#tapantarhei

[musikleiter-blog]

@tapantarhei || x

It can always get worse. You haven’t been under Ottoman rule.

Well-- yes, that would be terrible, but that’s stretching it a bit, don’t you think...?

[terradisirene]

@tapantarhei

From here

[Text: Olivo] mine always pulls shit like that

[Text: Olivo] Giorgio’s staring at me like the little asshole he is

[Text: Olivo] i think he wants to play and Ersillia’s next to me, want a picture?

[pearlsacrossmycollarbones-blog]

@tapantarhei

Angélique was usually much more of a social butterfly. 

Galas and venues were her scene. She’d dress up in her pretty designer dresses and flutter around, hogging attention here and there- But no, not here, not this time. Not at an event that celebrated the Ancients- That celebrated her neglectful, rancid, unworthy Mother. 

Alas, who was she to refuse an invitation from the archeologists’ guild as they had graciously requested her presence in Rome, along with others- The sons of Rome, Cathage, children of Mother Greece, heirs to past glories when she was reminded that she was but the runt of the litter. 

She was too pale, too blonde, too frail to be worthy of respect or dignity. Ridiculous, pathetic brat that she was, undeserving of Hellas’ praise- Oh, if that monster of a woman saw her now. 

She looked over the crowd from her spot above them all, a balcony to another balcony, different plateaus connected by steps, lined with antique vases and decorative shubberies and elegant couches for the guests to rest and chatter, sipping from their wine glasses and lying through their teeth.

The venue was all too lovely for an event like this. She wanted to go back to her hotel room immediately. 

She stayed far enough from the rest, expecting to be left alone as a thin cigarette dangled from between her delicate fingers.  Exhaling pale grey smoke, she tensed up- She wanted to be alone on the balcony but of course she wouldn’t be given the luxury. Footsteps behind her dragged her from her solace though she didn’t grace the intruder with the honour of seeing her face. Her back still turned to the man, she spoke up, her saccharine voice tainted with the cold tone she used for him.

“What business do you have with me, Herakles? Don’t you have better things to do tonight?”

[saudade-digest]

@tapantarhei from here

"The sun is shining and there's not a single grey cloud in the sky. It's only natural that I find myself in a good mood." Joaquim replies with a faint curve of his lips, though good mood is a bit of an understatement as the Iberian is feeling exceptionally jovial today. For no reason in particular. A hand dips into his pocket a retrieves a metallic lighter, to which he ignites the opposing end of his cigarette and murmurs around the filter.

"Figured I'd send these good vibes your way."

[liachtaschta]

@tapantarhei

Now this is a small lady he quite likes. She’s delicate, graceful and well-mannered, and her natural serenity and kindness are qualities he greatly prizes. So it is with a faint but genuine smile that he receives her affectionate gesture, loops an arm around her petite frame and invites her closer, to enjoy the warmth he naturally emanates. She reminds him of a cat, and as such he has to hold back from picking her up like one.

“Hello, Ludmila. You’ve been well?”

If one were to question her sudden impulse to hug Herakles, it would be easy enough to admit that he looked the type that would welcome a hug as a greeting -- there were not many that she could say that about. Though her size forces her to look up at him, she returns his smile with a small one of her own. 

       ❝ I have been yes! I should hope to assume the same of you yes?❞

[musikleiter-blog]

@tapantarhei replied to your post: "I wonder if the glasses are for style or...

“Ah. So your eyesight really is bad?”

“Ah-- well... no, but regardless, they still serve a purpose of sorts.”

[terradisirene]

@tapantarhei

Romano had heard the news about the quake soon after it occurred and after wrestling with himself for a few days decided that yes he would drop by to check how Herakles was doing. Normally he’d call, but Romano didn’t know how to phrase his concern or his desire to come over without feeling terribly awkward so he just went. By now he was standing on the other nation’s door and for a moment he hesitated before knocking on it three times.

 “Oi, oi! Um, uh...it’s Romano. I just wanted to see if you were in there...and maybe see how you are.” At that moment it occurred to him Herakles might not even be home at  the moment, and his concern and worry grew slightly at the thought. He knew what it was like when such disasters occurred and though it hadn’t been as bad as it could of been it didn’t stop his worry for Herakles and his people, and not only that but what if he didn’t want help or visitors?

[pearlsacrossmycollarbones-blog]

this is Herakles, Angélique, and Zinon respectively and you cannot tell me otherwise

@tapantarhei @perikallis