#sempiternxs

[des-vanecido]

Solo somos

vestigios de lo que

alguna vez fué un cuerpo celeste.

-Dorian A.[Fallstar]-

[melancholxa]

X (sempiternxs)

Send me X and I’ll make a 10 song playlist

First Meeting: everything but mine; backstreet boys ( omg accurate )

First Kiss: fix you; coldplay ( n o p e )

First Sexual Encounter: russian roulette; rihanna

First Dance: forever and for always; shania twain ( i didn't even know i had so many cheesy songs on this ipod )

Last Words: before the dawn; evanescence ( no PE )

Funeral Song: incomplete; backstreet boys ( i guess my ipod really ships them help )

Afterlife Song: to the sky; owl city

Rebirth Song: hey jude; the beatles

Our Favorite Memory: el tango de roxanne; moulin rouge ost ( i'm GoNAN SEt myS elF On f iR e Om G )

Driving Song: in her eyes; josh groban ( ugh no help )

[melancholxa]

My Life had stood -- a Loaded Gun -- In Corners -- till a Day The Owner passed -- identified -- And carried Me away --

And now We roam in Sovreign Woods -- And now We hunt the Doe -- And every time I speak for Him The Mountains straight reply --

And do I smile, such cordial light Opon the Valley glow -- It is as a Vesuvian face Had let its pleasure through --

And when at Night -- Our good Day done -- I guard My Master's Head -- 'Tis better than the Eider Duck's Deep Pillow -- to have shared --

To foe of His -- I'm deadly foe -- None stir the second time -- On whom I lay a Yellow Eye -- Or an emphatic Thumb --

Though I than He -- may longer live He longer must -- than I -- For I have but the power to kill, Without -- the power to die --

                                 ------- Emily Dickinson

[melancholxa]

praeditus replied to your post “oh god guys how are we gonna keep track of a thread that’s between...”

{{ How about the person who replies lets the next person in line know that it's their turn?

[ oh yeah that's ---- a good idea |D bloop derp ~

[melancholxa]

α ѕoul αt τhe " ωнιτє нєατ " -----

                        " It is so good that this fair is held in your town this year.                                                                    It's been too long. "

          " Aye. Three years nearly now, isn't it? "

                              " July of '24, it was I last laid eyes on you. You have                                    been well, I trust? You look to be in good health. "

           A modest September breeze settles about the leaves dangling high above the two companions' heads, the rustle of foliage long lost admist the rustle and hubbub of festival merriment. Around them scamper people here and there, from one decorated stall to the next. Children weave between the legs of their mothers, some perched atop the broad shoulders of their fathers, giggling excitedly at hand-crafted toys.

           The celebration of the harvest is not often set in Leicester, but generally many miles south, in the heart of the kingdom. But in recent years, political unrest, stirred by the inklings of the king and his tense ties with the Church, have forced the festivities elsewhere.

           The two young men pause mid stride to let a stray street dog race by, clutching a piece of meat in his weathered jaws, before continuing on their way. Both gentlemen are clearly of noble blood -- one, Aubrey Talbot, is the honorary son of the Earl of Northumberland, wiry and dark-haired and with a semi-constant limp to his step from a riding accident when he'd been a boy. The other, taller by a few inches, with a naturally pale complexion and hair black as ink that falls in finely arranged waves to the nape of his neck, is one Mathias Villiers -- our Edenic Adam of centuries later . His father, the Marquess of this town of Leicester, is somewhere else within the enormous crowd spanning miles along dirt and cobbled streets packed to the houses with festival-goers.

           Both young men look to be in their early twenties, at the first fresh bud of prime and youth. Both are arrayed splendidly, doublets of fine silk overlaying shirts of highest quality cloth. Thin jerkins of velvet, the sleeves slashed to reveal the vibrant richness beneath, cover their torsos, spanning down to clean, newly tailored trousers and polished boots. A hat settles atop both heads, of different designs but both fringed with an elegant ivory dusting of feathers about the rim. Purple and silver attend the majority of Northumberland's attire, whereas Leicester is adorned largely in black and scarlet, gold cutting at the edges of his doublet.

