’s spent at his lady’s side. She no longer has to have a fear of harming the flowers, and Saint enjoys the way she looks when she’s able to tend to the garden. There’s been many a new experience for her, even though Saint has been through life after life after life, even he finds this life he has now is interesting. He’s free. She’s free. They live their lives unburdened any longer. 

He opens the large doors to the courtyard, the breeze carrying the faint and gentle smell of flowers towards him. He breathes in, slow and deep. It is however, surprisingly quiet, and so he takes a step outside; his light footsteps barely making a sound on the stone ground beneath his feet, an old habit he should perhaps leave behind by now. 

“Cardia-san?” he calls softly, wondering where she must have disappeared to.

“I’m right here!” her answer is immediate, as she peers out from behind one of the large bushes.

His smile reflects the warmth in his chest as he takes leisurely strides towards her. “You’ve been out here for some time my dear.” There’s a hint of teasing to his tone, though they are both quite aware of what truly lies beneath that. He catches the knowing mirthful gaze of his wife as she uses one hand to brush off her dress and brings herself more directly into view before him. 

His head tilts curiously.

"For you Saint," she says finally and places a bouquet in his hands.

For a moment, he blinks; it’s not unusual for them to exchange flowers, both are fond of their beauty and ephemeral life, but he is momentarily caught off-guard. 

“Well now, don’t you have a lot to say?” He chuckles, and takes the bouquet from her hands. “Truly, an interesting selection.” He peers at her from beyond the rainbow of colours, and takes a moment to formulate that which he wishes to say. 

“Setting aside the matter of those marigold for a moment,” he begins, “I love you also. More than anything I can fathom ever having loved in the years upon years I have lived. You are my life, my love, the one who was fated to be beside me, even when Trimegistos left me unaware to that fact.” His heart pangs, just for a moment. “You are my sweetheart, and I am yours. Forever and always.” He lowers the flowers enough to bring the rest of his face into view, leans forward just a little. “You may have my kisses whenever you desire; this you know. And I will also take them whenever I so please. This you also know.”

He secures the bouquet in one hand, removing their presence from between them. The other hand makes it’s way to her cheek as she stands before him, cheeks dusted in pink. His unreadable face moves ever closer; but it ends beside her ear, not even pausing for a kiss. 

“You know I am selfish, Cardia-san. Especially when it comes to you.” His thumb grazes across her lips, and he chuckles gently. “I am terribly jealous that others get to see you and your beauty. I must make sure they all know who you belong to.” 

With that, he pulls away with the same smile as ever. Though he knows, just as well, if there’s anyone who can read the unreadable - it is her.

[cfmusings-blog]

           ιғ yoυ’ll вe мy caυѕe oғ deaтн,                    тнen тнaт'ѕ нow ι wanт тo go.

[sanjeruman]

"Please... don't..."

It still singes, even if it doesn’t burn the way it used to. The ring, embedded with emerald, is working slowly but surely to negate the terrible effects of her touch. He tries, sometimes, to see just how far he can go, before his fingers feel the sting of the heat, of the poison that melts through anything. Or did, once upon a time.

He knows, he should stop when he feels it; he knows it doesn’t make her happy, when he lingers on those parts of her. But they’re still her, and he doesn’t want to leave any part of her untouched, really. And, in a way, it reminds him of that moment on the bridge — where he told her, if she was a monster, then so was he; where he held her hand to his face, felt the sting and the pain as it began to melt away and heal all at the same time. To him it was an important moment, one in his many long years of memories he wouldn’t ever forget.That is why it pleases him, to feel even a fragment of that sensation again.  

“I’m sorry, Cardia-san,” he says with a wry smile, pulling his hand away from her and back towards his chest. “I am a selfish man.” He has vowed to make her happy, and in these moments he feels the guilt of his self-serving actions — knowing he has caused her unease and concern because of it. Instead, he moves his hand to her cheek, strokes the backs of his fingers down the side of her face, and pushes her hair behind her ear. His fingers thread into her soft locks of hair — all these places safe now — and leans in to press a kiss to her forehead. 

And then he steps away, usual smile returning.

“I love you, Cardia-san, terribly so.”

[sanjeruman]

White Camellia — "You’re adorable” Please!

