gloriousncss

[gloriousncss]

It was no secret how the Abdul’s were oh-so-clever at pairing themselves to be the righteous in nearly every situation. It made being genuine quite the pain point, yet she could understand where Rostam’s harshness and skepticism came from. For, if she had not already grasped the context of his words, she might have burst into tears on the spot from the sting. “I am on the brink of ruin because of what you believe has been done,” she swallowed hard to shield the weariness of sadness, “I cannot take three steps outside our door without people whispering, questioning if my kindness is a ruse.” And how humiliating it was, their stares burning into her back. “I actually like Kaito-“ she cleared her throat, finger grasping onto the neck of the goblet of water before her. She would surely be ridiculed for breaking the formality, “His majesty… but none of that matters now, as any hope of him trusting he me enough to marry me has gone.” Hope of having some kind of respite from sorrows, leaving this world happier because she had provided for her younger siblings, or even hope of mending the heart torn in two by an Egyptian King, was now at risk of burning to ashes along with her memories.

“I have tried to ease your wounded soul, brother,” there was a slight break in her voice. She was never meant to display such passion, not in this condition, not when each breath was counted. Do not cry, she scolded herself. “I am utterly useless. I cannot utter a single phrase without meeting your scowl and it kills me…” a poor choice of words, perhaps? Though if Dilara’s condition were to, indeed, worsen with the changing of the seasons, then dying with a broken heart may very well be in the cards. “… to see you in such pain.” Yet, in her eyes, a pleasing sadness persisted. Please do not let this be how you remember our last days together. “I simply refuse to believe that revenge is the only remedy.”

the revelations had placed a target on his back. seemingly, his eldest brother had stopped taking his visitation, understandably; if he had murdered his wife, he too, might not wish to look him in the eye either. still, to have both sides of the family that his marriage to khan had created against him now, was the reason that he'd sought solace in the turkish apartments. breaking fast alone was an oddity. it felt as if it were going against everything that it stood for, however, it was what he wished. it's the shrillness in dilara's voice that angers him. "please." rostam scoffs. "save the dramatics for a man more affected by them. my immunity to your impudent nonsense has not weathered during my time in the persian court." the regent's eye-roll holds no fondness like it might've before. "funny, isn't it?" he rounds on her with a grimace. "- how my own sister would find it in herself to be angered by the accusation of blood treason yet finds herself equally as angered by the grief of her brother. neither of which she has ever genuinely inquired about, only made assumption after assumption." the grimace turns into a sharp pain that bolts across his chest. a breath takes it away. "pardon the intrusion - afiyet olsun..."

#💛 ( dilara abdul ) #💛 ( threads ) #( dilara & rostam )

[gloriousncss]

Task 003: Joanna's Relationships

A playlist for Joanna and Reuben (husband) @classiqals

#🏹 ( joanna stuart ) #( joanna & reuben )

[gloriousncss]

@succiducus ( dilara & rostam ) Location: Turkish Apartments, Dining Area Time: Morning

The rain had pounded so incessantly that Dilara hadn't had a minute to think to herself. Each time she sat to get just a bit of respite for the pain, both in her body and in her heart, the pitter patter only ticked in her bones like a need to get up and move. For days, she'd found whomever she could to ease the damage that rumors, or revelations, had caused. She hadn't done much to help, but it didn't hurt either. So much effort for such a small outcome, really. Now that the rain had stopped, Dilara was tired. Breaking her fast in the peace and quiet seemed like the smallest reward she could afford herself. Though, even that was interrupted. At last, she had come face to face with her brother, the culprit of these rumors that caused plans for her betrothal to come to a screeching halt. Kaito was kind, a generous listener... why would he ever choose a family that could ever be accused of such a thing? She would not blame him. Her empathy for a betrothed she may never have only ignited the anger for her brother. "I am aghast," Dilara's words dripped with sarcasm, a visage of who she once was peaking through, "Do not tell me you have come to break your fast with treacherous murderers."

