#limpidtearsofmeme

[chordsandchaos-blog1]

@limpidtearsofmeme

For once, Roderich isn’t so perturbed by his transformation when he plays. It had been so long since he’d been able to do anything other than just play with one hand that he didn’t so much mind having to look a bit like a beast, as long as he could make music again.

He was seated outside his tent now, violin tucked beneath his chin as he tried a couple of notes for something new he was writing, only to pause and look back at his sheet music. In one moment of pause, he looked up to see Gillian, and he waved in greeting with a light smile. Playing his violin again had clearly put him in a rather good mood.

[twirlingflame-blog]

“Oh, I’m not a princess.” It was after a performance, and Gillian was dressed as Marie.

“You need not be a princess to dance. Now would you kindly aid me in this waltz?” He repeated his request and held out his hand.

[dansklaege]

Walks into the tent, signing. "Something is wrong with me. Fix it." Is a vampire and heals everything that's wrong with him and has never come in needing anything ever.

Markell looked over to the entrance of his tent, frowning when he saw it was Gillian to walk in. “Do you know what’s wrong so I can fix it?” he asked, stepping over so he could get started with what ever the other needed.

[wicked-ones-grin-blog]

Dead-Eye

@limpidtearsofmeme

With his back still towards Gillian, the creature was unable to see that Alistair’s own irritated gaze was gleaming an unusually deep green, his deadly stare only gowing all the more toxic as he sensed something splitting throuh the air towards him. His inner Dullahan may have made it more simple for him to pick up on projectiles, but that wasn’t a guarantee he could dodge it. But that didnt mean he wasnt going to try.

Seeing the edge of his own blade soaring back towards him out of the corner of his eye Alistair lifted his hand in an attempt to stop the knife between his fingers, but luck wasn’t on his side today. Unlike Gillian, Alistair’s body still bled and reacted to pain as a regular human’s would, causing the now livid man to practically growl with a series of painful seethes and low curses as the blade lodged itself into the back of his hand. “Gah! Son of a fuckin’ bitch!”

[tinytundratiger-blog]

“Why are you following me?”

“’Cause I’m waiting for you to say sorry for shaking me around!” Örjan stomped after Gillian, a pout on his face. “It wasn’t very nice!”

[russianfortune-blog]

"This is a wicked game"

“That’s quite the word choice for your dear old home. I wouldn’t quite call it wicked.” He spoke with an almost teasing smile. Of course this place was wicked. What would the place be if he didn’t add a nice wicked element to it? Rainbows and sunshine? “And if you must insist of calling it a game, you better play it well to keep yourself alive.”

[chordsandchaos-blog1]

😡

😡 for my muse to slap yours

“Don’t touch that!” Roderich slapped Gillian’s hand away from his sheet music. “The ink is still drying, you might smudge it.”

[chordsandchaos-blog1]

℠

℠ - Slam my muse against a wall after my muse has been avoiding your muse to ask them what’s going on

Roderich couldn’t deny that he’d been in a bad mood. And of course, being in a bad mood, he didn’t wish to talk about it. But he’d never been the best at masking his emotions. It seemed Gillian had caught on, and he’d been surprised when he’d been asked what was wrong. Roderich had said he was fine and gone about his business. He’d done that a few times, actually.

Perhaps a few times too many, because now he found himself caught in a surprisingly strong grip, back quite forcefully pushed into the wall of one of their setups. Alarmed, glasses knocked a bit askew, Roderich stared at Gillian incredulously. “What on-- just what do you think you’re doing?!”