#v. 001.

[manumerc]

@mandlorianer​

“ well ,  well ,  well . ”     a  smirk  appeared  on  her  face ,  arms  crossing  over  her  chest  as  she  looked  the  man  up  and  down .     “ you  know ,  you’ve  got  quite  the  reputation            even  among  us  NON - bounty  hunters .  now ,  you  can  rest  assured ;  i  have  no  intention  of  turning  you  in ,  but  i’ve  gotta  say ,  i  am  CURIOUS  about  what  happened  to  make  the  entire  guild  turn  against  you . ”

[zireaal-blog]

‘you’re talking about grief.’

meme.

                 it’s a rare, quiet moment that seems far too surreal for the way the ice has cleared and the sun begins to set over the mountains at kaer morhen. for now, she is exhausted. there are aches in every joint, a sharp sting in the side of her rib and a handful more scars that are still unaccounted for.  ( she thinks it must be when she ducked, or when she hauled herself across the courtyard because there’s no way she’ll sit back and watch people she cares about die for her. because of her. )

she expected everything to be better when she found geraIt  –  and she knows it was foolish. naive. she knows now that when she looks back at it  –  hauling herself away from the crones and wading through the bog to find any semblance of safety in velen, then cursing herself with whoreson jr’s supposed help when she breached the gates of novigrad  –  that it’s not enough to just find him again. she knows now that it was something of a childish wish.

         ( they’re not going to stop coming for me. everywhere i go, i bring destruction and pain and hurt and people die because they had the unfortunate luck of meeting me. )

but at the same time, geraIt is here, with his unchanging, stoic quietness that she’s only grown used to and comfortable around.  ( she hears him mostly in the clinks of metal buckles against his shoulders and the soft, quiet padding of steps as he silently approaches her. she won’t run, not anymore, whether it be from geraIt or from the hunt itself. i will no longer watch those i love die because of me. for me. the wild hunt will never stop coming. )

she blinks away at the residual burning of tears in her eyes, and turns over the necklace that sits heavy in her palm. she knows, now, all too well and with a sharp keenness that still hangs over her head like the inevitable she’s been running from, that in war, there are casualties. but a casualty is the slice of metal sliding up the side of her right cheek and carving a deep chunk into her skin, not watching those she loves die for this. it’s not right. it’s not fair, and it’s not  –  

                                       i won’t flee anymore.

     ‘call it what you will, geraIt, but i won’t watch anyone else i love die because of me.’

                   the necklace is turned over once more, and her thumb traces over its face. her mind’s made up  –  she’s sick of running out of time and running into danger. 

[manumerc]

@yunharlaquin​

lyra  was  trained  to  keep  her  eyes  sharp ,  and  so  it  doesn’t  take  long  for  her  gaze  to  find  the  hilt  strapped  to  the  woman’s  side .      “ a  jedi  in these  parts ?  well ,  now  i’ve  seen  it  all . ”     she  pulls  off  her  gloves,  revealing  metallic  fingers  on  one  hand  as  it  reaches  for  a  rag  to  wipe  off  the  other .     “ i  do  hope  that  this  isn’t  a  sign  of  trouble  on  the  way . ”

[wantsflight]

a caller arrives in the form of @amreality.

the oxford estate acts a second home to the bridgerton girl, an escape from thunderous footsteps and roaring voices that come from the full and lively bridgerton family home. SHE ADORES IT, but the peace and quiet of the estate always brought comfort to her worst anxieties. IT'S DIFFERENT NOW to step foot into what once held such comfort that now brings forth the same anxieties she ran from. conrad's gone - off to fetch something or another, sign another document or whatever he does in his free time. that's left the girl with her father, whom she's been avoiding since her left ring finger gained a permanent fixture. guilt weighs heavy on her shoulders for all that has quickly taken over their lives. though, eloise never has been one to keep her mouth shut for too long. "I'M SORRY." it escapes fast, not allowing her brain to catch up for fear it might silence what she needs off her chest. "it was reckless, what we did. sneaking out without a chaperone in a public place, no matter how private it may have seemed to us." heart thumping against the cage of her chest with the difficulty of attempting to maintain eye contact to show the sincerity in her eyes, no matter how uncomfortable it made her. "it's easy to forget what conrad's status is in society. a testament to your upbringing, but it is not an excuse. we should've been more careful, or not even gone at all. WE'RE LUCKY that an easy solution was there for us, but in the same vein, i've taken something from both of us that... while i may know is impossible to have, we now will never truly know. and for that, i am sorry."

[wantsflight]

— a caller arrives in the form of @truepoet.

"THIS IS GETTING ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS." a incredulous huff & puff from the bridgerton girl (though the flush of her cheeks indicate the total and absolute fib that's coming from her lips). it's been weeks of relentless harrassment from both the poet & her husband (a loose term, used only in legality but respected by both parties) over a simple budding friendship between herself & cressida. a bond forming indeed was not her intention, though found along the way from the horrendous year it has been. never did she think whistledown would come after her as she did, believing her to be somewhat of a free thinker herself — learning that she is penelope came at a shock all of its own. her whole world changing in just a matter of weeks... even eloise struggles to catch up with it all.

the last thought on her mind was striking a chord with cressida cowper of all individuals — the walking model of what the ton wants from young women. but she has more to her than that. a willingness to call elosie out on her own falsehoods and hypocrisy is something much needed. any other feelings that absolutely have not may have arrived post immediate connection has nothing to do with her. "while i appreciate your eagerness to find a secret love match for me as you have for yourself, brother, we both know that the likelihood for any lady of the ton — let alone cressida cowper — to harbour feelings such as those are far from the truth. NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING FROM MY OWN SIDE, to be clear."

[manumerc]

@dmiurgo​

“ you  look  a  little   LOST , ”     she  said ,  looking  the  boy  up  and  down .  he  certainly  didn’t  seem  to  be  from  anywhere  nearby ,  so  she  couldn’t  help  but  be  curious  as  to  what  brought  him  there .    “ need  help  finding  something              or   SOMEONE ? ”

[manumerc]

@unpray​

“ there  are  many  days  i  think  about  leaving  this  place , ”     she  says ,  her  fingers  tracing  the  edge  her  glass .  she’s  not  sure  why  she’s  speaking  so  candidly  to  a  stranger .  perhaps  she  drank  too  much ;  or  perhaps  there  is  just  something  about  them  that  makes  her  feel  like  she  can  speak  openly .  whatever  it  is ,  she  isn’t  about  to  complain .     “ part  of  me  wants  to  leave ,  but  at  the  same  time ,  this  place  feels . . .  SAFE . ”

[manumerc]

@rebelmade​

“ the  darkness  is  vast  here , ”    she  says  absentmindedly  as  she  glances  out  the  window ,  revealing  the  eternal  night  that  was  dark  side  of  the  planet  gorse .    “ sometimes  i  wonder  why  i  chose  this  planet ;  i  never  thought  i’d  miss  sunlight . ”    she  lets  out  a  sigh ,  taking  a  swig  of  her  drink .     “ what  brings  you  to  a  place  like  this ? ”