#poisonpocket

[anastcsie-archived]

@princeandrci liked the sc but is getting a thing for monty instead

    She’s been trying for at least ten minutes to put the star on the top of this tree in her grandmother’s villa. Even with the ladder that had been brought out at her request, she still wasn’t tall enough to reach it. Nona was out for the day and wouldn’t be back until that night, which gave her and her lover the run of the villa. Normally, they would have just left this to the servants of the house and gone upstairs to her room, but the boxes were out and she wasn’t able to resist putting up everything she possibly could as a surprise for her grandmother. 

     But of course, now she can’t reach the top of the tree, no matter how hard she reaches, and she doesn’t even want to stretch too far towards the tree, lest she fall off the ladder and into it and bring the whole thing down, effectively ruining everything that she was trying to accomplish. So, she had no choice but to reluctantly as for some help. 

     “Monty!” She yelled, and waited a few seconds for an answer. When she didn’t get one, she just decided to continue yelling her question until he came to help. “I -- I need some help or a boost or something! Anything, really! I can’t... quite... reach the top of the tree and the star is the last thing that has to go on it before I move to the mantelpiece...! Some help would be appreciated, darling!”

[intoxicatiing]

@poisonpocket, continued from ⚜ :

“ oh, it’s hard to say. ” it most certainly is not, and she will ( will! ) definitely suit this lovely desk far better than the paperwork that litters it, that cannot even hold his attention for the shortest amounts of time, no matter how hard he tries. it’s boring, and it takes an awful lot of effort, and monty has never been particularly good at completing tasks the involve any level ofboredom or hard work. he’d prefer to have things done for him; to not do paperwork and let someone else get to it, and instead to respond to what he sees as a rather clear advance —- an invitation for an activity that is far more exciting than his property taxes.

he places down his pen and leans back to look up at her, his smile quite wicked. “ i think i should only give an opinion on how good you look on my desk once i’ve seen it. would it really be a fair ruling otherwise? ”

She offered a most wicked and wolfish smirk that promised nothing moral or virtuous. With hands clasped delicately in front of her cinched waist, and the most deliberate strut, Ruby moved to stand before Monty’s desk. She bent forward to shift one of his folders aside, so he might better admire her curves, and so she might catch a glimpse at the work he was tending to. No matter how menial, it would be of interest to her master. But it was nothing terribly incriminating, so she stood upright once more to turn to the side and perch herself neatly on the edge of his desk, just barely resting on it, teasing.

“Does this help the comparison?” Of course, this was hardly enough to warrant any answer but no, so she shifted more, pulling her skirts up just so, to rest one calf fully on the desk, pulling on the fabric so he might see its lovely shape underneath. “Or how about this? Is that quite enough for you?” He would have to work, just a bit more, to get her to lie down flat.

[maitretmaitresse]

         @poisonpocket from x

         She couldn’t help but laugh at his logic – she had been one of those who, having assumed he was a gentleman, had vaguely attempted to blend in and impress him with sentiments she did not share. However, Monty was of the same mind as she was, and the sounds of raucous laughter and screams of vague terror reminded her of home. His hand was not only allowed to take hers, but taken in earnest. Her fingers laced through his gloved one, jumping up to her feet like the doxy she was so frequently called by her scorned ex-lovers, and she took to the cobblestones.

                     “Wouldn’t’ve pinned ya’s a philosopher, sir,” she chirped coquettishly. Her eyes darted from stand to stand which lined the street – she wasn’t one much for Mardi Gras on a general basis, since she hadn’t taken Lent vows for three years, but it did make it far easier to show enthusiasm for an outing she hadn’t initially been pleased with. She knew that stealing filled her family’s bellies, not to mention her own, but she’d already been out on the job four times that week! Why couldn’t Amelie or Bernard manage it for once?

                      “But let’s take it!”

[anastcsie-archived]

@poisonpocket -- lyric sc that they didn’t like but is getting one anyway    ( sonya alone -- the gr.eat com.et )

     “I know you’ve forgotten me. I know you so well, my friend. I know you might just throw yourself over, but I won’t let you -- I won’t let you!”

