#pbstarter

[lucian-delacroix-blog]

date: august 23rd, nighttime location: alleyway availability: open to all 

It seemed that Lucian was constantly running, running from his future as a prince, running from royal duties ever since he was a child, and now running for his life after he had been exposed as a Saint within the Seraphim pit. The people who had been watching the duel may have been roaring with the excitement that came with the inevitable bloodshed, but many others were not as thrilled to find out news of another Saint; and this time, a Delacroix no less. 

Lucian wore a bruise on his face as he was forced to sprint down the street, sadistic laughter chasing his heels. It had only been two days since the incident at the pit, but Lucian had barely enough time to think about the stranger he so quickly killed with the newfound enemies that spawned at the mere sight of him.

Sinners were pumping through Lucian’s bloodstream, a reluctant but necessary attempt at more control of his own abilities so that his head wouldn’t be ripped from his shoulders. Breath whistling between teeth, he risked a short glance behind him before he reached a hand out, swiping the air and watching two cars fly over his head and crashing behind him, exploding in a fire. Demolition charges be damned.

Lucian already killed one person; he hoped this wouldn’t result in more deaths than his brain could handle. Skidding around the corner, Lucian caught his breath in desperate gasps, wincing at the shouts and screams that flooded the air at the sudden car explosion.

“I’m sorry.” Lucian whispered to any potential victims, taking a look at the fire before disappearing into a building. Hands balled into shaky fists, and it was all Lucian could do to maintain his composure and not lose it in a fit of tears right then and there. At the sight of someone who didn’t seem to be part of the mob, Lucian approached them cautiously, desperation written in the shakiness of his words.

“Please, please help me. They’re after me and - and I need help.” Lucian mustered, his voice just above a whisper, already bracing himself for another attack on his Sainthood.

#pbstarter #PLEASE do not match #was just painting a scene lmao

[chcsenone-blog1]

HarryxOpen

The staircases had always moved in patterns that were never quite the same and yet still, something seemed different about them. Harry watched them with a blank expression, his mind trying to decipher whether or not it was willing to use the energy it required to really think about it. Most of it was probably all in his mind anyway, the knowledge that they were recently rebuilt forcing him to see them differently despite how well they had been replicated. The truth was if you didn’t know better you would assume that nothing had changed.

When inhaling the air felt light and musky as it always had but something else now resided there. Like a whisper it carried through him like the ghosts often did when they let their minds wander. It was only a small impact in comparison to the truth.

Harry felt a presence join by his side. Without looking up he sighed, the sound almost shaking as he tried to find a spasm of normality. “They kept the stairs at least.” Light sarcasm laced his words in a poor attempt of a joke. He could have elaborated, going on about how with a remodel they could have made them easier to navigate but something felt wrong about so blatantly pointing out that fact. It felt like it would break the thin invisible wall that kept the whispers from screaming.

#pbstarter

[auroraparrino]

> @darius-shareef !!

The pressure of countless exams, unavoidable late nights studying, working at the hospital and everything that seemed to be happening in Athos and to the people around her had Aurora reeling. The overwhelming pressure to be and do her best was starting to get to her and it didn’t help that the day had been particularly hard with her mentor unexplainably being frustrated with her all afternoon and evening.

As she walked home and heard the ruffling of leaves near her, Aurora turned and hoped to God it wasn’t trouble. Her restraint and patience was at it’s minimum and any possible assailant seemed was likely to be knifed by the small Saint. Fortunately, it was just a small dog that Aurora recognized. Curious and in no hurry to get home, she followed Darius’ little friend down the path to the destroyed observatory. 

“Flipper,” she called out softly, hoping to get the dog’s attention but it scurried away into the building so she had no choice but to follow. When Flipper stopped in the middle of the telescope room and turned to wag his tail at her, Aurora couldn’t help but smile lightly and bend down. It ran over to be pet as soon as she did. The healer scratched behind the little dog’s ear and ruffled the fur on his head. “... It’s good to see you too, buddy,” she whispered with a sad smile.

Just as soon as she did, Aurora heard footsteps from another one of the empty rooms and turned. Tired and in no mood to get up and be wary of any strangers roaming the observatory at this hour, Aurora just kept herself down and squinted a little as she watched the shadow approach.