#💛 ( dilara abdul ) #💛 ( threads ) #( dilara & rostam )

[gloriousncss]

"Yes, I-" the lie was caught in her throat, "I have enjoyed painting and drawing for quite some time now. It seems to be one of the world's rare beauties, is it not?" The words sounded foreign, uncomfortable on her tongue, and so, with a still breath, her eyes gently closed, shoulders shrugging down, though she only just now realized how tense she held herself together from the nerves. Defenses were fallen, as much as she wanted to maintain some kind of ruse. It was easy to convince Maximilien that she was nothing more than a rebel, a bandit, a thief with a larger goal in mind. But convincing him she was a royal? Impossible. "I would think it obvious why I had to lie..." she shrugged, "I'm not very good at this..." At being a royal, at pretending to look down upon the world with her nose in the air, at ignoring everything else but what existed in her own bubble. She could not buy the story that the people were a mere concept to consider in one's own glory.

Looking over her shoulder to the opposite of him, she scanned for any listening ears, any gossip mongrels. Keeping secrets these days was a foolish act, with truths seeping through the walls at every turn. "It never did..." she confirmed, looking to the ground as her uncomfortable shoes, "I can hardly run and these corsets are the devil-" Pressing her dark red painted lips closed, it was the only form of restraint she could show to keep herself from confessing everything to him. "It is not to discuss here," she whispered.

There is something to be said for those who remain trapped in your psyche like ghosts, unable to move on from their past lives. Maximilien had collected a few of these people since moving to Paris, and each of them haunted him, walking alongside him as he carried on with his life. Only snapshots of their brief encounters, the people were frozen in time, inelastic, never to be seen again, but their memory held so strongly in his head that he could not let go of them. That, surely, explains the way his breath caught in his chest when he found himself on the other end of the art gallery, staring at one of these ghosts. She was different now, and desperately misaligned with the picture he had of her in his head, but something pulled him towards her regardless. Closing the distance only fed his confusion. The resemblance was uncanny, but the setting was all wrong- like seeing the moon in the sky when the sun was still out. Within moments, Max stood in front of the same painting as she did, but he could not tear his eyes away from her. He began convincing himself it was not her and after a few moments, he gave the idea up, feeling embarrassed that he had worked himself into a frenzy over a vague resemblance, and brought his eyes to the art. 

And then she spoke. Esmeralda- the name caught in his throat as his he turned to face her. She could hide herself in fine fabrics and jewels, but there was a quality to her voice that no amount of refinement could conceal. “You did not tell me you liked art. Though, you clearly kept quite a bit from me.” He blurted suddenly, nearly cutting her off. Narrowing his eyes and sweeping them up and down her gown, he allowed himself a small laugh. His heart was pumping faster than he was used to- both from the surprise of seeing her and the realization that Esmeralda was someone far different than she had led on. “You certainly look like royalty, but it doesn’t suit you.” He mumbled, his voice a bit softer than he intended.

#⚔️ ( maria ortiz ) #⚔️ ( threads ) #( maria & max )

[gloriousncss]

Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift Daydreamin' by Ariana Grande Helpess from Hamilton Ain't No Way by Aretha Franklin (You Drive Me) Crazy by Britney Spears I Wanna Be Bad by Willa Ford I'm Gonna Make You Love Me by Gladys Knight Be Good to Me by Ashely Tisdale

@thenxghtwemxt

#🎀 ( gisela hatzfeld ) #( gisela & elias ) #theopulent.task003

[gloriousncss]

Joanna loved her siblings more dearly than anything in the world, and she loved the Scottish people, as well. A crown on her head, she knew, was the only way to keep them all happy, even if it meant burning a few bridges along the way. It would be difficult for them to come to grips with her overstepping them for the throne, one day, should she choose to reveal her intentions to them. In a perfect world, the people of Scotland would simply call to have Joanna as their queen and they would be obliged to answer. But it would not be that simple, and she refused to kill either of them to get to the end result. It had to be tactical, more careful. The declaration against the French was only the beginning of it. "I do," she answered them, knowing damn well how dangerous of an allegiance that was to be, if Scotland were to believe they were conspiring against their royal family, "That is why I will find a way out of this for you. You must prove your loyalty, publicly, with more than just mere words. If we can prove that you would give anything to protect a Stuart, surely, my father will have to understand." After all, how could the king not put his trust into one who proves to save his youngest daughter? "My husband is growing restless," she explained, "He cares not about concealing our union any longer... perhaps I may distract my father with an even greater scandal than something as little as mere gossip..."

