°☾ ｡ CARPE NOCTEM.

           » a surprise ? joyce, you know that wasn’t necessary … what is it, though ? «

          ava had been thinking about this surprise for some time, planning it as well as telling flynn about it. ( well, granted, part of that was done for his sake — and for the sake of a certain blond. ) she’d asked around a bit, just to see if roman had any other plans — but it turned out that he kept himself busy with work for his entire birthday ; which means that her surprise should definitely be a success. and surely, it IS. she can’t quite tell what exactly is going through his head, especially because he keeps quiet while she tells him about the last few week, the things she experienced and the places she visited. more so than usually. » roman … ? « ava asks after a moment of silence, gaze resting on his features for a while. 

1. BASICS

NAME: ellen. PRONOUNS: she/her. SEXUALITY: bisexual. ZODIAC SIGN: virgo. TAKEN OR SINGLE: c’mon guys u all know i’m married to kae.

THREE FACTS: 001.  i can speak 5 languages. 002.  my two favourite things to buy are cups and notebooks. 003.  when i was a kid, i used to tell other children my name is ‘snow white’ - and they would believe me.

2. EXPERIENCE

HOW LONG   (  MONTHS / YEARS ?  ): jfc i think about 9 years ?? PLATFORMS YOU’VE USED: german message boards, tumblr, sk*pe, k*k, twitter. 
BEST EXPERIENCE: starting on tumblr with all my favourite canon muses. those were the times, man.

3. MUSE  PREFERENCES

FEMALE OR MALE: both, as well as nonbinary muses, are amazing, but i feel like it’s easier for me to write male muses. idk why though. MULTI OR SINGLE: single. as much as i love my multi, but it’s way more effort you have to put in and things get messy and exhausting so easily. plus people love to ignore you a lot more than they do with single muse blogs.

4.  WRITING  PREFERENCES

FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT: uhm. have you seen my fucking threads? angst. PLOTS OR MEMES: both are hard for me, tbh. i think memes, though. LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: that depends on my mood and the muse and whether i’m going through another writer’s block or not.

BEST TIME TO WRITE: verrrry early in the morning or verrrrry late at night. ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): absolutely. they all have something with me in common, but there isn’t a particular muse that’s entirely like me.

          see, she’s not exactly JUDGING roman for not wanting to drink. looking at him and the state he’s in, it might even be the better option. however, she feels like there’s another reason why he ‘ doesn’t feel like drinking ’, and seraphine is pretty sure she can guess what it is. ( or rather, WHO it is. ) » all right, but you should know that i’ll still have a drink. « it’s just a fair warning, the girl is not looking to get shitfaced tonight. placing the order before she leans back in her seat, azure eyes rest on her opposite. » how’s casper ? « the female avoids asking how HE is feeling, mainly for the reason that he’d answer with ‘ fine ’. roman is A L W A Y S ‘ fine ’ — no need to make him lie once more. well, at least not yet. she does plan on approaching the topic of his well-being, taking in the worryingly dark circles under his eyes ; and seraphine can’t help but wonder what keeps him up at night. for her, it’s hard to imagine herself in his place. sleep always came EASY to her, usually washing the exhaustion after dance practice from her body.

   He hates his family and it seems to him that they hate him just as much. He wasn’t cut out for school, let alone a privatized one. He didn’t seem as rich as he was; he never had done. His family barely provided him with the bare minimum, still believing that they blamed him for the death of his mother. They had sent him here so they no longer had to deal with him; he had nobody in the entire world and it didn’t seem as though that would be changing anytime soon. So, he wasn’t one to listen to rumors, to gossip; he couldn’t help but believe the stereotypes inflicting on boarding school boys, especially when he noted the whispering and laughing that was happening meters away. “What the f u c k do you want?” He asks; with a grimace.

@eigengrav

               birthdays are not roman’s favourite days in the year       his birthday, that is. while his parents never really bothered much to make him feel particularly loved, he eventually came to the conclusion that it was unnecessary in general. new people found out about it months after it was already over and anyone who thought about surprising him usually got turned down. roman has picked the late shift on purpose, to waste no time dwelling on something that means nothing to no one. until he found ava in his flat. it changes a lot, that much is sure. lying in bed with someone else, her heartbeat soothing him as she tells him about the past few weeks. but roman is quiet, merely staring into space and allowing his exhausted body to remain motionless in his girlfriend’s arms. it’s a lovely surprise, but... he isn’t.