He spends late nights in solitude, at times; the peace and quiet of his courtyard a familiar and welcome serenity. Though it often becomes a time where he can get lost in his thoughts, he’ll often take to tending the flowers, it simply wouldn’t do for his garden to no longer be presentable to those who may pass— or enter — the gates. There was still much and more to see of the world, despite the fact they had returned home for the time being. 

He has already asked Cardia to marry him, and thinks that perhaps he should begin arrangements to see it through, now that they are back in London — but he also knows there is no need to rush, and though the thoughts of the day race through his mind and give even his old soul a taste of excitement, he wants to make sure it is perfect. Cardia doesn’t know where to begin, and really — neither does he. He lived many lives, but none of those came to this level of importance; he vanished long before then in each of the ones he lived, not wanting to make people suspicious, and perhaps not wanting to see those he knew grow old and die around him, no matter how natural the process. 

As he trims the stem of another flower with a gentle snip, he hears the soft sound of bare footsteps on concrete. He smiles, knowingly, without need to turn around. “It’s late, Cardia-san.” he chides quietly as the patter of feet moves ever closer. “You should still be asleep.”

Cardia opens her mouth for a moment to retort — but she knows him, and knows she cannot win. Instead, she simply moves up beside him, mirrors his crouch, and leans her head against his shoulder. 

“As much as I love the idea of becoming your pillow, outdoors is hardly the place to return to sleep.” Saint glances to her as she leans, carefree, delicate skin that no longer burns through what it touches resting on the sleeve of his clothing.

She points to the flower he had just trimmed, “do you know the meaning of that one, too?” She ask, ignoring his comment and once more seeking even the simplest of knowledge.

And who was Saint to not indulge his future wife in what she wished to know? He twirls the flower in his fingers by its stem. “You would give them to someone if you wished to say you’re adorable. As such they are a rather perfect fit for you.”

Cardia hums, and a small smile crosses her lips. “I think they suit you more.”

Saint blinks, “Me?”

“You’re adorable.”

The Count is momentarily at a loss for words, much unlike himself, and shakes his head. 

“I think you must be mistaken, Cardia-san.” He laughs gently, amused and perhaps somewhat pleased that she thinks so — though handsome would be an equivalently good alternative. “Thank you.” He adds, turning his head to press a kiss gently to the top of hers; and as he places the pair of scissors in his hand on the ground, he moves it in a way that allows him to cup her cheek and lift her head from his shoulder to kiss her once more — properly, this time.

[sanjeruman]

hope everyone who’s still alive out here in the rp world is doing okay i am back and i am ready to write after 984573984 years not writing

[sanjeruman]

horclogium·:

“Holding hands will make me a sinner.”

“I can assure you that isn’t the case, Miss Cardia.” 

[urinamoon]

*grabs tissues, grabs tissues* i’m freaking crying at this ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ )‧º·˚

[sanjeruman]

poisonouslovedoll·:

“How much do I know about the constellations?”

Cardia’s head turns away from him, her eyes trained upward again towards the night sky. 

“..I’ve read about them,” she finally admits after taking a moment to focus her eyes on the mass amount of stars above them, “I know what they are and some were from stories, but…I’ve never quite gotten to really try to find them.” She lowers her head before allowing her lips to tug up into a smile. 

Yet her body seems to curl inward, the smile becoming one of remorse than happiness.

“I spent less time looking up and more of it closing my eyes…”

He watches her attentively as she speaks; observing, as he always does. It is as he predicted, in a way. When she had first come here many things were new, and she was very disconnected from the world around her - it stood to reason that the sky was no exception. 

“Hmm... That is understandable.” What else was one meant to do when their only choice was to wait? When they had exhausted the resources around them? Saint is lucky that as the world continues on, as he is able to travel, there’s far more he can obtain than any other. “Then, you should make the most of it now.” he suggests, “I can tell you about some of them, since I have heard many of the stories.” He heard them when they were first created, was there to see them passed down through generations, he knows many tales like the back of his hand, now. 

[musesofsirius]

Gods 4th Messenger ~Closed RP~

[sanjeruman]

musesofsirius·:

Midori slept for quite sometime not moving much at all. It seemed to be a dreamless sleep for the most part. The deep satisfying kind. His eyes fluttered open and he sat up looking around the room. He yawned a little trying to move his wings wincing at the pain it caused him. 