Cailean slumped back down in the King's seat, a quiet sigh leaving their lips. They had been expecting her to scream at them, to throw things, or maybe even order their immediate arrest, but the last thing they had expected was for her to confide in them once more. Her doubts regarding her sister weren't unfounded, no matter how much that truth pained Cailean. They cared about Evelyn, but they knew she was under her father's influence. She had proved as much during their conversation after the accusation. "Aye, she is under his influence. I hate to say it, but I dinnae ken how much we can trust her right now." They tapped their fingers against the wooden arm of the chair as they studied the princess before them. They wanted to see her reaction and know whether she was on their side or if she would blindly follow Evelyn and her father. "Jo'… Your Highness, I need you to understand that I have always cared about you, no matter what has been said about me and whether you believe these accusations or not. I will stand with you and Ruby if you still want me to." Amidst all the lies Cailean had been forced to create while speaking to the royal siblings after their secret had been revealed, that was the truest statement of them all. While they still drew breath, they would be there for her. "But I would be lying if I didn't say I was frightened. Evelyn… She is going to write to your father about me, and I'm sure about Germany too, and when he finds out about these accusations, I don't think I will be here anymore to protect you and your husband."

#🏹 ( joanna stuart ) #🏹 ( threads ) #( joanna & cailean )

[gloriousncss]

@bourgeoning ( severina & isra ) Location: Infirmary Time: Morning

"I am in need of an antidote," Severina announced, eyes scrunched together, entering into the only place where she somehow find an apothecary. There was no need to announce herself, of course, with the adornment of fine clothes and jewels being enough of an announcement in of itself. It was as though she would simply say 'I'm just a big deal' without ever uttering the words. "The travel has made me weary, I am in need of something to keep me alert and awake." The word please would not be in her vocabulary until precise moments.

#🐍 ( severina de santos ) #🐍 ( threads ) #( severina & isra )

[gloriousncss]

@schcmcr ( severina & joaquim ) Location: Severina's Bed Chamber Time: Evening

Most Duchies were not accommodated with an entire apartment space to themselves. Then again, most Duchies were not as generous as Severina when paying off the valets to find a more suitable chamber. It was far enough away to be private, giving her access to whomever she wanted without being snuffed out. She quite fancied the idea of living in the no-man's-land part of Lal Qila. Nobody would ever see her coming or going. Correspondence with her Spanish Prince couldn't be easier, though she would still have to play the part of a spy on his behalf rather than being the one pulling the strings. Still, it would place her conveniently in the laps of the Spanish royals. One did have to wonder just how much of a hold the Ortiz's now had, or should she turn her sights towards a Bonaparte instead? Emerging from the bed, she pulled a silken purple robe from her chair, letting the shine of the fabric against the moonlight adorn her body whilst she pulled the string tight across her waist. "You seem quite spirited for my arrival," she glanced over her shoulder with a wink, "Are you not troubled at all by these rumors, then, of an uprising?" She pulled a silver gilded hairbrush from her night stand as she stood by the window, slowly brushing out her disheveled hair, "I know I wouldn't tolerate anyone questioning my position like that..." She'd simply have them killed... obviously.

