#aurorxaeternitatis

[ensuists-moved]

@aurorxaeternitatis ✯ s.c.

❝ I've heard a lot about you, so it's a pleasure to finally meet you in person. I hope you don't mind if we discuss business right now--do you mind if I call you Alexander?? ❞

[dckja]

@aurorxaeternitatis​​  /  sc.

            the parlor is nestled in a small neighborhood  ,  unsuspecting and with a name that’s misleading  .  it’s not large  ,  perhaps able to cater up to a small handful of clients within it  .  it’s not a place someone can just stumble upon  ,  it’s not flashy nor outstanding  .  the storefront seemed to just fit in with the neighborhood aesthetic  .  just from the name  ,  people would think of it to be a small coffee shop or a small stationery store . . . until they walk in to be greeted with artwork on the wall  ,  two tattoo beds in the back behind screens and a simple counter at the front  .             it’s not a place that seemed to hail a lot of clients  ,  people would say it’s BAD marketing but dokja preferred it that way  .  he liked the quiet  ,  he liked the chill atmosphere  .  he didn’t like rowdy clients  --  he’s never been great with confrontation  --  and with the clients he already has  ,  they feed him well  .  that’s all he really needs  .  sometimes a random person would walk in  ,  sometimes it’s people who heard of this place via other clients . . . dokja preferred this lowkey way of advertising  .  he wanted people here because he and sooyoung’s work is worthy to be spoken of  ,  not because they were FLASHY and bright  .             today  ,  dokja is sat at the front counter  ,  minding the store  .  his best friend is out gathering supplies to restock their ink and hygiene items  ,  he’s not really expecting any clients for the day  ;  but  , he still sits at the front  ,  yet his eyes isn’t watching people walking by  ,  rather glued to the book he had opened  ,  absorbed into the novel he has before him  .  that’s the quirky thing about dokja’s parlor . . .              instead of trashy gossip magazines on the coffee table or obnoxious pieces of art decorating the wall  ,  the inside seemed clean  --  almost new  --  and neat  ,  BRIGHT instead of the usual dark associated with downtown parlors  .  an almost coffee shop aesthetic that it’s misleading to many who peer into the store and could only see the front and not the ink beds at the back  .  the wall is lined with bookshelves of various novels  ,  some in foreign languages  ,  but all of them are well worn and very much loved  .  hence the parlor is aptly named THE LIBRARY  .  truthfully  ,  dokja also didn’t mind if someone wanted to drop in and just wanted to select a book to read  ,  it’s why he also decided to add a few more chairs and tables to the front . . . sooyoung had made fun of him for this choice  ,  insinuating that maybe he should hire a barista next  .  the store simply reflected it’s co-owner’s heart . . . a lover of books  ,  a gentle reader with a lot of passion and creativity  .               when the doorbell rings to signal someone entering the shop  ,  dokja’s head lifts from his novel and he’s greeted with a man who seemed . . . out of place  .  not because it’s a gentleman in a SUIT standing in a tattoo parlor  ,  it’s a gentleman in a suit standing in this particular store  .  the question  ‘  are you lost  ??  ’  hangs on the reader’s tongue  ,  but it doesn’t make it past his lips  .  slipping a bookmark into the novel  --  he’s been chewed out about dog earring the pages  --  and shutting it  ,  dokja slips off his stool and offers a smile to the man  .             “  something i can help you with  ,  sir  ??  ”  he asks  ,  the other didn’t seem to be here for a book  ,  but he also didn’t seem the type to get tattoos  --  though perhaps that’s a stereotype that had been ingrained into dokja . . . that businessmen are respectable people that would never do something so outrageous as putting something taboo on their skin  .  ‘  don’t judge a book by it’s cover  ’  ,  he reminds himself  .

[changqwi-aa]

@aurorxaeternitatis​  /  lore sc.

            “  that’s . . . well  ,  not something i’ve heard of  ,  i’ll be honest  ,  ”  arwen says  ,  pondering on the other’s words  ,  “  i’ve been to many places in my travels . . . but i’ve yet to hear of such things  .  are you sure it’s not just a rumor  ??  ”

[zahraalgernon]

@aurorxaeternitatis​ started following

      Loki let out a soft hum, noticing the figure drawing closer into their peripherals. Their steps slowed to a stop and they turned their head just enough to see the figure completely. So familiar, they were sure, it would be foolish to think otherwise, no matter what tricks and otherwise could be said.