it was a private moment in public she’d witnessed that made her react, but nothing important enough to bring attention to. but now she wishes to have brought it up, because it might have helped evade that slight tightening in her chest – a sign of nervousness she had never been accustomed too. but it’s only a hint of the emotion, something she does her best in brushing off as she digs her teeth into her bottom lip and meets his eyes. it’s not grave nor a definitive factor that must be introduced into their relationship in order for anaïtis to deem it serious or strong. no, it’s the simple stroke of curiosity that has the girl sitting in the middle of the park asking her boyfriend a question she could not find the answer to herself. “ do you ever think about being intimate with me? “ she asks, hoping he understands exactly what she was implying. 

   it’s not unusual for his friends to drag him out to little clubs or bars when he isn’t in the best mood or just being plain lazy. he doesn’t recall ever going to this place and he isn’t too sure if he’s going to decide to come back again or not, but the music is good and the people are alright, so he just might. the band playing is good and he’s almost positive that he knows one of the band members, actually he’s completely positive that he does. he is a very observant person and he is never one to forget a face, so of course he’s going to remember a face he chatted with over the internet for quite some time. - he had accidentally zoned out in a thought about roman, and he hadn’t even realized the band had finished playing and that this interment friend was only feet away from him. however, he does snap out of it when he realized someone is talking to him and it takes him a moment to process that it is roman talking to him. “hey! i thought that was you up there. - i could ask you the same question, really. “

she wonders if he’s aware of how much he means to her – how much he matters. anaïtis was never one to form deep connections with others, a feat that became closer to impossible after the death of her parents. of course, she cared for others; loved her aunt and uncle, held interest for the handful of cousins from her father’s side, enjoyed the company of the friends she had come to make over the years. but she’d always been different in comparison to those around her. she was more free-spirited, a dreamer that sought to make the imaginations of tomorrow a reality of today. and with that came a lack of deep bond with people, because there were always more to become acquainted with. anaïtis always felt her path would take her away from those she loved so that she could experience the world first hand and take in all it could offer her. she takes his hand, careful in drawing her legs up as she rests his arm against her thighs. her hair falls from behind her ear and curtains her visage from his view, her fingertip tracing the inside of his middle finger delicately. no, she never imagined it to occur that she would ponder the future and worry about the possible absence of someone. her hands lowers, fingertips grazing the edge of his sleeve before she inches it down enough to see the start of his wrist. 

          she doesn’t believe him. she doesn’t want to believe him. she doesn’t know w h a t to believe in. hell, seraphine doesn’t even know if she’s GLAD to be out of there. her surroundings sure do look similar to those back there, when they experimented on her, inflicted pain on her just to see how she would deal with it. cerulean hues flicker from the males figure to the instruments in the back — and although a voice is telling her it’s just a medical center, she doesn’t feel safe. so when he stretches out his hand — reaching out for her ? — seraphine just stares at him. as if she could figure out what he really wants to do. if they’re going to hurt her again. if they intend to USE her like the last facility did.

          as a result, the female moves away a little. not much, given how there’s not really enough place for her to back away, just enough to tell him she does not want to do whatever he wants to do. » … n-no, you won’t. « her voice is hoarse from not having spoken in such a long time, but her decision stands firm. she’s not going to hurt him let him touch her again. those names don’t mean anything to her, but the idea of new clothes … sounds nice. seraphine doesn’t want to give in yet. she’s not going to trust them just because they give her new clothes. » okay. « with her eyes practically glued to hayden, she wonders what’s going to happen next. her heart is racing and she feels overwhelmed by everything, although — she has to admit that it helped once he cleared the room. one person she can get used to. ( but she is not going to trust him. )

            he expected this. sure, she has her reasons to be suspicious of all the sudden changes happening around her. chances are that hayden would still be kicking and screaming for his life, breaking everyone’s nose if they got too close to him       but he really TRIES to emphase the feeling of safety in this place. he sent the others away ( mostly roman, who’d still be on his back for the rest of the week, accusing him of getting them all into danger ) and he refrains from using his powers on her, otherwise she wouldn’t get to refuse his offer of cleaning the wounds. he’s really doing his best to be the good guy here and that is a fucking tough job for someone like hayden livingston. 

             it’s the adrenaline after a gig that makes everything seem brighter, sharper and louder      not particularly clearer, but that has never been the case with roman anyway. laughter erupts from the depths of his throat as joy and happiness explode inside his chest. someone pets his back, a girl flashes him a coy smile, a few people of the crowd yell compliments at him and the rest of the band. playing in another city ( another country ) is almost like a dream, too surreal to be a concept he could possibly grasp. and yet, it is nothing but reality. next to the bar       too tall for roman to overlook, he spots a familiar face. one he has only seen through a screen so far and that suddenly accompanies the surreal universe he’s currently in. ❝ hello, stranger. ❞ he has to yell over the loud music blasting through the speakers now, head titled back a little to be able to face zaire entirely. a grin is plastered across his features and green eyes sparkle with the energy rushing through his veins. ❝ come here often? ❞