[anastcsie-archived]

@poisonpocket -- continued from here

    It had seemed as though ever since Monty came into her life, there had been less and less worry about the dreams she would have once she closed her eyes and if they would be of happier memories or of her time in captivity with the rest of her family before the ambush. But tonight had been one of them, and while she had thought that she had woken without stirring him in the bed next to her  ( she knew he left early the next day and that he needed his rest )  she had barely been able to sleep since. All she could think about was how she couldn’t have at least dragged Alexei with her, how if she had made it he could have to, and then at least she wouldn’t be all alone anymore. 

    Because even with her grandmother and Lily and Monty and Vlad, she still was just that -- ALONE. 

    She didn’t even register what she had said aloud until the kisses are pressed to her skin. “It’s... it’s eleven years this week.” She had been trying not to think about it so as not to soil Monty’s visit, but now with him leaving in the morning, the thoughts couldn’t help but creep into her head. “I can’t just... go home and visit their graves. I don’t even know if they were given graves. For all I know, they were just... tossed aside. Like they were nothing.” At that, she turns over to face Monty -- and though she’s trying to keep a brave face, to have that same fury she always does, the beginnings of tears in her eyes give her away. 

    “Perhaps it’s in the past for you. But for me, it’s every day, especially this week. An entire family, gone in an instant. Alexei was a month shy of fourteen, Monty. He was a child. And they shot him, shot all of them, for having the wrong name.”

[anastcsie-archived]

@poisonpocket -- continued from here

     Anya is teasing, as always -- the Neva isn’t dangerous, she was a regular there most nights. She was able to be amongst her people without her grandmother looming over her shoulder. But there would undoubtedly be questions about who the handsome man she walks in with was. She chuckles at Monty’s panic. It seems wrong of her, but she can’t help it. 

    “The only reason we would need to have any sort of escape plan is if the Neva was raided for some absurd reason. Which it won’t be. This isn’t Petersburg. Now, darling, do you trust me or not?” She’s grateful for the cover of night that’s camouflaging them, especially with her bulky dark coat that’s covering the... less discreet dress underneath. “You haven’t lived until you’ve been there.”

[anastcsie-archived]

@poisonpocket ---- im living for them rn 

    Anastasia is glad that she is not facing the window as she normally does, for the sun would have stirred her and taken her out of such a blissful moment, of the feel of her dear, sweet and secret lover in bed next to her, pressing such small kisses to her neck and the back of her shoulders. She has half a mind to keep her eyes closed, pretend she is still asleep, so that he might continue. So that what had begun last night need not end so fast.

    The small manor was in the French countryside, another one of her grandmothers holdings that Anya was free to use when she needed to escape the city, and escape she had, for if she were found in bed with a man who was married -- happily so, or so it seemed -- she could only imagine the names she would be called. The things said about her. The disgrace she would bring to the memory of her family. But this place was far enough removed for her and Monty to be together, if only for a night or two, and her servants were all bound by confidentiality to their Grand Duchess.

     When she finally does open her eyes and blink the sleep away, she notices the clock on her bedside table. Not even seven yet. She stretches as subtly as she can, trying to shake away the remnants of the most comfortable sleep she’s had in what feels like forever. “Haven’t you ever heard of the term beauty sleep, Monty?” She asks with the slightest yawn before turning herself over to face him, take in every aspect of this moment before they must go their separate ways. “We were up... rather late last night.”

[anastcsie-archived]

@poisonpocket -- can’t stop, won’t stop

     He tries to take her in his arms, and she knows he means to distract her ---- too often, she has fallen for the very same move and she’s never mentioned whatever was being talked about again. But no more. She wouldn’t allow herself that distraction, not until a straight answer was received. “You say you aren’t ashamed, and yet you seem to hate the very idea of my coming to you. Don’t you think people will become slightly suspicious of your constant comings and goings across the channel?”

     She steps back, making her stance clear as she can. “I hate not being able to be public with... with whatever this is as much as you do, you know that. But I will not be told what to do, not without you giving me a reasonable answer as to why I can’t go to England but you can come to France whenever you fancy it.”