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@stasism-blog
i am here, after disappearing for years. if anyone’s interested in interacting with me again, the said blog will serve as a writing blog that adds verses according to what people would like to roleplay with me in, verse-wise! if anyone’s interested in writing with vampire / werewolf / shadowhunter character, i’m planning to make one of those, so hit me up if you’re interested!
teeny tiny starter call?
on the other end of the wishbone is @efflorese, as jane volturi.
on his mind is a barricade of thoughts, making him feel like he’s in a trance similar to that of sleeping adrift. the rem state that he’s missed for a century is the stigmata that he’s kept for so long, accompanying him in reveries like this. he doesn’t feel like atoning for his mind tonight, letting it wander as the static city spread before him nods along with the silent lullaby. volterra tastes like an aftermath of a war that he’s never fought, dreamed precisely as it is supposed to be. it is almost like a second home, and it could have been. as the volturi once considered him, he could have been a strong candidate for their army of guards. his gift could have been honed better, faster. stronger. and the only crevasse between him and that status has always been one and only: the olympics, to whom he’s pledged his loyalty to. and sometimes, he wonders if it’s wisdom. wonders if it’s not.
the deed is done. decision made, but here he is, sitting on an edge of the sienna stoned barrister, watching the city in a lone stance of wistful penance. it still feels like home, somehow. still feels that the olympics’ diet doesn’t fit him all that well after all those decades, their preemptive apprehension sometimes cannot be helped. he shouldn’t really swerve his thoughts that way. it pinpricks, still, for no matter how hard he’s tried, he’s still shamed by the idea of losing control, haunting his every second with them. so, in the silence contained by this air, he lets all those control loose, the atmospheric white noise the affirmation that he’s somewhat safe. not that he often feels fears. he’s strong enough as he is of a predator. the cognitive dissonance, however, is what tricks him into believing that he’s standing on a precarious balance, a tightrope that spans between him and his family.
when the swarming launch of another’s thoughts swims into his scope, his own thoughts rescinded themselves. she notices his presence with no difficulties, and he knows that she knows she’s always welcome when it comes to intruding his personal space. jane is one of the rare instances of people besides his family that he doesn’t mind. in fact, he’s always been fascinated by her abilities — mentally, physically. and as the volturi might have left it unsaid, he can perhaps train his telepathic strengths that way: to whisk illusions, maybe more of hypnotic tendencies. he can be one of them has he wished so, which is a strong statement. but alas, they weren’t the ones saving him, and there are some limits edward doesn’t cross. she draws closer, her footfalls resonate only in his mind. she’s never covert, in a sense. her presence, even with such a small stature, often imposes. even more so when she’s being in charge, but this time it’s not the case. he waits for her to approach him fully, strides closing the distance between them. “can’t sleep?” he asks, dryly jesting. he blocks her thoughts out of courtesy, as usual to maintain a taste of real interactions exchanged between them.
because the sunset, like survival, exists only on the verge of its own disappearing. to be gorgeous, you must first be seen, but to be seen allows you to be hunted. ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ edward cullen, an independent account.
on canon divergence: pt. i.
he exists pre-twilight when it comes to the storyline, so everything is a blank slate for him and he hasn’t known bella. he has amplified bad traits, with the tendency to stalk people he’s curious about, mining thoughts from their minds before leaving them after he’s grown bored. intrusive by nature. can be territorial and predatory. doesn’t sparkle under the sun, though. it just bothers him standing under the sun because it’s prickly.
turned in 1920, thus making him forever young at 19. basic is still the same with carlisle changing him, but he had a longer period of rebellion, an over two-decade stretch of feeding on humans — believing he served justice, but in fact, he just knew it was for his satisfaction also — until he returned to the olympic coven. the start was in 1927, and he returned in 1950s. with its being a more recent happening, he had the instincts honed. faster, and has always been street-smart.
the blood lust is what his coven is cautious about, side by side with jasper. he’s shown better restraints in the last couple of years, but his fundamental for the personality in essence is that he’s not there to make his family get in trouble. perhaps also why he trained the restraints in the first place. not as good of a person compared to his canon counterpart. he is vile, manipulative, but fiercely loyal to whom he’s pledged his loyalty to, which in this case is his family and his family only.
i’m sorry for the bottomless void you’ve stumbled upon on this blog because i’m just getting the party started! i’ll be posting headcanons as well as other things after school, including his about and what divergences i’ve made because i’m not canon-compliant at all. if you’d like to start / plot something, please click the heart button and i’ll come to you! alternatively, i can be found on discord at PIKA PIKA!#1420 so feel free to find me there!
One of my drawings from last weeks drawing studio
Say surrender. Say alabaster. Switchblade. Honeysuckle. Goldenrod. Say autumn. Say autumn despite the green in your eyes. Beauty despite daylight. Say you’d kill for it. Unbreakable dawn mounting in your throat. My thrashing beneath you like a sparrow stunned with falling.
Ocean Vuong, from “On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous,” Poetry (December 2014)