#olddarius #pbstarter

[xhermionegranger-blog1]

Hermione didn’t quite know what she expected when she was to return to Hogwarts. While her main argument for returning has been to finish the N.E.W.T.s, searching for a sense of normalcy had been just as important. The place looked exactly as it had during her sixth year, even if large parts of the building had ended in ruins after the war. It gave her a sense of nostalgia... a sense familiarity more than anything else, and she realised this in turn gave off a false image of normalcy. She didn’t know if the school would or could ever return to normal, knowing exactly what had happened on the very same grounds. Regardless, it looked the very same as it had done for the past centuries, and she supposed that was all she could expect from it. 

She had already walked around in the newly rebuilt halls for a bit. She was determined to get a certain book from the library regarding wizarding law. The aftermaths of war often followed with a certain need for justice, and while she had always had an interest in the topic, she would admit it might have affected her too. Worried the book might be taken by other students with the same intentions, she had made sure to find it at the first opportunity to do so. 

However, this also meant she was running late to the opening ceremony. With quick, long steps, she made her way down the stairs, through the hallways towards the main hall. She hardly saw the person coming in the opposite direction--and she supposed the other person didn’t see her either, or she simply had too high velocity for them to move out of the way once they noticed her approaching. “Oh!” She stopped abruptly right before them, clinging the book to her chest, before taking a step back. 

“I’m sorry! I almost didn’t see you--”

#so my gifs wouldn't load but feel free to use them! probably will once i get proper internet #pbstarter

[bloodyrosalie]

12:04 AM, JUNE 21ST

INFERNO

WEARING (X) AND (X)

OPEN!!

 Bass thrummed through Rosalie’s veins like a tremor, pulsing its way from the tips of small fingers to the temples the anchor would throw back in a flare of wispy blonde. Either the music or the alcohol had made its way to her head fast enough to blur ecstasy and balance. An ideal way to spend the anniversary of her birth, she reasoned, sneaking away from the public eye and throwing lopsided smirks at pretty strangers.

 Flashing lights of rainbowed hues poured down onto the crowd, pressing the persistent heat to their writhing bodies as Rosalie all too confidently made her way up to the one she had been throwing easy glances at.

 “Come,” their fingers were in hers before they could decline, “dance with me.”      

#pbstarter #surprise bitch #everyone meet drunk rosie #drunk rosie meet everyone #the 20th is her birthday yall this is the reason for this disaster #LETS GO

[unebellefacade]

WHO: Belle Delacroix & anyone. WHERE: The Golden Apple. WHEN: July 29th, 14:49 PM.

So maybe her father’s heart was squeezed apart inside his chest, so maybe her best friend was a Saint hiding her powers who was then put in an early grave as well, so maybe those two had been having an affair for God knew how long — Belle Delacroix was having a marvelous day, and nothing could ruin that. Part of her realized it may have been a little... sacrilegious even, taking the power of her best friend, with her body so fresh in the ground, but this was what she wanted. Now she wielded both swords, fear and love. It was a strange sensation, feeling herself brim with power like this, and the first days after Violette bestowed the light upon her, she had done nothing but let it out. 

Reality had started setting in soon, though. Athos needed some fixing up after all the chaos, and even though Jean-Pierre had taken the reigns of the Kingdom, she — especially with all this newfound power she had, both through the light and her connection to Violette — had a duty to help put it all back in order. She had not made an official statement yet regarding the power she’d lifted from her dead friend; she was still debating if she would, to begin with. And then, of course, there was the fact that despite her best intentions, Belle was mourning. She had loved her father, despite his choices. And Nikita... Dear God — it was like she mourned the friendship, the dishonesty that made her doubt everything now, as much as she mourned the loss of Nikita herself. 

Belle, horrible at processing her emotions in a normal, healthy manner, however, acted this out in the only way she knew how to: a complete lack of empathy and the extremely reckless spending of money. The new powers were an added bonus there too, she let them flaunt, needing the adoration to lift that dark cloud hovering over her — and soon there were people lining up to help carry her bags, or buy her gifts. How Nikita had not flaunted this might baffled her. She sent a few of them on their way to the palace, carrying her new possessions, whilst she found a table at the Golden Apple, not even in a private room. It was good to be seen among the people, was it not? And the eager looks she was receiving from the other patrons were quite an alluring prospect as well. 

