Lonely / Lovely / Lethal

[shadowatmorning]

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a slow-paced, mature indie & private portrayal of original character Celia Clarke focusing on themes of the aftereffects of a life spent enduring pain, losing control, abandoning others before they abandon you, and the mess made while healing.

written by Ruin ( 30, white, they/them )

BROUGHT BACK FROM THE DEAD 11/13/24

[ iceout ] [ migra whistle ] [ freedom for immigrants ] [ support Palestine & Lebanon ]

AFFILIATES.

@afteriimage && @archaeval / @sanguinisa && @boltchased / @wandercr && @cybrvce (blogroll) && @primitiaxorsa && @treerie

BLOGROLL.

@tempesttragedy - multifandom multimuse ( low activity )

shadowatmorning - you are here ( high activity )

@deathstwilightkingdom - aesthetic sideblog ( visual and descriptive triggers present )

GRAPHIC COMMISSIONS OPEN.

LINKS.

[ rules & info ]

[ interest tracker ]

[ meme tag ] ( always open )

[ perm. plotting call ]

CREDIT.

music: reinairy on yt

voice clips: katie leung in Arcane

icon art by @.pellelavellan ( ko-fi ) ; icon edited by ruin

[shadowatmorning]

@explosivedarling asked for this

The door had been quite obviously kicked in when she arrived, the setting sun leaving lingering shadows dancing across the pavement of the walkway. the lights within had been off, but the brief flip of a switch had changed that quite easily.

though Celia's focus had been intent upon the countertop before her, she can sense the second presence near the doorway. unannounced visitor or voyeur, they had yet to show any ill intent, so Celia exhales a soft sight before glancing back over her shoulder.

"How long have you been standing there?

[raesource]

injury / injured prompts

if you are sending to a multi-muse, remember to specify the muse that the prompts are being sent for . you can add + reverse to swap roles .

👕 Blood seeps through receiver's shirt from a fresh stab wound.

🗡️ Press a bladed weapon into the receiver’s side.

🤕 Peel back the receiver’s bandage to reveal the infected wound underneath.

💉 Inject a painkiller into the receiver’s arm.

🏹 Yank an arrow out of the receiver’s shoulder with a swift pull.

🪢 Wrap a makeshift tourniquet around the receiver’s thigh.

🔥 Cauterize the receiver’s wound with a hot blade.

🩸 Smear the receiver’s blood across their cheek.

🦴 Snap the receiver’s dislocated shoulder back into place.

🪡 Carefully stitch the receiver's wound with steady hands.

🔫 Press the barrel of a gun against the receiver’s fresh bullet wound.

😴 Carry the unconscious receiver somewhere safe after a brutal fight.

🫳 Trace fingers along the receiver’s old scars.

💥 Slam the receiver into the ground hard enough to crack a rib.

🔪 Drag the tip of a knife slowly across the receiver’s forearm.

🩹 Apply pressure to the deep slash on the receiver’s abdomen.

🦵 Kick the receiver while they’re down.

🫦 Wipe blood from the receiver’s split lip with a rough thumb.

🔄 Twist the knife embedded in the receiver’s shoulder.

🧑‍⚕️ Lay the receiver on a operating table under harsh light.

🪏 Dig fingers into the receiver’s wound to retrieve a bullet fragment.

✂️ Clean and cut dried blood from the receiver’s matted hair.

👊 Punch the receiver to give them a black eye.

🧊 Hold ice against the receiver’s swollen face until it numbs.

🧼 Help the receiver shower / bathe after they get hurt.

[ingenieurlumina]

Gustave pinches the bridge of his nose as he watches Celia - her expression brightening despite herself and he could only hope that it didn't blow up in their faces. Literally.

It wasn't that he didn't think it had potential, nor that it couldn't be made a practical weapon. But testing of dangerous inventions was best done somewhere they had medical care - doctors that could patch you up. Not with the cobbled group of survivors they had left from the attack on the beach.

"We could always go to the cliffside." Gustave wasn't keen to return to the beach where so many had been slaughtered, but they could go to a nearby area and just try it out on the rocks there. "I feel as if Esquie might take offense to us using his rocks for that."

[shadowatmorning]

"I said simple; he can keep his florries and such, but even among treasures, some collect items of a more plain nature..." Still, Esquie was quite attached, and Celia would rather avoid upsetting the large creature altogether... and Gustave did have a point about the dangers.

reluctance is heavy in the sigh she exhales, a hand raising to tuck several strands of hair that had made their way out of her braid back behind her ear.

