#tragicale

[foulrests-a]

it feels nice, being here with you. (for jane 🥹)

⸙ did it?   jane couldn’t remember the last time someone seemed so genuine in their speech.   most times and worst times the words of another were calculated, or so lizzie liked to remember her kind heart often.   and yet his carried some deep connection that made her teeth be shown as well, a rarity for one so peculiarly shy.   how could it be explained in a way that did not erase her fortunes?   to be the family’s jewel was to be polished to impossible perfection — yet sold so easily, nevermind what feelings laid inside chest like locked butterflies.   thus most stares and whispers were of cruel or curious nature, never too deep and always shallow enough like the stream that ran by their house.   friendships were not welcomed by her mother who adored remembering her role as the oldest,   the prettiest — though in jane’s opinion her sisters were much more lively than she could ever be — and unfortunately, the closest to the sun.

james farrow was an intruder in her life.   a friend of lizzie, of course, for the most outgoing of the sisters carried life in her eyes whilst jane's had the creamy views of the clouds she observed.   she opened the door unknowingly and let him in their state, accepting the book lent though of course she hadn’t noticed it gone.   now they strolled through the fields of the propriety until stopping by the fences of the cows —- and when she asked why he had returned, hoping for the worst answer possible ; another comment on her angelic features or even a sonnet sung out of the blue, he spoke of her company.   and almost dramatically her eyes filled with tears, though she looked away and stared to feed a brown cow some blades of glass.   ❝   truly?   i must admit,   sir,   that i wasn’t expecting you’d return.   people never call for me much.   ❞   was she sounding weepy?   devoid of humor?   eyes remained away, though manner was gentile and soft.      ❝   i’m enjoying it as well.   the day is beautiful, and you are revigorating as my sister has said.   ❞   spring had arrived.

[eueclid]

your people love you. / cardan <3

How rich. He glances at the other over his goblet before he takes a drink, gulping down about a quarter of the liquid in it before he even thinks about speaking. The new title of the High King of Faerie still weighed on him, and it felt like half of his people were just waiting for someone else to step in. And maybe they were. He had other things to worry about, namely, a year of control under Jude. “ Really? You should try telling my people that. ” He says rather sarcastically, an eyebrow raised at James before he takes a much smaller drink from his goblet this time. “ I think, perhaps, they were expecting my brother. They might have even been happier with him, too. ” The mulled wine was making him bold, though he has a feeling he won't necessarily find this to be a good thing. “ And what do you think? Were you hoping for Dain to take the throne? ”

[vipier-a]

" you're bleeding. "

TRISTAN POSSESSED A CONSCIOUS AWARENESS THAT, TO THE REST OF THE WORLD, THE REALITIES OF HIS LIFE WERE UNFATHOMABLE. that didn't, however, stop him being utterly exasperated every time somebody acted as such. then again, tristan had never excelled in the art of patience and never truly endeavored to make an effort to understand the perspective of others. to do so would inhibit him in his work – although he knew perfectly well that wouldn't make a difference. even were he not bound to his profession, tris was perfectly aware he would distance himself from others anyway, ambitiously. he'd regarded the other man with such impatience for this very reason, for as paltry a time as he'd looked in his direction. never mind that the wine cellar in which he found himself – below the first home he'd stumbled upon when he realized he wouldn't last much longer on his feet – probably belonged to @tragicale. the man with the weapons in these situations ( read: him ) in the end, was usually correct by default anyway.

" you don't say. " his voice remained remarkably flat, given the circumstances, as he focused on running the end of a needle through the flame of his lighter without so much as glancing at james again. reaching into his wrinkled ziplock bag of supplies for his fishing line, he unspooled it and ripped a piece off with his teeth, tied a knot in the end, then fed it through the needle's end with the precision of somebody who did it daily. " if stating the fucking obvious were an olympic sport, you'd probably win a gold medal. congratulations. " without flinching, he removed the cloth pressed to his abdomen, now properly doused in sickeningly dark red. a pause, then, before tris frowned, sighed, and dumped the remainder of the mini-bar bottle of vodka over the open wound. he'd hoped to drink that. his voice remained remarkably steady as he began to stitch. this wasn't his first rodeo, after all. " now, unless you're planning to prove to me you know your shapes and colors real good, too, fuck off and let me work. "

bloody prompts. accepting.