“A..Ah…” Still couldn’t move them the way he wanted. He stood up and went to the window hesitantly peering out. The sun was starting to set. He had been asleep for awhile. He still tried to stretch his wings the stiffness bothering him a little bit. He looked around the room. 

“…Saint? Are you still around?” he asked softly. He almost felt like he needed some verbal go-ahead to leave the room. He was somewhat used to this sort of thing due to what he had been going through for so long. It would take time for him being used to otherwise. 

Still he walked towards the door saying it again just in case. “Saint? You’re still around right?” He made sure to speak a little louder in case the other may not have heard. 

Saint has had plenty to think about, and plenty of time in which to do it, but once he had distanced himself from the room in which Midori was sleeping he was able to relax better. He cast the thoughts aside - they were ones he didn’t, and wouldn’t, have answers to and he needed to come to accept that sooner rather than later so that he might deal with the present. 

All things considered, he settles on preparing a dinner. He isn’t sure what Midori’s tastes are... at all. All that time ago, he ate without question anything that was given to him - but Saint had never asked for his favourites, or his preferences... Well, maybe he can ask these things over this meal. Perhaps in this way he will be able to make up for at least a few things - even though deep down inside of him somewhere is a warning. 

He’s heading back down the hall when he hears Midori’s voice, and quickens his step. He knocks lightly on the door before he enters. “I am still here, sorry.” He starts, closing the door behind him. “I was making food for when you woke up. I decided on a salad since it would be light, and being cold it wouldn’t matter at what time you woke up to eat.” 

“Good evening, sleepyhead.” he teases, and moves to set the tray in his hands on the nearby desk. “How are you feeling?” he questions, on a slightly more serious note.

[sanjeruman]

sakuraari·:

LITTLE HANDS HANDLE thehat as carefully as possible; unlike most children, Arianawasn’t rough with the things she owned, let alone things thatbelonged to OTHERS. Gentle andconsiderate, tiny fingertips would lightly trace the small decorations thatmade the hat so special; arctic-hues open WIDEwith some sort of amazement.

Though her gaze is promptly drawn away as the kindestwords escape his lips, making her smile grow even WIDER as eyes meet with his. “Y…Youreally th-th…think so…?” she askscuriously – the slightest tone of disbelief audible in her tone – the softestof gasps push past thin lips as he places the hat atop her own head. Yup,it was certainly fitted for adults; then again, being naturally tinydidn’t better the fit, either. Drooping down, a playful giggle soonfollows as little hands push the hat up so she could see him clearly.

Guided through his words, she turns her body to look intothe shop window, and – for a moment – little Ari falls silent,but it isn’t long before an excited smile graces her lips once again. “I-It’s a little b-b…big…” she chuckles, “—B-ButI l…like it! N…Now I l-look fancy like y-y…y…you!”

It’s been some time, since he even considered the idea of socialising with a child. Years, and years, may pass, but it doesn’t help the sting of the past - when it’s as atrocious as his is. Still, he’s not rude and he’s not at risk. And neither is she, of course. His hat is certainly far too large, and if given the chance it would probably fall and hide her entire head - the image in his mind’s eye enough to make him want to laugh aloud. It would be adorable, and silly. 

She lifts the hat to look at him before she looks into the window, and he turns to follow suit, looking at their reflections. It’s almost like watching a scene that isn’t involving him - he looks at his own reflection beside hers, and has many questions for himself, however this isn’t the time or the place for that nonsense. Instead he listens to her when she breaks the silence, and focuses on that.

“Haha, it is a little big but I think that’s to be expected. Still, I agree that you look very fancy now, on top of being adorable.” he grins. Of course he doesn’t want to seem too weird, talking randomly with strangers in the street - even if she did approach him first - so he soon turns his focus to slightly more important matters. Well, kind of. “So,” he crouches so that she doesn’t need to keep tilting the hat and looking up at him, “what is your name?” he asks. “Mine is Saint-Germain.” 

[sanjeruman]

 poisonouslovedoll:

Cardia’s eyes trained upward, sometimes her head moving a bit to look at one star before returning to another. The moon shined so brightly that even she had an odd feeling why Impey was so eager to get to the moon.

