#perdiciuns

[vicarlunares]

juno, a girl of twelve with all of the complexities and intricacies of a preteen girl, addressed the sigilite without looking at him, eyes focused on the intricate black and gold configuration in her hands. “why?” she { @perdiciuns } asked, turning the gears until it clicked in place, whirring. "why is grandsire the way he is?”

Of all rumored immortals ( perpetuals, they had donned with conceit, how presumptuous ), the Sigillite presented forth as the only one with any fondness && maternal patience for children. Primarchian children, no less, alongside the Primarchs themselves. His smile is tempered with wise adoration over whittled youth; an austere middle-age hewn with both a lifetime of priestly mirth && scholarly exhaustion.

" You ask a question that has passed through many mouths, yet heard by way fewer ears. " Malcador's honeyed locks twist over his shoulder before spilling over the burgundy drape concealing his lithe body, released from the trappings of his lowered hood. A halo, far less magnificent than that of the master, dims above his crown.

" Come, take a seat," he gestures towards a chair appropriately sized for Laymen such as them — a touch tall for a child but it will do," tell me what it is you actually want to know and I might provide some insight to it. "

[vicarlunares]

"please, ser, please?" aegon { @perdiciuns } implored. "won't you consider taking me on as your squire?"

Had it truly been so long? Lifting his head from where it bowed, sagging off his shoulders in a prayer to no God, Brynden lines his gaze towards the scrawny boy beckoning for his favor. Ironic how he could observe Maekar's severe expression now, buried beneath the pubescent fat of Aegon's cheeks, glowering at him from the distance of souls.

" You think me so wise and honorable to do so? " he smiled thin, restrained by the stretch of his concerns hindering a good mood to reach him.

For a fleeting second, a crackling flame bothers the edge of his perception. Its heat feasts over the dry land, claiming every greedy inch to boil and render into ash. It came as a roar, louder, angrier than any lion, shrieking its maddened orison from beyond the horizon, where even a peasant's pavilion might hear. Brynden exhales firm into the Autumn air, freeing his mind from the scrolls of dragon song into the sharp cuts of bird thrills harmonizing above them.

" I am a cruel knight to please, hasn't your father told you? " The teasing came naturally again when the haunt of ghosts no longer frayed him," lousy with a sword too. So much so, they plucked the steel from my hands and told me to make peace from the sidelines. " Dark Sister sat rightly comfortable on his belt, tucked under an elbow from where he sat, yet his bow carried the pride of his artillery, somehow.

[vicarlunares]

7. NOTP for your muse? 15. What do you look for in a rp partner? 20. How do you overcome writer's block?

Munday questions

NOTP for your muse?

I honestly don't know. I can't think of any off of the top of my head, but I am also not really a shipper/ship seeking, even for fanfic.

What do you look for in a rp partner?

My requirements are low. I can sustain without having to talk to another mun at all and I usually approach it this way because I'm not someone who can hold conversation OOC. But, I would prefer equal effort given in return, at least, equal enthusiasm in what we write together ( whether it be in reply frequency or detail ).

How do you overcome writer's block?

I don't have any advice. I just write through it and it usually goes away.

[vicarlunares]

sapphire eyes peered up at fulgrim. "nuncle." juno { @perdiciuns } said, soft and sweet, holding up her sketchbook as she rose onto her tippy toes. "i want to draw you. please?"

" Draw me? " A soft whispering, fleeting as the Spring's breeze and just as delicate, would escape anyone's ears, but never Fulgrim's. Fixated on an impressive contrapposto of own, the draw of his hand across the canvas was a practiced gesture guided by a thousand masters manifested into one form. There lived no artistry more perfect in the Golden Expanse, perhaps, not even . . .

The Phoenician was a flicker of motion too quick for human perception now kneeling down against the black granite tiles; a marblesque masterpiece towering over Juno's petite height. A satin-gloved hand smooths over the round of her head, capturing silken locks in their wake into a collection woven over his fingers.

" My dear, I would have no other honor. "

[vicarlunares]

" When we go back, I shall be fortunate to snatch an hour with you, for everyone in the realm will want a piece of you, " said @perdiciuns

" Consider yourself of affluent quality for I shall grant you the precious opportunity of my time this evening, Miss Draik, " Fulgrim says, his long stride coming to a graceful stop in his warpath through the winding corridor.

The grand crescendo of ebullient strings blending into quality woodwinds crest the edges of his excellent hearing; a symphony spilling into the antechamber halls from the yawning chasm of the main floor. The Phoenician had disappeared into this quiet room, briefly, seeking respite from royal sycophants seeking favors whenever a chance for his rare attention should present itself to them.

For a time, he had considered himself alone. Peering over the vanity, he measures the symmetry of his cream cravat, picking and pulling at the satin until even the wrinkles sat uniform in an accordion fold, tucked away into the fold of his frock coat. The rest of him remains as it was, Fulgrim's dwindling frustration tamed by minor adjustments, and thankfully leaving the rest of his outfit unbothered by his meddling.

By the time he had left out the door and travel over glassy marble top, he is met by this young mistress of House Draik— should his memory served well ( and most often it did — without any semblance of failure ). For whatever she wanted of, he could only assume, and for his sanity, he can only hope it was not the usual lot the rest rankled him for.

The Phoenician extends out his hand in an act of gallantry towards the Terran noble, capturing her lithe fingers over the hook of one of his own, and kneels to meet the cupid's bow of his lips near the knuckles.

" I was beginning to think you wouldn't show. After all, I believe I've seen everyone of your house but you. "