“Of course you may join me for a bite,” Belle spoke up to whoever stepped by her table, a smile filled with pure radiance, from both her power and the way she was trying to fool everyone into thinking she was doing absolutely fine. She could already see the headline: BELLE DELACROIX, PRINCESS OF THE PEOPLE. 

It was only then she looked up to see who, exactly, she’d invited to her table.

#pbstarter #「 INTERACTIONS. 」 #//i've lost all control over her #//feel free to not match length BTW #//this got away from me. once again

[jpdelacroix-blog]

> @emiliadelacroix​ !!

“Alright,” JP said, gazing over at the close bullseye as he stood outside in the archery ring. “... Now you try.” He turned his head as he spoke, looking over to Emilia. “Come on now, Emilia. You know even without Quinn you need to have ways to defend yourself. So let’s improve that shoddy aim, shall we?”

The Prince’s voice and expression were gentle, at least more gentle than how he communicated with others in the castle. But he remained stern and unsmiling for the moment. Affection and praise often had to be earned when it came to JP, no matter how much he cared for his little sister.

#oldemilia #pbstarter

[darius-shareef-blog]

date & time: may 17, 3:15 pm location: destroyed astronomical observatory availability: open to all (though this place is frequented by Saints)

Darius inhaled slowly through a joint, breathing in way too much for his lungs to comfortably bear, but if a couple of coughs was all he had to exchange for quick and decent high, then so be it. He tossed a bowl of food and water out in the open and leaned against the wall of the broken down observatory. 

Darius whistled twice, loud and long. Moments after, a small black dog came scurrying out, panting and lapping at his fingers. His face curled in mild disgust while he retracted his fingers out of the dog’s reach. When that only seemed to intensify the puppy’s need to eat his damn hand, Darius took a drag and blew a puff of marijuana into his face.

The dog sneezed, but quickly recuperated and happily trotted over to the open bowls sitting just for him.

“I like you, Flipper.” Darius said casually, eyes closing. “You’re so much better than any other human or Saint.”

#pbstarter #yup #have at it

[freyjavolkova]

WHERE: Ophelia Gardens WHEN: 24th June, 2:38pm WHO: Freyja Volkova & Anyone

Freyja was bored. With Maeve nowhere to be found she had decided to explore Athos for herself, and apparently that was how she had arrived within the Gardens although she could hardly find herself impressed with the greenery before her. Ostentatious, and an obscene way to display the Delacroix wealth, she had no interest in the hedge sculptures that appeared in various areas of the garden, especially when it came to being such prominent figures; most likely inviting people to kneel over in awe over the Delacroix family and their might. It was no better than Serpentia, and if truth be told from what she had heard of how they treated her fellow brothers and sisters — the Saints, she was infuriated with what they were subjected to. A haughty sneer upon her lips, she must have looked rather out of place to the individual near her as she finally began to interact with them; hoping that there was at least one decent place within this city that she could discover. “Tell me there’s more to this kingdom than this.” She dramatically stated with a sigh, using a hand to gesture to the sculpture beside her as she asked, “Or at least somewhere I can get batshit drunk.”

#pbstarter #open starter #// wow i did not expect it to turn out like this

[ivycharleston]

WHERE: Sapphire Room WHEN: 20th May, 8:43pm WHO: Ivy Charleston & Anyone

Ivy might have promised Royce that she would play nice, but that did not mean that she was vaguely interested in the annual Masquerade Ball at all. He had promised that their bloodthirst would be quenched soon; and she was awaiting for that to happen in the coming days. There was only so much she could take of the patient game, and thus like a predator she stalked her way across the ballroom; a haughty smirk upon her features as she glanced at the way the various individuals milled about, making pointless conversation. Picking up a glass of champagne, her fingertips began to tap impatiently upon the table as she awaited for something or someone or interest to appear.

However as she gazed at the masked figures, she began to feel the feeling of someone watching her as she turned around to raise an eyebrow as she stated, “Now tell me, what does one have to do to make things more interesting around here?”

#pbstarter #open starter #gods among men #// forgive me i'M STILL GETTING INTO HER

[lucian-delacroix-blog]

date & time: may 18, 11:40 pm location: holy spirit bar availability: open to all

Lucian had been holing up inside for the past few days and it was getting to a point where he was itching for social interaction. Yes, it was true, he spent most of his life flaunting his rebellious side in front of eager paparazzi, hungry for a new tabloid about the infamous Lucian Delacroix; or at this point, the infamous Anti-Delacroix. However, it got to a point in any celebrity’s life where having paparazzi infiltrate their life day in and day out with no concept of boundaries got to be exhausting. 