It was very beautiful….

Cardia’s shoulders jolted up, her eyes wide and mouth parted slightly to let out a soft gasp. Her head turns in the direction of his voice and her body relaxes upon realizing who it was.

“Ah…Saint Germain,” her lips turning into a smile before returning back to look up to the sky, “Yes…I..Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of it.”

He finds himself pleased with the answer, very much in agreement with a similar sentiment. But there’s so much more to the sky than the beauty of the stars, or at least more to understand within it. 

“Tell me, Miss Cardia, how much do you know about star constellations?” He doesn’t know what kind of books she may or may not have read before - but he is aware from Lupin’s description that the moonlight and night sky were visible from her lonely room. So for lack of better reasoning, he’s simply curious.

[musesofsirius]

Gods 4th Messenger ~Closed RP~

[sanjeruman]

 musesofsirius:

Midori laid down in the bed and hugged a pillow on the bed closer to him. He curled up there letting out a sigh. Finally his body relaxed. He felt safe for once. “Alright Saint..” He mumbled. “Thank you so much…for everything…sometimes I wonder why god gave me someone like you. I don’t feel like I deserve it much but..I’m happy you think I’m worth it..” With that he fell asleep. He even snored a bit. He had been exhausted! Saint had done good that much was for sure. 

“Well, He’s quite unpredictable, isn’t He?” On the other hand though, Saint could offer that same question - why had he been lead to this child before, and why now? This one was too pure and kind, too gentle and soft, especially for the harsh world surrounding him. Saint wonders, then, as he sits and looks at the sleeping Midori - for what reason is he always lead to the man who is the most dangerous? And why, of all things, is it that God chose him to become an angel? Because of his purity? He doesn’t know - he doesn’t know and it bothers him. He lets out a long sigh as he looks a the peacefully sleeping Midori. “You’re all wrapped up in trouble again.” he muses; though this is a little less of his making at least, “you’ll need all the rest you can get.”

[sanjeruman]

“All this was prepared for me. All this was set in motion long ago.” Saint/Cardia please!

It’s still so hard to believe. The part that he played in all of this. But it makes him feel guilty, too. Had he not made so foolish a wish, would his dear friend still be here? No, what ifs are meaningless, and Trismegistus had long said he had more than one reason for researching the philosopher’s stone. However that doesn’t make it something any less painful - as much as Saint could convince himself it wasn’t his fault entirely, knowing that his friend had desired death so much that he would risk everything to obtain it regardless, it was still a saddening (yet, understandable after all this time) thought. 

“Saint?”

He refocuses at the call of his name, curious young eyes on a tilted head looking at him. “Sorry,” he begins, “I was lost in thought.” Cardia responds to the words with an expression that says she knew that much already, but she doesn’t pry. Sometimes, he wishes she would - she does occasionally, but he finds it difficult to speak of himself without some prompting. His life, all in all, hasn’t been the most pleasant - the tales and experiences he has, aren’t all that happy and fun and interesting. 

He gazes at Cardia, long and hard; thinks about what it is they have come through, as they stand aboard the ship that heads to their next destination - his long lost home. In some way, he has fears - what is it like now? What memories will sights bring up? Likely none pleasant; life as a slave without anything doesn’t provide a joyous childhood - but he had one, at least. Cardia didn’t have that luxury, at least not as she currently is, so perhaps he will find a way to talk about it. He wants her to understand him, to know the things others never will, to understand his past not only as an apostle, but that time when he was as human as Lupin and the others. 

He thinks more about Trismegistus - his words, ever the cryptic and questionable - and takes Cardia’s left hand into his right, sets his eyes on the emerald that rests within the ring on her finger. His meddling - when did it begin? For him to have known that the research would be useful to him, for him to have known that the emerald and the philosopher’s stone would be needed to make his one single wish as a human come true... He must have known all along. Saint would curse him if he had the heart, for keeping it to himself - but he also knows just how much of a brat he was, and just how little he understood. To risk and give ones life for someone else - to now finally know that the person Trismegistus had deemed so worth of risking it all for was him. Him, who treated the alchemist with scorn and disregard so often, who spoke of performing acts of violence against him so petulantly that it’s a wonder his friend persisted in trying so hard. 

