#fantomexnoir

[streetwisetemptress]

@fantomexnoir liked for a one-liner (Always accepting)

“Monsieur… I must admit I was rather hypnotized by your music. I must know where you learned to play like that.”

[angexblanc]

"And where have you flitted off to, my dear Christine..."

The second the door had shut, his voice filled the room. Christine sighed softly, glad to hear that gentle, alluring voice. She held her hands together in a prayer, eyes aimed at the top of her mirror where the sculpture of a cherub sat. "Angel," She greeted warmly, yet it was clear how very tired she was, "I'm sorry I was gone all day. I wanted to visit my father, to show him all you've taught me." She paused a moment before gingerly asking, "Is he proud of me?"

[blindedguilt-archived]

3, 12

3. Where did they go to school? Were they a good student? What was their favourite class?

Leonard never went to school, much less had any kind of training in academics. Instead, he was raised by his father who taught (Or rather, tried to teach) him most everything from hunting, to smithing to age old wisdom in the ways of life, values, the forest, and finding one's way around the many magical creatures that dwelled in it.

Even despite his best efforts and much to his parents' frequent frustrations, he was exceptionally slow in picking up any of the skills or crafts they attempted to teach him. He did, however, grow particularly good at remembering and applying any spoken wisdom to the best of his ability, which later resulted in the "Big-brother"-like image he had made not just literally, but figuratively in the eyes of the village as well.

Leonard never exactly looked forward to being taught how to hunt or smith metal, being a stressful atmosphere where he had never particularly taken much pride in his work (At least, if he could get anywhere with it to begin with) grew to be somewhat of a nightmare of his earlier childhood. Instead, he found the time he spent being able to traverse further and further into the woods without any fear or anxiety with the knowledge of how to survive and avoid any potential danger from mushroom circles to even the clutches of red-eyed humans made him feel somewhat at ease.

Before he had grown to know any better and was faced with a life full of anxieties and worries over making the people he had loved proud, knowing with confidence how to survive in the forest and spending his time there always came as a great ease to Leonard as a child - All that could possibly have bested the feeling was that of being able to pass that knowledge to someone else.

12. What were their hobbies? Do they still have any of them?

Growing up, Leonard never took it upon himself to develop many hobbies outside of just simply trying to get by. Most days he spent his time in the shop, working and learning the ways of metal-smithing from his father until he was allowed to be taken by his friends to go play - Time that grew all the more sparse with his age when he became old enough to hunt. Still, Leonard frequently found himself falling behind his friends to be on his own in the forest, as dangerous as it was - Especially earlier on in his friendship. He enjoyed simply being able to lay down in the grass, collect small trinkets like acorns and mushrooms, and even fall right into a deep nap if he knew it was safe enough. Later on he would be caught by a particularly close friend of his, and for a time, the two merely lay and chatted about numerous things - What they wondered the rest of the world was like, different tales and gossip from the village, their future plans from what they'd do with their lives to their wives and children... Until eventually, one or both at a time had drifted off to sleep.

The habit had gradually thinned after making his first kill at the age of 12, and waned even further with the growing emotional turmoil that began to wrack him during his teenage years.

Even after leaving his village, Leonard had once again grown so caught up in the focus of just surviving that he had little time to rest during the day... Though there were times, whether he merely allowed himself the privilege for that day or did it solely to escape his own mind or hunger that he found certain places by the stream, particularly under the shade of a tree, made a perfect resting place.

[elisethetraveller]

🎨

From; Get a drabble!

🎨 Hobby/passion

Crossed-legged, teeth worrying her lip and shoulders hunched up to her ears as nimble fingers led the needle in and out of the fabric Elise watched the scene unfold before her. Branches stretching outwards and upwards, flowers along the hem and coalitions of stars decorating the sleeves. She had been at this for a while. Sniffing, a curse slipped from her lips as she pricked her finger. She had to focus. It didn't help to look around, to gaze across the unending pillows of sand...or was it ash? She had never quite figured it out, but it felt better to call it sand. Ashes implied something had burned. Been destroyed and well...Elise sighed and resumed the embroidering. She would leave again soon. A few more moments. She would have the energy she needed. If she kept busy the time would pass.

