𝕋𝔼𝕏𝕋 𝕋𝕆: 𝖘𝖔𝖋𝖘 🤶
brooks: what the fuck happened?? you needed an ambulance??
brooks: if you were that fucked up why didn't you TELL somebody
brooks: christ sofie what the hell is going on with you?
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𝕋𝔼𝕏𝕋 𝕋𝕆: 𝖘𝖔𝖋𝖘 🤶
brooks: what the fuck happened?? you needed an ambulance??
brooks: if you were that fucked up why didn't you TELL somebody
brooks: christ sofie what the hell is going on with you?
𝖔𝖚𝖙𝖌𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖊𝖝𝖙 : 🍌🥑
brooks : you happy with yourself yet ?
𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖚𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖊, 𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: 𝓈𝑜𝒻𝒾𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓂𝑒𝒹𝒶.
𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 to remain sober for the event ( or , at least , not pissed drunk ) , someone had offered a trip to the washroom to engage in some questionable decisions leading to the current high buzzing in her brain . she felt good , for once , & despite not winning the award she was nominated for , she was content . that was , until she received a lengthy message from her ex , excusing herself to the side of the room as she sped - read through the message , then once again slowly over the second half . a frown creased delicate features , unsure whether to be angry at the context of the message , or , hopefully , at brooks’ attempt at a joke . either way , nimble fingers quickly typed up & sent a response : are you joking ? i can’t tell if you’re joking . you better be . you’re such a fucking coward sending this over text , what’s wrong with you ? @soflsms
𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 this can go one of two ways-- either sofie doesn’t care ( which, thinking about it now, probably doesn’t have a single chance in HELL of being realistic ), or she does and this is about to go very, very poorly. it’s the fact that his phone buzzes not even two minutes after he’s sent the initial text that clues him into this situation definitely being the latter, and he makes sure to spare a distracted laugh at the conversation around him so he doesn’t draw any unwarranted attention to himself as his thumbs type out a quick reply. not a joke . i can come find you if you want , but there’s no need to make this a bigger deal than it is .
𝚂𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚎.
𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐒
name: sofie lippens date of birth / date of death: october 13th, 1969 / october 23rd, 1996 birthplace: beernem, belgium residence: bruges, belgium pronouns: she/her sexuality: asexual positive: optimistic, kind, capable, easy-going, appreciative negative: meek, nervous, melancholic, private, obsessive likes: karaoke, good notebooks and fountain pens, long train rides dislikes: being babysitted, the opera, not being allowed any pets
sofie was working at a law firm at the time of her turning, where her talents were heavily unappreciated. loïc is the one who turned her, seeing in her not only a great potential for the clan's seach for truth, but also the clan's need for her kind and soft nature.
sofie met timothy during the clan's nightly hunt, having run into him with the intention of feeding on him - but finding his prescence much too enjoyable to waste it on sustenance. the two kept meeting up and soon something blossomed - not love, not like the things she saw so often come to be between two persons, but certainly something she had not felt before.
after tim had his accident, she came to loïc in despair, begging him to show her how vampires are made so she might have more time with him. ("you will curse him." "i don't care! any curse is worth one more moment in his prescence!") eventually loïc yielded, turning tim himself, but breaking one of the clan's core rules while doing so.
it came at a high price: tim was killed and loïc was banished from the clan. sofie has been withdrawn and quiet ever since, but dutifully continues the clan's business when summoned. she's often paired with kija, as the two share a great friendship.
@vihilum // sofie said: for girls like us, dying is a part of growing up.
They’re doing weird rituals in the woods — a diminishing bonfire, piles of sticks and vines. Spirit is covered in dirt and probably poison ivy.
“Who do you think is going to get to finally kill me?”
MAY 15TH, 2019 at SWEET CREEK WINERY featuring @sofie-monroe.
“You know what my son told me today? He’s in love. The boy is hardly fifteen years old and he still struggles with getting dressed on his own, I mean appropriately without his pants sagging and his shoe on his right foot, but he’s in love. With the meanest girl in his class, I would assume say.” Here Weston was ranting, but hadn’t he deemed himself in awe of the beautiful yet stern artsy girl that was new in his grade when he approached sixteen years old? He was a little bit of a hypocrite, but it was different when it came to his own kid.” Apparently today she told him he looks like a homeless person, and according to him that is the coolest thing any girl has ever said to him. What on earth have I done wrong with this boy? I’m not ready for a lifetime of having to deal with his bitchy girlfriends.”