"The cliffs, or perhaps near the autumn forests?" celia pauses as her mind wanders to the gestral arena, a new train of thought spun and quickly discarded before she can speak it. "somewhere with space would be best, I imagine, along with some barriers to hide behind."

[shadowatmorning]

friendly reminder that I do kinda rely on likes to see if people have seen their threads, and lately I've been worrying about notifs, so please double check the page in case you might have missed a recent reply!! <3

[primitiaxorsa]

Each breath feels like iron against his lungs, his lips twisted into an all too sure cocky grin, though the pressure of her own cool blade against him is enough to make that grin widen. She was clever, he'll give her that much at least.

The closeness of Celia to where he stands wavers the thoughts roiling through his mind. She was the priority target. They never said she was priority target marked dead though. Who's to say he can't have a little fun before closing the case?

A low groan curls up from the depths of his throat, backing away from where they had been standing, grip loose around the handle of his knife -- not daring to be unarmed around her. He sighs heavily as dark hues drift up to where she stands just out of reach, brows furrowed heavily -- glaring at her as that ever persistent smirk stays curled over lips. "Dirty?"

He can only seem to chuckle as he finally straightens to keep himself between her and that gun. "Dirty isn't the word I would use for that. More... Childish."

[shadowatmorning]

he groans with the strike and she exhales a breath carefully held, eyes narrowing as Celia considers the man. she hardly cares what labels he may lay upon her methods; if they worked, then they were sufficient.

"whatever it takes." a slight lilt in her voice accompanies the twinkle of some suppressed amusement in her eyes, even focused as they are upon the tension of his stance. she keeps her center of gravity carefully low, easily contained that no outliers might prompt reaction. every twitch of muscle deliberate as Celia measures the space between them. no route seems apparent yet, provocation continuing in hopes of some mistake being made.

"ironic to hear you call it such, however - considering you run your mouth like a toddler."

[shadowatmorning]

i really don't need to think about what Celia's decayed paintress form would look like, and yet--

[shadowatmorning]

i am nothing if not a sucker for knight / dark sorceress celia

[monenblogi]

“You’re--actually interested?” And yes, that definitely was a bit of disbelief, and for good reason. It wasn’t like the outside was generally.... acceptable of necromancy to say the least. Was Celia about to regret this? 

Nels was already hoping not. 

“Well the easiest way I can describe it is that it’s a lot like looking onto the reflections of a lake. Much of the basic principles when it comes to necromancy are similar: in that the memories that the spirits leave behind are just reflections of things that have happened and in rare cases things that will happen. Things that are but aren’t.” There’s a pause as they look up, pointing out a glint that looked like it was having trouble recognizing a wall. 

“Here they’re quite old reflections, many trying to retrace steps to a Lighthouse that used to exist in the past.” 

[shadowatmorning]

loathe though she was to admit it, Celia was interested - yet her eyes rolled, head shaking slightly as she quietly laughed. still, no interruption came, and she watched their explanation with a slightly arched brow.

"like echoes, then - but unbound to space as it is now." it made about as much sense as most magic she had learned about - confusing and intangible, often beyond the reach of her own abilities. while Celia could reach out to grasp the essence of the physical, magic bound to tissue and blood, long practice had left her out of touch with most else.

"and the similarity to vessel tending is in those echoes?"

[treerie]

(txt - celia ☠️) any reason you're interested in ridiculous names?

(txt - celia ☠️) i wish i had a ridiculous name. i wish i was a superhero 😭

(txt - celia ☠️) i've not watched casablanca, and i've always had a crush on the phantom growing up - what does that say about me?

ramona is genuinely curious, yet worried.

[shadowatmorning]

[ sms: ramona ] to win an argument.