                                 " You know who is due to arrive any hour now? "

           Intrigue alights on Mathias's angled features as he turns to regard his friend curiously, who holds off with a knowing smile before replying.

                                       " Your sweet Lady Sybil, of course. "

           Intrigue fades to acknowledgment as Mathias turns his gaze back forwards with a nod. " Mmh, is that so? It will be good to see her. " They speak of the fair Lady Sybil, daughter to the esteemed Duke of Suffolk. Her name carries with it a tie to such high noble prestige that the Marquess Leicester had been fortunate enough to be promised, by tying his eldest son with Suffolk's daughter, a betrothal already approved by the king.

                                                 " How is she? Do you know? "

      " I have only spoken with her but twice in total. I barely know               her disposition. "

                                 Aubrey shrugs. " That's not uncommon; at any rate it                                       is a fabulous match. Now, what say you to a                                       game of Tables? I'll have you know I've improved                                       in three years ------- "

[melancholxa]

sempiternxs replied to your post “|| suddenly having a bout of insecurity about my muse and his...”

at least you're like following your muse rather than enforcing sexuality where you don't see it fitting just for the sake of satisfying a ship, yk? like idk the important thing is 2 stay tru to the character (......then again also im eve)

|| lol UR NOT ALLOWED TO TALK ADAM WILL DO THE FRICK FRACK WITH EVE WHENEVER SHE WANTS haha no jk i know you're right and anyway even if i wanted i don't think there's even a way i could force him e.e he's just SO averse to the idea i'm just concerned there are people who would back out cause they want the smut idk ;;

[melancholxa]

ff+ xoxo eve

Send me “ff+” and a character name and my character will react to finding and reading a graphic and sex-filled fanfiction of themselves and that character.

           It wasn’t often Adam ventured on the internet, and even rarer that he did anything else on it but listen to Youtube videos of old artists he’d used to appreciate. But somehow today he’d found himself on a website of writings, some of which ———————                                            were not so PG.

           By chance, he’d stumbled upon a story, surprisingly of himself and Eve; curiosity led him to click the link before really glancing at the summary.

                                 He soon regretted that.

           As he read what he realized was r e a l l y explicit material, his inward monologue fluctuated between shock, horror, confusion, and maybe                  just maybe —————                                   a little bit of arousal.

           He didn’t read to the end. He couldn’t possibly bring himself to. Cheeks still tinged faintly rose, he brusquely shut his laptop, taking a moment to simply stare at the opposing wall, disbelieving of what he’d just seen. Then, after a few ticking moments, he cleared his throat, calming himself as he rose to get his blood supply from the cabinet.

                                                 The truth was —————-                                 he and Eve had done so much more than                                                                  what these zombies were aware of.

[melancholxa]

✑ -- Something my muse has written about your muse. ( Could be a letter, drawing, etc. )

|| aksjdhakjsd you nutcase this is supposed to be for rp starters xD

March 20th, 2013 ——-

      You loved dates more than I did, Eve. I guess that’s why I dated this, not that it makes much of a difference, really.

                              I had to ask Ian for the date; you know how it                   stopped mattering to me after what ——- a century?

      There’s not much point to this letter. Not that there has to be. I just felt like writing                        something                  i guess.

      You know, Dickinson used to write letters. Hundreds of them. To the strangest people. Most of her poems were part of letters she wrote — to friends, family. You loved Dickinson. Remember how amazed those zombies in Amherst were when you showed them your first edition? They almost confiscated it.

                              ——————- Eve, I got my hands on an Airline Twin Tone the other day, one of those Eastwood makes. It came with the cable, straps, the tuner, everything —                                                          it’s fantastic.

      I’ve taken a long time to write, I know. But you —

                              your voice came to me last night and I couldn’t help it. I know you like to distract me, Eve, but please ———                                                 this is a little too much.

      When it stops snowing (snow is late this year. The zombies and their carbon emissions are fucking up the planet worse than ever), I’ll go visit you again. I planted asphodels around you some years ago and they’re doing nicely. I knew you would like those.

                                                Your own ——————                                                         Adam