#🐍 ( severina de santos ) #🐍 ( threads ) #( severina & joaquim )

[gloriousncss]

@succiducus ( severina & abby ) Location: Corridors by the Dining Hall Time: Afternoon

Emerging from the doors of her apartments, the hem of her dress glided along the stone floors, just inches away from the ground, custom made so that not a speck of dirt would be able to reach, just still making her look like she slithered across the floor. Bathed in an intricate pattern of black and royal purple, Severina was never one to diminish just how rich the De Santos Duchy title made her. Of course, there was plenty to spare as the second child, but now, as Duchess, she couldn't help but feel the rush of sinfulness each time she signed for a necklace made of rare jewels to dawn across her neck, as they did that day. "You there," her delicate fingers gestured towards, what she thought was, an attendant nearby, "Who have you seen gracing this hall tonight? I'd like to know which company I am expected to dine with."

#🐍 ( severina de santos ) #🐍 ( threads ) #( severina & abby )

[gloriousncss]

Maria would stay tight lipped if she wanted to maintain the ruse of a regretful princess, wanting to bring glory back to her family. So often did the mask fall when even tempted with the idea of a different kind of rule, let alone a republic or a life without crowns. So badly did she want to seem higher, mightier, with tales of what she'd really done in those five years, but Joaquim was a dangerous foe to confess any truth to. She was smarter than that. "You sound just like our brother," she quipped, adhering to the air of carelessness, "I'd say you'd make one hell of a king, one day," which was, quite possibly, the biggest insult she could muster, "but there's not a chance of that ever happening. I hope that fierce protection of a crown you'll never wear pays off for you, though... unless the Bonaparte's manage to get it back. In which case, you'd really have nothing." She was prepared to lose her title. Despite her believing the Bonaparte reign would be a massive step in the wrong direction for selfless reasons, the selfish part of her wouldn't mind stepping down from all of this and disappearing if it meant her sister would be alright. "I learned a few things out there on my own... you should get off your knees sometime and try it."

"Unlike you, I did spend the past five years learning how to make myself useful, for my family and for myself. There is a lot to be done, when one understands politics and money— Well, I suppose you do understand money. How to spend it, at least," he retorts, sharply. "Make no mistake," he mocks, "marriage is just one kind of transaction. I have plenty of friends and allies to make up for mine, and good replacements for Stefan. So, you mean nothing except your name, and your husband's. And you'd better be a charming wife for him to keep you, because I will personally ensure you will not see another coin of Ortiz money."

#⚔️ ( maria ortiz ) #⚔️ ( threads ) #( maria & joaquim )

[gloriousncss]

“Is that not what your family wants?" she scoffed, beginning to wring out the remaining dripping water down her dark hair, "To get the crown back that you squandered in the first place?” Though, the life of a lady in Barcelona was more enjoyable before the weight of the crown, going back to the way things once were would not suffice. Maybe the monarchy would have a better chance of surviving if she'd never disappeared the first time. Now that she'd seen the truth, she knew that, in a better world, they’d all be free. Bonaparte's and Ortiz's would be nothing but simple humans making their own money their own way. There’d be no crowns, no obligations, no rules to follow. Maybe then, they could actually speak to one another without a muddied family feud between them. They might even be able to speak without accosting one another.

“I suppose you care, then,” Maria laughed, “I could not think of a notion more laughable than you actually caring about me, or any of my family, for that matter.” In truth, she probably could. Why would it seem so strange that, perhaps, the Bonaparte children were equally as betrayed by their parent’s motives? Maria never wanted a crown, so too the Bonaparte’s never wanted to steal from them to keep theirs. Theories, really. The inner thoughts of a naive mind.

despite their fall from grace so many years ago, damian had found that many remained loyal to his family, to the ideals of what once was—above all to him. they clung to the notion that favor would be shown to them once more, to their families as a whole, should the bonapartes be restored to the throne. that anointed lords and noble families might once more be free to do as they pleased and not fear being held accountable by the royal family. it's how these new royals wear their crowns that make the spanish nobility nervous, looking down at their deplorable behavior so intensely that those very crowns have begun to slip. and damian was eagerly waiting for it to fall just a little further.

there was a quiet knock on his door, a spanish guard coming to inform him of the princess' absence from lal qila. it happened so infrequently in the beginning, members of the ortiz guard and household staff bringing information to him. but now it seemed to be happening at all hours of the day. it only bolstered his confidence and made him see how within sight his goals might truly be.