Saint’s other hand joins the one holding Cardia’s, his fingers brushing the emerald with the same conflicting and lost look as when he first read the contents of the tablet silently to himself. “All this was prepared for me. All this was set in motion long ago.” His words are a murmur, but Cardia doesn’t fail to catch them. 

“Fate wasn’t always against us.” She says, “your friend helped turn it in your favour, didn’t he?” There’s a smile on her face, comforting and bright. “So I think we should be grateful, and make the most of his blessing.” 

Saint laughs, a little wryly. “He would probably shrug and call it unnecessary if he heard you say that.” But she is right. Without his meddling, he doubts their journey would have been successful. He will likely be thankful for as long as the rest of his life allows him to be, and with Cardia at his side he truly has gained that ordinary happiness that he had wished for. He doesn’t know what the future will bring - he doesn’t share in Omnibus or Trismegistus’ foresight, but he knows now that no matter what it does bring, he doesn’t have to face it alone. He has Cardia, and he has dear, dear friends - and though none may hold the candle to his oldest one, the one that bordered on being a (terribly unreliable and foolishly whimsical) parental figure, he knows that with their aid any further trials can be overcome with ease so long as he trusts in them.

As Cardia once had, Saint brings her hand - her finger with the ring - up to rest at his forehead. “Thank you, Trismegistus.” It feels terribly silly, and he can almost feel the alchemist laughing at him again, but he is glad he has done it. He smiles as he raises his head, and leans in to kiss his fiancee. “And thank you, Cardia-san, for putting up with me.” Because he knows, as much as he would rather deny it - that he can be just as whimsical, foolish, and stupid as that one. 

[justanotherrpmeme]

Send my muse some flowers and they'll react to their meaning

Begonia — “We are being watched.” Blue Flax — “You are very kind.” Blue Hyacinth — “I will give my life to your service.” Bronze Chrysanthemum — “Though I value your friendship, I cannot love you.” Daffodil — “I do not return your affections.” Deadly Nightshade — “I believe you to be false.” Foxglove — “You are not really in love.” French Marigold — “You are unreasonably jealous.” Hawthorn — "Despite your answer, I shall strive to win your love.” Iris — "Your friendship means so much to me” Lavender — “I like you very much, but this, I am sure, is not love.” Mistleoe — “Kiss me” Myrtle — “Be my sweetheart.” Ox-eye Daisy — “I might learn to love you.” Pink Carnation — “I’ll never forget you.” Purple Hyacinth — “I am sorry, please forgive me.” Red Rose — “I love you” Scarlet Geranium — "I do not trust you.” Spider Flower — “Elope with me.” Sweet Pea — "Thank you for a lovely time.” Tea Rose — "I’ll remember, always.” Viscaria — “Will you dance with me?” White Camellia — "You’re adorable.” White Rose — "I love you not.” Yellow Rose — "I love another.”

[fellvaguely-deactivated20191009]

ship with me you cowards

[sanjeruman]

Saiinntt GGGGG WHAT'S GOOD???!!

“I see you’re… hmm… full of life, as always. But why don’t you start by telling me ‘what’s good’, yes?”

[sanjeruman]

 poisonouslovedoll:

“……”

It’s quiet….It always surprised her how quiet it was when everyone fell asleep. The day time was filled with life, ruckus and laughter from the rooms of the mansion.

Surely no one would believe that the mansion they all resided in ever had a moment of silence.

Yet tonight….It seemed the case.

Sitting alone in the gardens she stares upward towards the night sky, eyes trained to the stars and moon as a gentle breeze brushed against her hair. 

Saint was not usually one of the last to sleep, but today an important matter had come up and he was secluded to his study for a little longer than usual; problems dealt with, he decides a walk to stretch his legs and return to himself a semblance of peace before sleeping something necessary. What he doesn’t expect when he heads out into the rear gardens is to see Cardia - the root of the earlier mild issue - sat, distracted, eyes and mind seemingly elsewhere.

For a moment, he’s content to watch.

“Can’t sleep?” he eventually asks as he approaches, offering her something of a smile - whether she sees it or not - before he too turns his eyes to the night sky. Thousands of years may pass, but he is glad that the sky above him never truly changes. “Do you like it?” he questions, “the night sky, I mean.”