#v:poststream

[luxnosvocat]

❝ look at him…posing like he’s all important. ❞ (for cassandra, because they deserve to talk shit about the other nobles)

twilight princess starters | @sinaethen

“Mm. Considering his city still hasn’t recovered from its economic collapse, I do feel it was a bit rich to call ours ‘dilapidated.’“ That Vex’ahlia had chosen to bring Cassandra along to Emon (as opposed to Percival,) had been less trouble than she’d feared. In fact, Cassandra could even admit she was having fun. She tilted her head slightly. “It does feel like he’s compensating for something.”

[luxnosvocat]

"You will live as you live in any world…with difficulty, and grief." (mom friend su @ cass, sncwfated here)

deathless ♚ sentence meme | @sncwfated

Cassandra pressed her lips together, looking back out at the glittering expanse of sea before them. Narnian spring was bright and lively -- a stark contrast to the wet, green-grey springs of Whitestone. Everything in Narnia was colorful and bursting with life, and there had already been times on this visit where Cassandra had just felt exhausted by it, looking at a joy that she could not, no matter how she tried, keep up with. Perhaps she was merely too empty for Narnia; she could not fill herself up with either the sunshine or the hope that permeated the air, as the Narnians had.

Queen Susan was the only one who had seemed to notice, and she had pulled Cassandra away for some quietness on the beach, with only the two of them and the sea. The sand was a strange sensation between her fingers and the sky was such a bright blue it looked like a bolt of fabric, but it still felt like a reprieve, nevertheless. 

It was in this moment that Cassandra remembered Susan had been friends with Vesper, once. Susan reminded her of Vesper, and Cassandra let out a heavy breath. The waves rolled in and out against the shore with a sound like the wind through leaves. “Sometimes I think I can live with that... but then the next day I find that no, I’m not happy with that at all.” Cassandra looked at Susan with a slight smile, but one that spoke more of wryness than anything else. “That would be the ‘difficulty’ of it, I suppose.”

[luxnosvocat]

"I have learned to watch everything die." (sonya @ cass, sncwfated again)

deathless ♚ sentence meme | @sncwfated

They were walking away from the city, back towards the castle on the hill, and Cassandra looked up at the grey stones of Whitestone Castle, glazed with drizzly rain that couldn’t decide whether it still wanted to be snow or not. It was springtime, and the Parchwood was awakening again, green underfoot slowly peeking out. 

Sonya was ostensibly walking with her so that they could finalize plans for the building of an orphanage – thankfully a small building, but large enough to get the job done. Percival had already looked it over, made many adjustments (Cassandra had learned to just let him have his way in terms of engineering unless anything attracted her notice as particularly unnecessary, which would then be promptly shot down), and given it his seal of approval, and so once Sonya agreed it was ready, Cassandra would present it to the Chamber the next day. 

There had been a minor fire in the town the other day – a lantern had fallen into a hay bed and set a warehouse alight, nothing that hadn’t been sorted quickly, but still the smell of wet smoke had permeated the streets. No one had been seriously hurt, and the damage was already being rebuilt. Still, Sonya had a look on her face that Cassandra had guessed was connected, in some way, to that.

Despite being, ostensibly, friends, their friendship was still mostly a silent one. Cassandra glanced over at the older woman as they walked out of the corner of her eye, her head held carefully forward. She took in a deep breath and exhaled deliberately. “I think that’s just the way of things,” she said, and her voice was a touch wry, a touch tired.

[luxnosvocat]

Her movements are slow, mindful even to prevent from scaring her husband as he works at the desk before him. Sliding behind him, her arms slide over his shoulders, chin resting on the top of his head. Vex eyes the paperwork for a moment; letters to builders for aid in projects, sketches of ideas not fully ready. Percy's stayed busy today...but the sun set hours ago and it's terribly late. "Darling, come to bed," she says in a low voice, tired herself, "You need sleep; we all do." !!!

PERCIVAL | @sinaethen

There was a problem with the building plans for the retort bench; heat was somehow escaping instead of being recuperated for combustion, which rendered the entire gasworks useless, and made the plans to find a more effective way to light Whitestone essentially pipe dreams, and it was frustrating him. The problem should be fixable. He was certain it was. But he’d been over the plans a hundred times by now, drafted them himself with the builders, and he couldn’t find the flaw... 

They would have to be started over, which would waste so much time. Though if he couldn’t find the problem now, he would likely just replicate it in these further plans, and so Percival had practically stormed up to the library to ransack it for the few books on architecture within (and that was another thing to fix, the library would have to be rebuilt, as it never fully had been after the occupation, what with all the refugees from Emon and the.... well, everything after. Sourcing books to replace what had been would be impossible, but he had to try, at the very least to keep the empty bookshelves from glaring down at him) and had retreated to his workshop for the rest of the day, as luncheon and dinner eventually passed him by. 

The logical part of him could recognize the growing restlessness within him that had bottled itself up into a sort of mania over the past few weeks. He knew that the restlessness was symptomatic of something else, ugly shadows rearing their heads again as Winter’s Crest drew closer and closer. Yet Percival didn’t know how to unpack any of that, really. Oh, he’d gotten better about dealing with it, that was true, and he knew that, but yet as the anniversary approached (and wasn’t that a horrible word for it, as if a slaughter was something to be celebrated) he couldn’t help but feel like he’d taken steps backwards. Things he thought he’d processed sank their claws into him again, and so he took to the workbench and the forge, determined to make something out of it.

