#askbela

[thebeladimitrescu]

You should kiss her!

“Of course, I will. I kiss my mother on the cheek often because I am a devoted and loving daughter.” And the favorite, take that, Cassandra.

[thebeladimitrescu]

To the Muse, tell us about yourself. Who are you as the oldest of three sisters living in a gothic castle as a vampire?

“Like any eldest sister.” In life, she had been the youngest of her family, but that was a far-off memory. “I am often in charge of cleaning up my sisters’ messes whether that be tending to livestock in the dungeons or delivering a final blow to a maid who is beyond saving.” There was one once who was just barely holding her insides in place, dragging herself along the foyer. It was a mess and completely unnecessary. Over the years Bela had become quite adept at clean decapitations. Bela rolled a shoulder that began to knot at the memory. “I have been called a kill-joy before, which I will take if it means that I am being responsible.”  Her lips pressed together in thought before she continued. “Generally I prefer the subterranean levels of the castle. There I can read, research, experiment, and play my violin in peace... Lately, I have been most interested in playing Chopin’s Nocturne in C-sharp minor, No. 20.”  

[thebeladimitrescu]

Bela, will you watch a movie with me? It’s my favorite movie but I get too scared when watching on my own. Cass would probably scare me on purpose, Dani would laugh because I get scared, but you’re... less mean. 🥺

Bela looked up from washing her sickle, "Unless it is Jane Eyre or Wuthering Heights, I am not particularly interested...." Her tone was dry as she continued, "even if it is either of those two- it is only a maybe."

[thebeladimitrescu]

Bela, you’re smart, and you hopefully won’t lie to me. I learned something today. Something soul crushing. So... people say when they shut their eyes they can see things when they imagine. Like when someone says picture it. That’s... that’s not true, right? That isn’t real? That can’t be real

Bela stopped her trek to the dungeons and considered the question for a moment. “I can’t tell you what others see and do not see, but when I close my eyes I can only see things abstractly. Not literally.”

[thebeladimitrescu]

Conspirators: Do you have a confidante?

“My butterflies, no one else.” She looks up from her notebook, a single eyebrow arched. “For clarification, that is not a pet name for humans one keeps around for....reasons that I do not keep humans around for. They are literally butterflies in glass enclosures that I observe.” She makes a mental note of the pet name “butterfly”, should she ever feel so masochistic as to take a mortal beau. As an academic, the symbolism is amusing to her since - like her butterflies- a human lover could not leave and would eventually die of age or any of the many weaknesses humans possess. Bela would live on to document the grand experiment as success or failure. It is sweet at face value, but upon further analysis sad and grim.

[thebeladimitrescu]

White Chiffon

White Chiffon  - Do you want to get married? Why or why not? ------- The dry sound of her pen scratching across parchment stopped. "That is not an option, so it is not something I leave room within me for wanting.” The scratching sound continues and no further words are spoken.

[thebeladimitrescu]

I saw Jane Eyre in one of your asks and wanted to know what other pieces of literature you enjoy (Poetry included)?

“Ah! A difficult question. When you live as long as I have you rotate through phases- Well, humans do that too, I suppose.” She carefully puts the notes she was writing away and into her desk and out of view. “Currently I am rather enamored with The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier. As for poetry, I am drawn repeatedly to a Spanish poem known in English as 'Don't Go Far Off, Even For a Day' by the poet Pablo Neruda."

[thebeladimitrescu]

Hey Bela, you like jokes. I got some for ya. What are a vampires favorite fruits?

A vampire’s favorite fruits? She was partial to cherries, even though she could not eat them.....and they no longer tasted as pleasantly as they had in life. It was a joke, however, and not a serious question. One corner of her mouth turned preemptively upward, even though the punchline had yet to be delivered.  “I do not know. What is a vampire’s favorite fruit?”