the advisor made his way to the stables, not surprised to find the report true. a horse was missing and there was no princess maria to be found, so damian decided to make himself comfortable and wait. though he did not have to wait long, leading damian to believe it was merely a brief escape—an attempt to remember what freedom felt like.

he approached slowly, his hands clasped behind his back, not wanting to react emotionally to her comments. "pardon me, your highness, but you seem to be confusing my care for the crown's reputation and your titles with care for your family directly." however, he so often proved unsuccessful went it came to this particular royal. "they are not the same thing," he informed her, a tight-lipped smirk pulling at his lips.

"next time you decide to disappear for a quick trot around, do us all a favor and leave a note," he said feeling a slight irritation brewing within him for her inability to think of the consequences. of how her vanishing under the circumstances might appear to the other courts. "or better still, skip disappearing altogether." damian offered, his tone more serious now.

#⚔️ ( maria ortiz ) #⚔️ ( threads ) #( maria & damian )

[gloriousncss]

@balteren ( maria & max ) Location: Art and Music Gallery Time: Evening

Maria knew not much of the family she first came from, save for a gold coin pendant with the name Esmeralda engraved on it that was around her neck when she was found. She assumed it was her birth mother's name, and over time, she cared less and less for what the truth could really be. It was just an irrelevant name until she needed it to hide in those last five years. Esmeralda was a myth, a paragon of freedom and justice that was untainted by royal lineage. There was once a time where the mysterious Esmeralda, long dark hair flowing down her shoulders underneath her hood, met a French revolutionary named Max, one who shared brilliant thoughts and ideas with her. If only she'd told him the truth of her identity, that she was more than just a mere fighter, or bandit, before they parted ways. Perhaps then, she wouldn't have to hope that much softer make up, hair tied back, and a proper gown for royalty would be enough to make her unrecognizable. Around the Frenchmen, she stood a little bit taller, spoke a little more properly, so that she might not be picked out in a crowd, should someone see a bit of the rebel seep through the cracks. "These paintings are quite marvelous, are they not?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the colorful canvas hung on the wall just before her. At least painting, a favorite hobby of hers, was a subject she could drag on enough about, "They paint with oil much differently here, I find it truly refreshing..."

#⚔️ ( maria ortiz ) #⚔️ ( threads ) #( maria & max ) #// I AM SO PUMPED

[gloriousncss]

Dilara was used to taking comfort in words that were course despite its softness in nature. Growing up, she wasn't necessarily accustomed to bedtimes stories read by her parents or elder siblings in front of roaring fires. A trivial reputation would more than suffice. At least she could see a way towards the near future she wished to create; opportunities for her younger siblings and a memory she could leave this world with. "I am no fool..." she said softly, a gentle sparkle behind a business-like countenance, "Love matches are rare and often tempt the greatest of scandals in the process, that is not what I seek." She'd learned long enough ago, through a broken heart shattered on the ground, trampled under Achillas's boots, that love and marriage were not to be placed hand-in-hand. Besides, one could only look at Rostam and know that Kaito would meet a similar fate if he were to actually feel something for her. "Nor do I seek to use Japan for my own personal gain," she corrected, "But if this is to truly be a transaction of sorts, then would it, then, be foolish of me to not include one's royal advisor? How am I to trust that pursuing Japan is in my best interest if I do not at least like the council I will be sharing, or if they do not like me? Hatred is the poison of peace, after all."