The door clicked open, and he’d barely registered it until Vex placed her arms on his shoulders, and his pencil stilled for a moment. Her chin rested in his hair and Percy could tell she’d been outdoors today; he could smell pine and then, underneath that, that vague sort of wind-scent, that freshness of sorts. His shoulders were unbearably tense, he realized. “What time is it?” Percy asked, staring at the plans before him, his own voice grating lower than he meant it to be. His mouth was incredibly dry; he’d forgotten to drink anything for what must’ve been at least a few hours.

[luxnosvocat]

CASSANDRA | starter for @sapphiretrickster​

Cassandra was too experienced by now to openly pinch the bridge of her nose, but she was planning on doing so once she reached the privacy of her own study. “In the future, please refrain from painting genitalia on the temple to Pelor or the Sun Tree, even if it is hidden on the back wall. And if complaints reach me from businesses or homeowners about more graffiti, I will be unable to let you off with another warning. Am I understood?”

[luxnosvocat]

@gloriouslygood | 010. a letter for a friend

Castle Whitestone, Whitestone

18 Quen’pillar 813

Shaun Gilmore

c/o Gilmore’s Glorious Goods

Abdar’s Promenade

Emon, Kingdom of Tal’dorei

My dear friend,

Your letter of the 2nd was happily received only a few days ago -- the courier said something about “the blasted mountains” while he thought I was out of earshot, but he, or at least the courier system at large, still seems to have made admirable time. A good sign, I think, that things are slowly starting to repair themselves across the continent.

Speaking of which, I’m very glad to hear that rebuilding of your shop is going well, even if it is slowly. Are you having any trouble rebuilding your stocks or finding employees? Refugees are still slowly moving from Whitestone back to their homes, and I would be happy to vet some of them and provide letters of reference, if it would help at all. (I also understand if this is a matter you’d like to undertake by yourself; I recall how much the shop personally means to you.)

Rebuilding here is finally starting to move at a less throttled pace; we never really recovered from the occupation, what with the attacks all over Tal’dorei right on the heels of the liberation. It’s so lovely to be able to walk the streets and see people out and about, and smiling besides. Homes are finally starting to be repaired, and businesses are reopening. Last week, I even saw one of the stalls in the square around the Sun Tree open and operating, selling game from the Parchwood. I can only hope this encourages others. The Chamber of Whitestone is doing its best to encourage those who had moved outside the city walls to return.

It is a strange thing, as well, to walk into a full Chamber of Whitestone -- even Vex’ahlia has apparently developed a voracious appetite for politics? I can’t help but be a little suspicious, but I’ll accept her apparently-benign enthusiasm as long as it gets things done. My brother has started undertaking some grand project to find some way of centrally heating the streets, as well as undergoing repairs to the buildings in town. The idea is that it’ll keep the snow off the streets, keeping them from having to be swept in the winter. (To be honest, I’m not sure half the council listens when he really gets going on that subject. I’m almost certain I caught Commander Howarth doodling on a piece of scrap parchment at one point.) But again, as long as he’s being helpful, I don’t mind. 

I know you’re very busy, but if you’re able, I’d love to hear the news from Emon. Having gotten to know so many of its citizens while you all were here makes me wonder how you are all getting along. Please, in particular, pass on my greetings to Arcanist Allura. 

I’ve also enclosed a pair of mittens, knitted for you -- while I know Emon rarely gets nearly as cold as it does here, it’s not a bad thing to prepare for the possibility. And if you ever decide to visit again, your hands should hopefully remain warm.

I remain yours sincerely,

Lady Cassandra Johanna &c. de Rolo

[luxnosvocat]

“not bad looking? he’s damnably handsome.” vex @ cass (maybe talking about a suitor??)

the grisha trilogy sentences, pt 3 (ruin & rising). | @wildtenacity

“Mm, I can see that,” Cassandra said neutrally, accepting a glass of wine from a footman, looking up to see the man in question -- some noble out of Wildemount -- making amiable-looking conversation with a member of Whitestone’s council. “I just think I hardly have the time to be entertaining any suitors, let alone the interest. And he’s only interested in me because Percival is both unavailable and unable to bear children, and because Whitestone seems a good entrance-point to the rest of the continent.” She took a long sip of her wine, letting the taste linger in her mouth for a moment before swallowing. “I’d already spoken to him before the night started in earnest. He’s very transparent. It’s a little shameful, honestly.” 

[luxnosvocat]

PERCIVAL | starter for @wildtenacity, for Vex

Even the heavy curtains of Castle Whitestone couldn’t fully muffle the summer sunlight, and Percy shifted, screwing his eyes against the morning until flopping over to face Vex’s side of the bed, his eyes blinking open slowly. He’d slept hard and, mercy of mercies, he’d even managed to get away without dreaming, and so it took him a few moments to register that Vex, in fact, was not lying in bed next to him.

Percy bolted upright then, covers tangling around his legs as he scrabbled for his spectacles on the nightstand and shoved them onto his face. It must be relatively late in the morning, then, if Vex was already up and gone, and he probably should’ve been awake a few hours ago -- 

But then he realized that she was sitting in a chair on the other side of the room, hands resting on her swollen stomach, and, as he squinted through eyes still somewhat fuzzy with sleep, he realized she was trying to hide a smile.