      “ You know...I thought I would be the one to be more likely to stalk behind an old friend without saying a word, not you. ”

[umbrx]

🎲 for Aeon one as well

𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 “🎲” (𝐨𝐫 "𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐞") 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 (not accepting anymore!)

➤ an 80s/90s themed mall

The ECCENTRICITY of the place was a perfect fit for someone like him, even if a mall was the LAST place one would find Doflamingo at. Bright neon signs, indoor plants, arcades and the buzzing of people amidst stores almost made him stop to merely OBSERVE. However, his legs carried him forward to Alveare, a vintage shop on the second floor.

CURIOSITY had brought him there, and the clues which were left behind on crime scenes. An unusual mess, a shift in power balance, a new group which wanted to make a name for itself—it was PROMISING. His time in Spain was well spent, but the mess which was unfolding in New York made it clear how the city itself kept constantly adapting and evolving, with or without his presence. ALMOST insulting, were it not as amusing.

Doflamingo went through the clothes while trying to discern which one of the few present people was the one he was looking for. An elderly woman trying on a coat, a young lady looking at vintage dresses with appreciation, a young man trying on fedoras or the older gentleman going through tuxedos.

His eyes caught a large pink coat which seemed to be calling out to him. Upon trying it out, it was clear the coat fit him PERFECTLY. He should buy it.

❝ Question, good sir. ❞ It was the young man with fedoras. ❝ Which one of these fedoras fits me better for a 1930s party? ❞ The man tried out a beige one then changed it with a pearl green one.

❝ Beige, definitely. ❞

❝ You think so? Hmmm... a shame really. I was really digging the green one. Alas! ❞ Doflamingo wasn't sure if it was the manner in which the younger man spoke, the THEATRICS or the glint in his yellowish eyes, but something told him he was the one he was looking for.

❝ You mentioned a 1930s party. Is it a private one or of a larger audience? ❞

❝ Larger audience—naturally, half of the city's been invited. Didn't you hear about it? Rumour has it actual gangsters will be present. Talk about a proper spin on a 1930s party, mwahahaha! ❞ He looked himself in the mirror, adjusted the beige fedora on his head, smiled in triumph.

❝ Most interesting. Who's hosting this large party? ❞

❝ You, of course. Who else knows everyone in this city? ❞

❝ I thought you LESS eccentric from your letters, Lukurra. Now, why should I ever throw such a ridiculous party? ❞

[vitrumbra-a]

" Are you lost by chance? " Carmen had watched the kid go back and forth between the streets, as if in search of something or someone. " Do you need help? " / for Taro

Taro had a habit of doing this. Thinking they saw something just to wander in circles trying to find it. Sometimes they thought it was an injured bird, something like coins, or maybe even they had dropped something. The sharp sound of their heel and toe clicking against the pavement while they looked from for what they were sure they had seen this time. Yet even then, it was nothing.

The high schooler's lips pursed tightly before they let out a low grimace and shook their head. Before their stream of thought could continue, it was cut off by the sound of a voice--was that at them? They turned to look, a blink or two while vibrant violet irises stared Carmen up and down.

" lost? uhh- "

A little laugh, which so soon was followed by their expression falling flat upon their face. The corners of their lips were small, rather close if not downturned.

" no, i'm not lost. "

The paused, then shook their head--shouldn't they say thank you? It was something they would occasionally hear people say, then be brushed off as if it were nothing more than a waste of words, a waste of breath.

" ...thanks for asking. no, i was looking for something. i thought... "

Gaze wandered down and around once more, following scratches in stones and bricks, trying to find it.

" have you seen a black cat anywhere? i was following it, i think. but now i'm not sure. "

[lured-into-wonderland]

Continued from [x] with @aurorxaeternitatis

As he walked towards her, Nunnally almost regretted she asked that particular man - out of all the patrons she could approach in the café - that lovely day. The way he moved. The way he claimed space around him. His every move, every gesture seemed deliberate and planned. And that all was too familiar for her, and had never meant anything good. She was either being told to do something, or forbidden to do something. Always sent to her little corner of the world. (“Oh, come on Nunnally! You’re over it. Don’t let it haunt you!” ) – well, that wasn’t completely true, but at least she was now trying. Trying to escape the role that was assigned to her since her birth. Trying to make her own choices for her life. So, she shouldn’t let her old habits (and demons) haunt her. Otherwise, she’d most likely fail, and failing was not an option (as least not an option she would consider that day).