Taking the time to be by himself, drink and play video games with the curtains rolled down was the only time Lucian got a chance to relax. Now, however, he was sitting at the Holy Spirit Bar, ready to engage in cameras and crowds once more. 

It had been years since he had left the Delacroix castle, and with it the hype of having cameras surround him, wanting to know what made him leave. Even now, however, Lucian still found himself side eyeing camera flashes at random points in his nights once people recognized him for what he was. 

But four shots of tequila into the night and Lucian honestly couldn’t care less. He let out a yelp and scrunched his face at the burn of alcohol down his throat, pounding the bar with a fist before laughing. Lucian flipped off a nearby camera and swallowed his shot. Out of excitement, he wheeled around in his chair and pointed at the first person he saw with a large grin.

“Hey. You. You’re taking the next two shots with me and you’re welcome, ‘cause they’re gonna be on me.” 

#pbstarter #come party with him yall

[pestiilents-blog]

time: 1:00 AM location: the golden apple availability: open to all !!

He kicked the door open with bloodied hand held before his face. Fingers all splayed, bone visible in some, blood drenching others, it was clear to even the wandering eye that his hand was crushed, pulverized; but his expression belied a victory, and not a loss. Anyone else whose hand was so immobile, so grotesque in how it appeared to have suffered a great loss, surely would not have smiled as they kicked in the swinging door to the bar, striding inside as if decorated with a mantle of clear victories. And perhaps this was a clear victory - there was no telling who had earned the privilege of making his hand like this. 

You should have seen the other guy. Mason smirked. There was a sick pleasure in parading his bloody victory, no matter how small ( though there is no such thing as a small victory, to a Horseman ) throughout the stomping ground of the plebeians who know better than to make him break bone upon bone in such a way. It wasn’t a chore - the act of physically putting down resistance, and keeping it down, was catharsis. And resistance came in even the smallest tics. His work was never done, it seemed. 

He slid into a chair at the bar, languid and drunk on the high of the fight, away from which he’d walked with an enviable break with which he could play. He’d been berated for using his powers in a place where food was consumed - and meant to be kept down - but it was late, and he was in no mood to cater to the more delicate sensibilities of those around him. And so he flattened his hand upon the bar, ignoring the squelch of blood against the clean surface, and set to work at straightening, lengthening, transforming his weapon-hand into something that showed not each bone in each finger. Sensibilities, after all - once the crackling, squelching, hissing of his power’s effect upon his hand had begun, he was never inclined to stop it. 

“Could sure use a drink over here -” he barked, eyes never leaving his hand as it moved under the duress of his Saintly ability. Without asking, Mason reached for the glass to his left, a clear liquid - vodka, he supposed - and tipped it upon his broken fingers, ignoring the protests of its drinker. It stung, but he did not flinch. 

He chuckled, one barking sound, “Not that one. Another one. For consumption. I’m a little too busy to specify.” 

#pbstarter #date: unspecified #just to get things rolling!! #pls don't match length

[auroraparrino]

Location: Athos, Aurora Parrino’s house Availability: Closed to @darius-shareef​

Aurora was studying in a quiet household, burying her face in an enormous textbook only a last year medical student would be torturing themselves with. It was only when Minos started squawking and flapping excitedly in the other room that she looked up in time to hear a knock on her door.

Grateful for the distraction, the Saint quickly tried to fix her hair that she’d messed up by continuously running her hands through it in frustration and got up from her desk. Minos quieted down when he saw her walking into the living room and rushing to the door.

But caution was a habit for the daughter of a mob boss. So, first, Aurora looked through the peephole to see who it was. She hadn’t expected the visit. But it was both surprising and weirdly exciting to see Darius’ familiar frame on the other side of the door. She huffed in amusement and opened it all the way to smile lightly at him. “Darius?” Her head tilted inquisitively. “What’s up?”

