#avariiitia

[mrxna-blog]

avariiitia replied to your post: i am sorta back from my tiny hiatus, but i’m super...

i was just writing a post like this lmao

synergy

[mrxna-blog]

@avariiitia

   Escorted by the two guards who follow at either side, Xander approaches the living quarters of the court. The atmosphere is as uninviting as it’s ever been. He doesn’t look forward to the many future visits he’ll be making to this place, but it’s not as though he has a choice. Any chance he has of getting out for good -- getting back to his daughter, before it’s too late for both of them -- depends solely on how he performs in the eyes of the Princess. He truly couldn’t care less about whatever petty, internal affairs she plans involving him in.

   When they at last reach Felicity’s quarters, one of the guards steps forward to rap his knuckles against the door, announcing Xander’s arrival.

[mrxna-blog]

"my memory is covered in deep, deep snows." [frankenstein v? o.o]

soviet war songs

   “You are more lucky than you think.”

    Xander crouches before Felicity on her bed, cupping her delicate hands in his own, speaking to her as though she were a child. Though her blood flows, it is lukewarm at best; her skin still possesses the clayey coolness of a corpse. in such weather, he would not expect her to sustain her own body heat. For the time being, he has dressed her in thick blankets and furs, fed her warm soup, kept her near the fire.

    The doctor smiles. Even if he wanted to tell Felicity of her past life, there are few details he could give. If he wanted, he could make it up from imagination. Regardless, it isn’t the time.

    “Sometimes, it is good to forget, yes? To have a second chance.”

[mrxna-blog]

@avariiitia

    The noise level of the lounge is to his liking; here, there is no need to raise his voice above the constant drone of the crowd, and he can speak with less discretion. Additionally, the circular shape of the booth adds a sense of privacy between them.

    “I will admit,” Xander begins, doing his best to seem casual -- and what could be more casual than small talk? “This is as far as I have been in this part of town. The noise can be overwhelming for me. Not so bad when it is with company, though.”

[murdercorpse]

[please watch gossip girl it's amazing high class trash with everyone continually screwing each other over]

LMAO i keep hearing about it because my friend loves the show and she just rewatched it and kept making facebook posts

[touchofhell-archive]

avariiitia replied to your post “[ neel is probs gonna go as the ‘red death’ phantom (movie version)...”

BUT THE GIANT SKULL STAGE HEAD WOULD BE SO GOOOD

[ I THOUGHT ABOUT THAT, BUT GIANT SKULL STAGE HEAD + DRUNK/HIGH NEEL WOULD ONLY END BADLY. ] 

[mrxna-blog]

@avariiitia | x

   “I’m not mad.”

   Never mind the irritation creeping into his tone as he repeats it; he’s typically indifferent when assumptions are made about him, but something about Felicity doing it seems to irk him. Makes him want to prove otherwise.

   “---There are things I haven’t told you yet. I want to. But I don’t know where to start.”

[supcrbia-blog]

A simple white envelope - though it's stamped with the Rowe family crest. The letter inside is a single page in perfect cursive. "---Perceval; I know what you said, that it's wrong. But I also know that you like me. It shouldn't matter... and we're cut from the same cloth, aren't we? My deb ball is coming up in a few weeks. I'd love if you could be one of my escorts. I already mentioned your name to Papa. We can share a dance or two... No one will guess that it's anything else. Let me know."

not-so-anonymous love letters

     Percy’s face is flush from the mere sight of the envelope. Before even getting a decent look at it, he knows who it’s from, and what it likely entails. He’s not far off: Felicity’s inviting him, personally. While it’s flattering, he’s caught in the dead-center of a choice: taking her up on her offer, or politely declining. The latter only because he’d rather keep anything (everything) between them hush-hush. Allowing the details of their intimacy waft into the open, even vaguely, could paint him unfavorably in the eyes of the public.

   It’s impossible to make a choice like this, by himself. He needs a strong push in either direction– a driving factor, some detail he may have overlooked that will make or break his final decision. He slides his cellphone from his pocket, scrolling his list of contacts until Felicity’s name appears, then taps to call.