[nohound-archive]

@tragicale's : james farrow, sent a meme, from the prompt here ! for, seph mccauley.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ" when was the last time you actually got some rest? "

IT'S HARD TO FORGET THAT FEELING: LIKE YOU CAN'T DIE FAST ENOUGH ! it was only a dream back then- when he was still a kid- and then it wasn't anymore. and though it's been years since . . . seph can't find himself free of it; gregory still has his talons in joseph, even long after the boy had rid this world of the former headmaster.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ " ... i'd rather not answer that. "

he says with a smile, all barebones, and weathered by a lack of sleep. it's always around this time of year that seph's nightmares come back, the ones that gregory forced into his mind years ago, that despite his demise . . . return with the anniversary of jason's death.

[wovetalesarc]

when   it   came   to   doing   anything   adventurous   or   different   ,   gillian   was   always   the   one   ready   to   take   the first  leap.   the   youngest   owens   sister   had   been   trying   to   escape   the   dreariness   of   her   old   ,   massachusetts   town for as long as she can remember   ,   doing   anything   that   could   remotely   entertain   her   or   distract   her   from   her   less   than   adventurous   life.   the   moment   she   turned   eighteen   ,   she   ran   off   with   a   man   she   barely   knew   ,   but   once   that   romance   ended   ,   she   continued   to   travel   from   state   to   state   ,   having   no   interest   in   returning   to   the   home   where   her   aunts   &   her   sister   still   remained.   oh   ,   how   she   wished   sally   would   have   joined   her   ━━   no   doubt   the   two   of   them   would   have   had   a   blast   trying   new   things   &   enjoying   places   that   has   never   once   heard   of   the   owens'   family   name.   unfortunately   ,   sally   was   the   more   practical   of   the   two   sisters   ,   &   she   would   rather   remain   at   home   &   continue   to   try   &   have   a   normal   life   despite   their   upbringing   ,   a   fact   that   gillian   will   never   understand about her sister.   still   ,   they   write   often   &   when   she   told   sally   that   she   would   be   starring   in   a   play   for   the   very   first   time   ,   she   didn't   even believe   her.   her   disbelief   only   made   gillian   smile   all   the   more   ,   determined   to   show   her   sister   just   how   far   she   was   willing   to   try   new   things.

admittedly   ,   gillian   was   terrified   of   being   on   stage.   getting   the   role   in   this   play   happened   almost   completely   out   of   the   blue.   as   she   just   arrived   to   the   city   of   new   york   ,   her   curiosity   brought   her   to   a   walk   -   in   audition   ,   where   she   decided   to   peak   into on a whim.   when   the   director   saw   her   big   ,   fluffy   red   hair poking from behind the door   ,   he   immediately   gave   her   the   role   without   a   second   thought.   gillian   was   shocked   at   his   insistence   ,   though   she   should   have   known   this   would   happen.   men   were   dazzled   by   her   looks   wherever   she   went   &   it   was   only   a   matter   of   time   before   that   bit   of   magic   followed   her   here too.   she   was   nervous   &   worried   she   wouldn't   do   a   good   of   a   job   ,   the   last   time   she   ever   was   on   stage   was   for   a   class   performance   of   the   national   anthem   in   the   eight   grade.   luckily   ,   she's   managed   to   make   friends   with   some   of   her   co   -   stars   who   didn't   seem   to   be   too   bothered   by   her   lack   of   acting   skill , mainly @tragicale , who treated her as another person & not as someone he simply wanted to lure in his bed.   sitting   on   the   edge   of   the   stage   after   practice   ,   gillian   vented   to   james   about   her   worries   ,   which   he   eagerly   attempts   to   soothe.   ❝   of   course   they   will   remember   you   ,   ❞   he   says   with   a   smile   ,   &   gillian   merely   smiles   brightly   ,   knowing   he   meant   it   &   wasn't   just   trying   to   cheer her up.   ❝   really   ?   you   mean   in   a   good   way   ,   right   ?   not   in   the   :   ❛   i'm   going   to   be   terrible   ❜   kind   of   way   ?   ❞   she   laughs   ,   brushing   back   her   hair   as   she   looks   out   to   the   empty   seats.   they   would   be   filled   in   a   few   weeks   time   ;   every   pair   of   eyes   set   on   her   the   moment   she   crosses   the   stage.   she   shivers.   ❝   i   just   don't   want   people   to   think   i'm   treating   this   as   a   game.   i   want   to   honestly   do   my   best   &   put   on   a   good   show.   my   sister   doesn't   even   really   believe   i'm   actually   doing   this.   ❞   she   sighs.   ❝   i   can't   blame   her   though.   i   am   a   bit   spontaneous   when   it   comes   to   my   decision   making.   ❞