Needle resuming the pattern it had stopped, the pale woman sniffed again ignoring the wet spot next to a pale blue flower. Was it just her or had it become less vibrant? Rubbing her cheeks she dried her hands in her pale dress when they came away wet and stood up, leaving the fading fabric behind. She needed to scream. So she did. And once that was done the mage sobbed, nails clawing at her arms. Soon, soon, soon...But how soon? There was nothing to do, she was going crazy. It was all so quiet and empty and–What was that?

Feet slid and legs tumbled over in the sand, her hands digging at brown wood once it was within reach. Laughter broke the silence, light and ever so slightly deranged when she claimed her prize. A viola. When had she brought that here? It didn't matter. Settling in the same posture as before her fingers tried the strings, a note floating into the air. Digging around it didn't take her long to find the bow. Alright... She supposed that now was as good a time as any to learn how to play.

( @fantomexnoir )

[walkingshcdow-a]

|[ [/slides in late with toasted sandwiches] It's been what feels like an eternity since we last wrote with one another but my feelings remain as they did since before and when we started: Incredible person, beautiful characterization of every muse you grab... I could go on and on, but I'd just be repeating what I've already told you so many times now. ♥]|

ANONYMOUSLY TELL ME YOUR HONEST OPINION ABOUT ME. I CAN’T REPLY/COMMENT, JUST PUBLISH.

Likewise, Bri! I will always love you and hold you in the highest regard as a friend, writer, artist, creative mind. You're so kind and so much fun and I miss you dearly. We should get around to writing together soon! I imagine we have stories left in us yet that will rock the RPC. <3 <3 <3

[walkingshcdow-a]

“Sometimes fate plays funny tricks and allows one to settle old scores.” |[Whomever speaks the loudest over this, let 'em at me. I'm overdue on harassing your muses. XD]|

“What scores have you come here to settle?” Finnegan’s pulse quickens and he thinks of crying out so that someone on his staff might hear. He remembers being told he ought to keep a pistol in his study, but stowing it instead in the bedroom, where he always thought he’d be more vulnerable. This stranger is immaculately dressed and well-spoken. Finnegan might have thought this was a business meeting if it wasn’t the dead of night. That surely is the only reason he is afraid... that and the mask. No one with good intentions has a reason to conceal their face so. “Perhaps we can find a way to balance your ledger...”

[ofbeautsandbeasts]

I finally got around to coloring @fantomexnoir’s awesomely frightening sketch of the unmasking scene! I wanted to make it really dynamic, but I may have overdone it 😅

[walkingshcdow-a]

5,9

Belated Munday | Accepting?

5. who is / was your favourite muse of all time to play?

Finnegan! I love this bastard. I actually told you, Bri, this privately before I read the questions you sent me, lol. Finnegan has the most wiggle room - he can be a total dick or made out of spun sugar and everything in between. He loves rarely, but fiercely. He works hard, but knows that he’s insanely privileged. He is hard on others, but he’s harder on himself. He’s smart, he’s powerful, he’s charming, he’s handsome - and he’s a pain in the ass. I love him. 

9. have the types of characters you play changed over the years?

You tell me. XP

I think I’ve begun to gravitate more towards OCs... which is actually where I started? I’ve come full circle. 

I’ve also had a lot of these clowns for five or six years or more, so that’s another thing to consider. I think I play more female muses than I used to, although a few of them never see the light of the dash. 

I think I play less “tortured” muses. I have a few still, but I’m getting to a point where I want to be choosier about where i put the angst. Like a tasteful throw pillow instead of a glitterbomb of angst.