So, Nunnally smiled back to that stranger as he approached. She watched his skillful hands as they were taking care of her now-so-unwanted heel. He had beautiful and strangely fragile hands. As for a man; she thought. And was skilled. And strong? It didn’t take him too long to make her both shoes matching again, and serving the purpose. He finally spoke. Nunnally was mesmerized by his voice. A myriad of questions appeared in her mind. As mysterious as the man seemed to her before, his voice had only make that feeling stronger. She was almost sure a faint pink found its way onto her cheeks; something that was quite common for her old “self” years ago (but now these years seemed like millennia), but wasn’t really happening recently. Up till now. Nunnally was not sure if she was embarrassed about it, or didn’t really care. It was just an accidental meeting. Probably it wouldn’t even end up with a conversation. And even if it would (and why did she really hope for that to happen?), it wouldn’t change anything. It wasn’t her true self. Just an imagine, an alter-ego she created, so why to bother what a stranger was to think? But surprisingly she did care. 

“Thank you…” – her voice seemed less confident to her than it did before; was she letting her old-self reappearing? But she had hidden that little, naïve and fragile girl deep inside for no-one to hurt her again – “Thank you, that’s so kind of you to help a stranger and want nothing in return.” – her voice now louder, but still laced with some hesitance and with curiosity – “It seems it wasn’t the first heel you had to remove…Are you always being a knight for ladies in need?”

Nunnally was ready to leave when he (surprisingly for her) accepted her invitation. An invitation that wasn’t truly offered to him…? Saying these words, offering him another drink, Nunnally hadn't been sure (although now she was) if she wanted them to share their time. But when the mysterious stranger invited her to stay, she quickly nodded with agreement (perhaps too quick as for her own liking).

“I am glad and yes, I do insist.” – she said, finding them to share a table together – “But you’d have to tell me what drink that was. It’s impossible to guess…for me.” – perhaps a more observant person would know? At least she’d remember for the next time. If there was going to be next time – “Unless you prefer something else?”

Yes, her name. She should now introduce herself. But that unexpectedly became a problem. Should she give him her real name? Nunnally usually wouldn’t. She was more inclined to give the one she used when… Well, when trying to be someone else. Nunnally or Mathilde. Mathilde or Nunnally.

“I am Nunnally.” – her hand reached towards Ghost; she wanted to feel his touch, although she didn’t understand why. She wanted to offer him something real, something genuine, although she didn’t understand why either  – “But you can call me Nun if you wish.” – again a sentence she didn’t understand. Like her lips were speaking before her mind could stop them. She had so many questions, but none of them was suitable to ask.

“I have been observing you for a few moments before I approached you.” – a little confession from her – “You stand out from the patrons of this café.” – as probably she did – “Are you from the city or just visiting?”   

“I quite like this place.” – she added out of the blue, perhaps to keep the conversation going – “I come here quite often. They serve one of the best coffee in this city. Are you a coffee drinker?” – was she revealing more than she intended with these simple sentences?

[tximidity]

@aurorxaeternitatis asked:

Are there television shows Sully has grown up with that he connects to particular memories? Has a fictional character inspired him in any way?

Television was a communal thing in foster care. So up until he had an apartment of his own, he only knew of mainstream shows in Japan. So his favorites are a little more 'basic' than what some will share.

One of his all-time favorites is Sailor Moon. He loved the colors and the fight scenes He was a very quiet, keep-to-himself child, so the loud boisterous nature of all the characters was admired and enjoyed. He has many memories of all the kiddos begging to stay up to see the new release of Sailor Moon episodes, himself sitting in the corner and hoping they'd succeed.

Most inspiring to him in that, and his first two fictional crushes, were Sailor Mercury and Kakeru. Mercury was obvious because of her kindness. She was the first to support anyone in need. But it was a healthy selflessness--which was the charm of Sailor Moon. They still worked upon themselves despite adversity. Kakeru he loved because he was resolute and determined, no matter what people told him. Plus...he sort of has a thing for stubborn attitudes.

Sailor Moon is very inspiring to him. He still collects the manga and tunes in to adaptations of it. Though he was naturally a kind person that cared for others, there was definitely that aspect of 'This is what Sailor Mercury would do' when he was little, as youngin's tend to do.