[satellitewar-archived]

continuing from here, with @tragicale

they've ensconced themselves within a stranger's bedroom in the large estate, and while it's an odd place to meet, to hide from dizzying confrontation, it does its job fairly well. james conceals buzzy's presence within the room with a few awkward remarks about waiting for a lover, and now they're balancing against them. thank you for not saying anything, buzzy wants to repeat over and over as he loosens his tie, suddenly too tight at his neck. "that's emil carlsson," buzzy spits, giving james's face a quick once-over before he begins wandering the room. it's spacious, standard, nothing too ornate or overly sentimental. buzzy looks out the window and attempts to determine their position within the house. what do they overlook? is that the garden, or the front yard? "he's... an avid antiques collector," the archaeologist goes on, eyes still catapulting around the grass below. "violent sort, actually, though you'd never get that from the way he holds himself. he shot at me once. shot twice at shawky, too; he'll do just about anything to get what he wants, every artifact, every scrap of old coin, every precious metal and bone fragment. his men do nasty work on our dig sites and pull on the laws of the land to get them to bend for him. wants every glass case in house filled with artifacts. if he knew i was here..." back to james, back to where his friend lingers by the door and peers out. "well. you did me a favor, and i thank you. you're a good actor," he adds, patting his friend's shoulder with a wide smile. "should do that for a living." a joke. more smiling. buzzy, too, checks the hall. "yes, let's leave before he comes back. he really... really doesn't like me. and if he finds out you just hid me, he really won't like you, either."

[unsister]

" that looks like it hurts. "

         ❛   afraid it comes with the territory,   mister farrow.   ❜   there are too many opportunities for one to prick themselves upon grey hollow;   the girl herself forgets she too can catch her finger on a barbed edge.   between her teeth are two ball-point pins as her hands were thoroughly occupied with a needle and thread until the blood began to well.   it is with a hiss she further acknowledges the injury.   surveying the damage,   it looked worse than it felt,   which was frequently the case with sewing related wounds.   having already invited enough hazards for the day the pins are removed from her mouth and laid on the wayside.   

         ❛   it's nothing,   just a little sting now there would be real hell to pay if i got blood on this costume.   ❜   she is crouched before the player upon a stool.   a means to diminish her stature so she may survey each hemline and measure for adjustments.   abandoning her perch she sifts through her materials crate until she comes upon a box of bandages.   dressing the punctured skin is second nature to her,   quick work,   there are several plasters on her other hand from prior misgivings.   ❛   i'd have to remake the trousers from scratch when opening night is less than a week away.   i may be here often but costumer is only one of many hats i wear.   ❜   this jesting tone is also typical,   cordial yet revealing nothing.   

         ❛   i don't think you and the rest of your lot could afford my overtime rate.   ❜   as if they were paying her a cent to begin with.  

BLOODY PROMPTS FOR SPOOKY SEASON ˖ ✃ ( accepting !

[walkpathe-arch]

james cleans tk's wound and patches it up

tk stays still,   obedient under the actor's careful ministrations.  a sheepish smile moves his lips up as he follows the finishing touches of his work,  the bandage now firmly in place around his hand.  he truly hadn't meant to start his usual shift at the school dripping blood on the graveled path to the infirmary,  but @tragicale had been nothing but graceful about it.

''  hey,  that wasn't bad,  ''   he says it earnestly,  but casual enough that it doesn't sound condescending.   ''  but i'm afraid your opinion of me must be pretty low now.  ''   not that tk is really worried,  of course,  he is only vaguely embarrassed by the morning's too close meeting with the ground.   ''  um,  can i repay you with anything?  coffee?  ''