[ sms: ramona ] give yourself a callname, it's free

[ sms: ramona ] it says you have a thing for masks

[ sms: ramona ] more reason to make a callname. take up vigilantehood

[precheor]

𝚄𝚋𝚒 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚜

𝙳𝚎𝚞𝚜 𝙸𝚋𝚒 𝙴𝚜𝚝

𝙰 𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢 𝙾𝚏: The Optimism of Post-Apocalypses, Change, Rebirth, The Jungian Concept of Nigredo, Grit, and Humanity Growing Up

[angelicguy]

my wife posting "the feminine urge to get divorced" the day after we get married

[shadowatmorning]

What's Inside Her Pockets?

a key to her home

a small stack of folded bills totaling less than $75 in her pants pocket

a small, rolled stack of bills hidden in a compartment of her boot heel

A small sketchbook and pencil

A swiss army tool

a lockpick set

at least 3 combat knives

Tagged by: @ingenieurlumina - thanks! Tagging: @biohvzvrd (for Claire & Gigi), @archaeval / @sanguinisa , @primitiaxorsa (Will & Mercy) and you!

[shadowatmorning]

ruin's intimidation factor?

1 (the least intimidating)

2

3

4

5 (the most intimidating)

ruin button

Voting ended onJun 7

[biohvzvrd]

Excella can't believe she actually sent that text. She nearly sends another saying to ignore it, which would only speak more to not wanting to be alone; she considers not replying at all, but that could bring about the same result but with a different kind of concern. Why did she have to say anything? Why did her moment of late night loneliness make her do anything other than read, watch TV, or just keep trying to sleep?

For a long moment, she stares at that simple reply she'd received in response, and though it is difficult to convey tone or urgency in text, there is something about the single word that tells her that Celia is serious. Excella has done so much wrong to so many people, and yet Celia still finds it in her to respond to Excella feeling lonely to ask where she is.

[ txt : Celia ] Home. It is alright, you don't have to come.

There aren't many places she could be right now, but with her newer freedom to stay in her lab later, watched over by the night shift security, the 'where' is a fair question. The cafe in the BSAA compound, her lab, home. It's different than the limited freedom she had before, and she has worked hard to get it. Many still haven't forgiven her - she never expects forgiveness, only vies to work for it - but she has become a familiar face to many now, and they at least treat her as if she is a person and not chewed gum on the bottom of their shoe.

Still not quite enough to not be lonely existing among many, however.

[shadowatmorning]

It does not take long to put together a simple but appropriate outfit for the weather: a plain tank top beneath her leather jacket and a pair of jeans that had seen more years than Celia could count offhand. a brief moment peering through the blinds makes it clear that despite the cold, rain was unlikely - skies are clear enough, grey clouds sparse but still blocking most of the moon's light.

when she returns to her phone to check the text, a slight furrow in her brow, Celia responds simply.

[ txt ] on the way

although she maintains a dedicated shelf in the closet at the front door for her motorcycle helmet, it is from the tabletop that she retrieves it, tucking the sleek, dark-visored headgear under her arm. Celia slips out of her apartment once heavy boots are pulled on, door and deadbolt locked behind her. the building's parking garage was exclusive to residents, a fact for which she was grateful - moving through the slowly-opening gate was easy enough, and a trick of her receiver halted the motion once she was through; barely a click of a button to return the gate to closed.

[shadowatmorning]

new icon for pride, really it's just a slight change but <3 this is your yearly pride reminder that celia is demi aroace!

[sanguinisa]

Her heart jumped to her throat, and she swallowed hard. Celia's hand was almost small compared to hers, but so warm against her skin. Nan wasn't sure what to do at first, but she wanted desperately for Celia to understand that she understood this wasn't something to be taken lightly. That she knew Celia wasn't the sort of person to let others into her life easily.

"I'm glad I got to meet you," she says, but it doesn't feel right. The words are too small to encompass what she meant. "That you ... you're you. We'd all be dead ten times over without you, probably." No, that wasn't right either. It wasn't about the others. "You're amazing. Even if I remembered anything, I know I never met anyone like you, or would care about them half as much."

It was coming out wrong, all of it. Nan frowned, trying to find some way to say what she meant, how she felt. "I don't know if I'm making any sense, but you're important to me, too. More than I know how to say."

[shadowatmorning]

she laughs softly as Nan seems to stumble across the various versions of what she wants to say, none seeming to fit properly, and squeezing the hand in her own in some attempt at reassurance.

"you make enough sense, but even if you did not... you are very cute when flustered." her faint smile is warm, amusement and affection held in her gaze. "I fear how our endeavor might have progressed without you as well, and not only for our survival..." Celia leans against Nan easily, resting some of her weight against the larger woman.

"I do not care where you came from or what your past is - who you are now, what we have... it matters more than anything else, and I cannot imagine that changing anytime soon."