"  you  believe  what  he  experiences  is beyond grief ?  "  her  own  has  been  akin  to  treading  water  ,  trying  to  return  to  shore  while  keeping  her  head  above  the  surface  . rage and confusion easily nestled in at home there .  "  your  reputation  is  trivial  —  "  had  it  been  such  an  important  factor  ,  then  suzume  gathers  that  talks  of  a  betrothal  between  the  sultana  and  the  then - crown  prince  would  have  fizzled  out  already  .  "  —  but  the  …  candidness  is  appreciated  .  "  under  other  circumstances  it  would  even  be  a  point  in  dilara's  favor  ,  as  so  often  a  vein  of  deceit  ran  through  the  upper  echelons  of  society  .  but  betrothals  are  the  last  thing  on  suzume's  mind  at  the  moment  .  still  ,  it  is  something  to  keep  a  note  of  ,  in  the  event  of  a  perceived  change  in  the  sultana's  tune  moving  forward  . the  lady  blinks  slowly  ,  in  time  with  a  deep  breath  .  keeping  herself  from  releasing  an  audible  sigh  .  "  if  i  may  be  so  bold  ,  "  she  echoes  ,  "  the  nature  of  an  arranged  marriage  is  to  unite  families  .  countries  .  you  and  his  majesty  are  conduits  ,  nothing  more  .  "  impersonal  as  her  words  are  ,  suzume  means  no  malice  with  them  .  only  a  statement  of  fact  .  "  and  i  would  hope  you  realize  that  .  otherwise  ,  i  fail  to  see  why  you  try  appealing  to  me  at  all  .  for  you  would  only  need  his  majesty's  approval  ,  no  ?  "

#💛 ( dilara abdul ) #💛 ( threads ) #( dilara & suzume )

[gloriousncss]

Gisela, in her right mind, would be a fool to believe Stefan's few words of comfort. But it was very rare that Gisela was in her right mind, more of in a constant state of delusional with grandeur. Of course those six words were able to change the course of the stars. Would it last very long? Positively not, but it was enough to stop the heaviness of her breathing as she began to wipe one tear after another. "I am..." did she even know how she was doing if Elias was not here to clarify such a thing? If it were all a lie or just a growing ember of gossip, she would be fine. If he had a reasonable explanation, she would be fine. If he were keeping the truth from her all this time about their financial status, then she would not be fine. "...confused," she finally finished, "Elias has always been a noble gentleman," or so the hero's portrait of him portrayed, "Surely, he would not lie to his family, let alone his own wife, right?"

a  disappointed  sigh  fell  from  his  lips. he'd never thought of elias as someone who'd run for his problems ( wasn't that frowned on in the military ) and yet he was nowhere to be found. it wasn't stefan's concern. if the german crown was broke then he'd build a new stable for his horses and life would continue on with little change. but instead of walking into his room, stefan sat down next to his sister in law.   ❝ yes, he will be back soon. ❞   if it ended up being a lie then it was one kindly meant. though elias must know that he couldn't hide forever. if gisela didn't go looking for him then someone else would or whispers of the german king's cowardice would spread.   ❝ how are you? ❞   he asked despite suspecting the answer.

#🎀 ( gisela hatzfeld ) #🎀 ( threads ) #( gisela & stefan )

[gloriousncss]

Joanna's brow raised with a playfully skeptical look upon her face. "Ah, so you knew nothing, then," she shrugged, beginning down the road to all-in-good-fun as the alcohol fell down her throat. Reuben would be fine, once the libation ceased her incessant worrying. He and Elias were of similar height, after all. "Who do you think will prevail of the two?" she instigated, "Merely a curiosity, seeing as I will obviously place my bets out of bias. I am quite familiar with your younger brother's strength and resiliency, after all..." She grinned rather mischievously, like a little sister pestering an older brother. Heaven knows, she could not jest like this with Calan.

getting  involved  in  the  brotherly  quarrel  would stop nothing and only put him at risk of being dragged into the mess, which was the response prepared in expectance of the scottish princess objecting due to her relationship with reuben. a bright grin lit up his expression when she instead accepted the goblet. stefan relaxed back into his chair and kicked his feet up on the table   ❝ i'm insulted. obviously i knew it all given how i love getting involved in my country's politics. ❞   sarcasm dripped from his every word, and stefan chuckled before taking a long drink of wine.