           hayden can barely remember the last time someone has been this quiet around him. there’s always talking involved with him; whether it’s an argument started from his side or the stubborn refusal from his opponent       someone is always talking. sometimes people like to talk OVER him as well, like he isn’t really there although he can perfectly hear every single spoken word. the others aren’t stupid. they don’t really believe he can’t actually hear them. they just know he doesn’t care. maybe it’s the same thing with seraphine. maybe she couldn’t care less about WHAT he has to say or if he doesn’t say anything at all. and maybe she just doesn’t trust him enough to open her own mouth just yet. he wouldn’t blame her ( hell knows whatever those sadists did to her at the facility ). hayden has only ever heard rumours, horrifying and maddening things from brainwashing to immane torture. most people who ended up there didn’t come out alive or not alive enough to be considered viable.

           she’s quiet, is the thing. her eyes practically glued to every single of his very moves, every breath he takes, every little glance he throws her way. a part of him wonders if she’s AFRAID of him while the other part is determined to tend her wounds. some of them look nasty, brutal. he wouldn’t want to switch places with her any time. ❝ i’m going to clean the blood off you, alright? it’ll probably sting like a B I T C H, though. ❞ he holds up a wet washcloth for her to see before stretching his free hand out. truth be told, he doesn’t expect her to touch him. whatever happened back at the facility left a throbbing pain back in hayden’s chest, reminding him of something alike to a bolt of electricity. she had zapped him       hard. ❝ there some clothes for you too. naina brought them... or ava. whatever, they should fit you. ❞

             it starts with a coffee       or maybe it starts with a first look, really. but for roman it starts with a coffee. see, he can’t say much about it. it’s a latte, most likely with cow milk ( a stranger can’t predict someone’s a VEGAN, unless they make it obvious ). he can’t drink it, but throwing it away would be a waste so he’ll give it to terry. the guy’s been on the streets for ages, has a dog to take care of and could use a hot drink every now and then. he’ll appreciate it. the nice gesture, though rather surprising, occurs a few times before roman decides to take the initiative himself. the girl looks young, probably a few years younger than he is, and works at the flower shop down the road       he did NOT stalk her. it was by pure accident that he saw her watering the plants outside the small shop, thank you. 

             one afternoon, sun high and warm in the sky, he dares to slip inside. the unmistakeable smell of orchids and roses hits him right away and another step later he’s completely surrounded by a sea of green. there are a few customers occupying the small space of the shop, sniffing the flowers or paying for a beautiful bouquet with a small ‘happy birthday’ card sticking out. an old lady flashes roman a friendly smile when he moves aside to clear the exit. the guitar on his back collides with a bunch of petals, but luckily doesn’t knock any of the actual plant pots down. he surely would have to pay A LOT of money for the things he can break in here. nature is expensive. somewhere in the back of the room he spots a familiar looking brunette head, rearranging the flowers and making sure they’re still intact enough to be sold ( can flowers be intact? ). in a casual stride, one hand in his jeans’ pocket and lips curled upwards, he closes the distance within moments. 

              ❝ hello, ❞ he stops merely a few steps behind the petite girl, still smiling and tapping his index finger against the cup in his other hand. coffee. a latte, to be exact.

ft. @eigengrav

her hand shields her laugh from view, nose scrunched up as her eyes close shut in amusement. it’s a moment before she quiets down, a giggle escaping her last as rosy, sore cheeks and a grin are the only remnants of her fun. silence envelops them for a few seconds, but a comfortable one where she finds herself sipping from her beverage and giving a short gaze over to the surrounding park they sit in the center of. not one the size of central park, but far more private and less populated – perfect for the two to enjoy a day basking in the sun. she remembers something she thought of days ago, scooting closer on the blanket so she sits closer to ryker. her body stays facing the view behind her boyfriend but the position is good enough that she simply looks forward to meet his gaze. “ ryker? “ she didn’t plan how she’d bring this about, as no amount of planning really struck her as a way to be better equipt for the situation, but her pace slows down nonetheless. she smiles. “ i have a question. “ she holds her starbucks drink, thumb rubbing off the water from condensation before she sneaks a glance at ryker. 

ft. @eigengrav

a movie plays on the screen of her laptop but she lacks the attention needed to follow what’s happening as the plot progresses. no, her focus is elsewhere. on his hands more specifically. it’s without hesitation that she slowly reaches across and takes his hand, thoughts continuing to wonder about the scars he always hides under his jacket. anaïtis doesn’t know when the last one was made, has no idea at which point of this week or month or year ryker had that desire to hurt himself, and only hopes that the noticeable change with her boyfriend was an indication of progress – not deception.