#scmethinginthewater

[jereviendrai]

@scmethinginthewater​ doesn’t understand the concept of private property.

ever since ivan’s first run-in with eve laurier, he had been a bit... jumpy. paranoid. hypervigilant to an extent that most people might have called just a teensy, tiny bit crazy. for months, any small noise in the middle of the night sent him into a panic. nowadays, though? nowadays it only very nearly did. only. nearly.

ivan wasn’t sure what had shattered. all he knew was that it wasn’t a typical night-time noise, it woke him up rather abruptly, and he was dreading checking it out.

at the same time, though, he wasn’t going to just let some weirdo rifle through his shit. was he? fuck no. that wasn’t going to fly with him. not at all. with his feathers sufficiently ruffled, he stealthily dragged himself out of bed and crept toward the source of the noise.

he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but the sight of a silhouette ravenously ransacking his fridge wasn’t... quite what he’d had in mind. for starters, the silhouette wasn’t very... eve-shaped. were it not for his need to be stealthy, he might’ve let out a sigh of relief.

before he knew what he was doing, his fingers had found the light switch. he flicked it upward, the kitchen suddenly illuminated in unnaturally white light.

“what the- the fuck are you doing in my house-?!”

[for-remembrxnce]

Closed starter for: @scmethinginthewater​ (Reyna)

It was better to remain alone, at a distance, to never again let anyone close enough to love them.  Carmilla had spent over a century with this firmly held belief, and yet, for some reason, she had agreed to travel with Reyna anyway.  She fascinated her; she could not look away from her, even though she knew it would be much wiser to break off this little team-up of theirs now, before either one of them could get too attached.  However much she tried to deny it to herself, though, the truth remained that the young runaway managed to carve out a place for herself in Carmilla’s cold, guarded heart.

She did deny it, though, because to accept it would only cause herself more pain than she could bear to face again, whether Reyna felt the same or not (which she certainly did not).  When their hands met, she pulled away.  When she thought Reyna might have caught her looking just a little too long, she averted her eyes.  She had been here before, and she could not do it again.  Rather than dwell on that, therefore, she chose to distract herself with something they could surely both agree on, something there was no need to hide.  “This room is revolting,” she decided, looking around their temporary refuge in displeasure.  “It might be the worst I have ever seen.  We won’t be staying here long, will we?”

[jereviendrai]

"you okay?” Klara for Ivan

“Oh. Hey.” 

Ivan doesn’t sound enthusiastic. Not annoyed either. Not mad, not sad, not... much of anything. His voice is a distant echo, an utterance released on an impulse rather than a genuine attempt at conversation. He’s somewhere else. His eyes are black as coal as he stares off into the distance. A light breeze picks up around them, then settles.

He pats the space on the roof next to himself.

“Wanna sit?”

[jereviendrai]

“There was something on your face, I had to get it off.” (Klara to Ivan)

“Oh.”

Ivan blinked slowly, absently rubbing the corner of his mouth with his knuckles. It was twitching, as was his cheek, as was his eye. A nervous tic that he couldn’t quite get under control. It took him a moment to realize what had just happened, what had almost happened.

He’d flinched. She’d gotten into his space, and he’d flinched. Moreover, his fist lay clenched at his side. His palm smoldered. When he opened his hand, a puff of steam escaped where sweat met fire. Nothing remained except warmth, a tremor. He’d almost... hurt her. He hadn’t quite raised his hand to her, but he was ready.

For a moment, he had forgotten it was her -- had once again, in some fit of dissociation, thought it was him. He laughed. It rang out hollow, though not at all forced. Just hollow. Empty. Nothing. He smiled and forced it to reach his eyes, forced the corners of his eyes to wrinkle just so.

“Y’don’t really know a whole lot about, uh, personal space, do ya? Weirdo.”

[for-remembrxnce]

13 & 14 (Orpheus)

13. how easily would your muse get over a bad breakup?

Orpheus invests everything he has into a relationship, so on the one hand, I could see him having a hard time with it, but on the other hand, he has a very strong sense of meant to be, if that makes sense?  So I feel like with a bad breakup, he would take a week or two to work through his feelings, probably write a bunch of sad songs and poems, but he would be fine, because losing someone to a breakup is very different to losing them to death.  For the relationship to end like that, clearly they did not belong together.  Honestly, though, I struggle to see Orpheus having a bad breakup -- I think he would be the type to stay friends with his exes (though he has not actually been in a relationship with anyone other than Eurydice, and now never will).

14. does your muse usually plan out dates or go with the flow?

For the most part, Orpheus tends to go with the flow, though he probably did try to plan out a few very special dates near the beginning of their relationship, when he really wanted to impress Eurydice, and for certain special occasions.  He is a fairly chill person in general though, so he would not be too bothered if his plan was not going as expected.  As long as they are together, that is all that really matters.

[for-remembrxnce]

what is your muse’s love language? (Orpheus)

Touch is the biggest one with Orpheus, in terms of both giving and receiving.  He is incredibly physically affectionate -- little casual touches, holding hands, cuddling, all of that.  I imagine when he and Eurydice were together, there was very little time when they were not touching in some way.  And then of course, he is a poet, so words are important as well, but I feel like that’s more one way?  He does not need Eurydice to verbally tell him she loves him (though of course it never hurts!), but he cannot resist saying how much he loves her all the time, in every way (poetry, song, casual conversation).