#🏹 ( joanna stuart ) #🏹 ( threads ) #( joanna & stefan )

[gloriousncss]

Oh how Dilara would have seethed at the thought of not being feared. Respected was to be up the air, but being feared was the royal family way, in Turkey. To be feared was to get what you want without question, for there was no rule, no dignity, without fear. More so, the sultana ended up being more afraid of such a mantle, even in her younger years, hence the constant running away from it. Only now did she know how to behave under such an emotion when there was so little time left. "I would despair if you were," she sighed, "I'd rather be told the truth than have someone delude me with falsehoods out of fear." And, perhaps, right about now, she needed to be told the truth of the matter. Would it be even worth pursuing this alliance, or even the emperor himself? "I have spoken with daggers on my tongue for years. It is far more painful to the user than it is to the recipient," she shook her head, paying no mind to the impropriety of candidness, "Unfortunately, I choose to keep my words honeyed. Kindness hasn't gotten me very far in life, but it is what I'd like to be remembered for. I am acutely aware that others may dub me weak for it, particularly my eldest brother, but one's greatest mistake may be confusing a warm heart for a weak one, wouldn't you agree?"

The immature, antagonistic side of her wants to sneer back. Remind the Sultana that her rare experience of social isolation and criticism was par for the course for Midori. Point out that she's only ever been on the inside, and Midori the outside. But saner decisions prevail. And one resounding thought; this potential alliance is important to Kaito. "I have no reason to trust you, no. But I am, frankly, not scared of you either." Midori states bluntly, raising her bowl of soup and sipping at the rim. Far from "proper manners" but here they were. "So perhaps my opinion is a wash, then." She concludes, raising her brows at the words. If nothing else, she can understand Dilari's impulse to make things better. "Some people are made of honey. Others of vinegar. A few of steel. Your problem, as I see it, is you think honeyed words will heal a broken heart. It does not." Was Dilara asking her opinion? No. But she had chosen to dine with her, and it was impossible to have one without the other.

#💛 ( dilara abdul ) #💛 ( threads ) #( dilara & midori )

[gloriousncss]

Severina, rather ironically, took to chapel. Of course, she'd never prayed, it was far too much of a gentle act to ask a higher entity for help when all she needed to do was take matters into her own hands. It seemed there was no quieter place in the world than churches, no place where she could have a moment to just think without the pestering whispers and need for useless conversations. Here it was just music, if not complete silence. Though, it seemed even in church, there were not rules to tame such unruly sights such as mangy dogs. Since when did paragons of peace and thought become playgrounds for drooling mutts? Still, none of her disdain could be read across her acute face, sly smirk and pleasurable brow. "Not at all..." she lied, a sweet and sugary tongue playing its part on her bite. Now, to see how this could be of any use to her, "The church is a welcoming space, is it not? I'm sure we can find room for the both of us, wouldn't you agree?"

closed starter with: max and severina (@gloriousncss) location: the chapel time: roughly 4:30am on day 3 of the rainstorm

Much to the dismay of those who raised him, Maximilien had never been a particularly religious person. He went through the motions to the extent that was socially required of him, but that was as far as he would allow himself to go. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in God- but it wasn’t that he did either. It was complicated. But as the rains poured down that night, he thought about the old story of Noah and the ark, and the rainy night his sister spent telling him about it. The thunder had scared him awake, and she let him rest his head in her lap as she assured him that the world would still be there in the morning. That night was similar to this one, but after the events of the last few days, he was no longer sure the world would last much longer. He and Plumet toddled down to the chapel, which he assumed would be empty, and he sat in a pew for awhile, listening to the thrumming of rain on the roof and watching the candles flickering on the walls. The door at the back of the chapel squeaked open, and Plumet let out a low, quiet growl, her hackles raising slightly. Turning in his seat, he saw Severina in the doorway, walking down the aisle way. “Ignore my dog, I think you’ve just startled her.” He thought for a moment and stood when he realized it was probably disrespectful to bring a dog into a Chapel. “I’ll let you have the space. We were just leaving.” 

#🐍 ( severina de santos ) #🐍 ( threads ) #( severina & max )