#olddarius #pbstarter

[legitanimo]

WHEN: June 22nd, 1:17 am WHERE: Destroyed Astronomical Tower WHO: Mina Augustine & Mason Buchanan / @pestiilents

For a long time, Mina hadn’t indulged in alcohol because it would only heighten her powers, and cause her to hear hallucinated voices — ones that would in time come to frighten her; for the thoughts that would come to mind, the ones that she would discern. A lone bottle clutched between her fingertips, she leaned against the rubble, her figure slumped over as she took another long drag of the liquid; relishing the burn she felt slip down her throat as she thought over the last time she had consumed this much liquor. Images of sirens and a loud crash came to mind, the feeling of absolute darkness before waking up to a sea of light. Disorientated and confused, she in her haze to find her parents instead heard voices in her mind — ones that frightened her for what it could possibly mean. And with this came a broken cry that escaped her lips as she began to drink more profoundly from the bottle as tears began to stream down her features. “If only you could see me now.” She bitterly remarked before smashing the bottle on the wall, the glass shattering in her hands and lightly piercing parts of flesh as she whispered, “I miss you.” Reaching over to pick up another bottle of bourbon, she ignored the brief glimpses of crimson she saw as she wrapped her arms around her body; trying to find a sense of peace and comfort before she began to drink from the next. Perhaps it would come from the bottom of this one.

#pbstarter #closed starter #c: mason #pestiilents

[bloodyrosalie]

10:04 PM, MAY 20th

SAPPHIRE ROOM, CASTLE

WEARING

OPEN!!

 A manually ingrained image of the line of masks hung on the wall of Seraphim’s backroom flickered behind her eyes in flashes as her gaze glided over the span of the room, the sea of bobbing disguises. The Devil’s Three had accidentally chosen a phantom, skeleton and devil as their facades. Reading a hastily scribbled version of the other two’s names beneath the displayed disguises had tugged a smile onto her lips.

 Then, there was Dante’s, hanging ever so slightly and yet evidently notably above the rest. Angel feathers solidified in gold. Appropriate. Rosalie kept the four of them in mind as the tingling warmth of contained blood approached her, supposedly offered a hand. Before she turned, she spoke.

 “Asking for a dance, stranger?”

#gods among men #EVENT: GODS AMONG MEN #pbstarter #:)) #@kyra and adina #this is it hello

[unebellefacade]

WHO: Belle Delacroix & anyone WHERE: St. Bellamy’s Church WHEN: May 23rd, 02:08 pm

Religion had always been an essential aspect of Belle’s life, not necessarily because she was a true believer—far from it, actually, since she believed more in what she could do for herself rather than leaving her fate with some figure hidden away somewhere in the sky—but because it created the right image. A few times a week, she found her way to St. Bellamy’s church and sat down by herself to pray. Anyone who took a close look at her, however, would soon spot the cell phone hidden in her hands, and the intense way she was texting or scrolling through all of her social media platforms. Today, especially after the events of the Masquerade Ball, she had been slightly more hesitant to come to church, the statue of Bellamy Delacroix looming down on her ominously.

She sat down in her usual pew and tried to look heavily at prayer, but the way she kept glancing up at the statue was likely an obvious tell-tale she was not, in fact, doing the actual praying. There was something making her anxious just sitting there under the gaze of statue-Bellamy, something that made her want to give up on the pious image creation and instead grab a late lunch at that new restaurant she’d spotted near Paradise Square. However, Belle was anything but not persistent, and managed to last an entire twenty minutes—albeit spent glued to her phone, with brief glances at the statue to spare—at ‘prayer’, before she decided that she couldn’t bear any more of the horribly uncomfortable feeling the church was giving her and decided to leave early. 

Not easily shaken, she put on her usual confident stride as she got out of her pew and made her way towards the ornate doors of the church. She spared one final glance towards the statue, before turning on her heels again, barely managing to keep her balance as she was startled by someone stepping out of the shadows on the side of the room. Dear Lord, get yourself together Belle. She silently chastised herself, before turning her dagger-like glare to the person who’d startled her—or rather, the people. A couple looking disheveled and hastily buttoning up their clothing stood in front of her, and she quickly slipped back into her role of the haughty princess. “Don’t you have any shame?! This is a church—a place where we worship God, not get naked,” 

It was all feigned, of course, but too late, she realized her voice had been quite loud, and too late she realized she also had an audience.

#pbstarter #「 INTERACTIONS. 」 #//this..... got away from me #//belle: I GOT A LOT TO SAY BITCH #//feel free to not match length tho 100%