illusions & emotions

Send me a ‘✉’ for five times my muse didn’t text yours, and one time they did

[ Irene ] Am I a burden? [ Irene ] I know you care about me [ Irene ] But it can’t have been easy, taking care of a teenager [ Irene ] You were hurting too, and I wasn’t easy to be around [ Irene ] Father cared for you so much

“What I think matters little.”

Heart Emoji Fact/Confession

Send me a '♥' and for each one I get, I'll write a fact/confession about myself.

“There was a time where I was tempted to go back to New York, find my grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins and live with them. Now? I don’t know them anymore, not really, and now I don’t think I could ever leave Asphodel.”

Heart Emoji Fact/Confession

Send me a '♥' and for each one I get, I'll write a fact/confession about myself.

“I prefer dark chocolate bars to white chocolate bars, but I’d rather eat white chocolate based desserts to dark chocolate based desserts.”

Send me a ‘✉’ for five times my muse didn’t text yours, and one time they did

[ Irene ] Are you awake? [ Irene ] Are you at HQ? [ Irene ] Do you know where Dom went after [ Irene ] Do you have time to talk? [ Irene ] Are you awake right now?

~

“Oh Irene,” came the man’s response to his actions being called, considered, cruel. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind there’s a pounding, old and new beasts alike with their claws gnashing against the rusted steel door of Franklin’s goodness. He knew what cruelty was. From his own past and all the pasts he’d been forced to watch in movies and documentaries; he knew making a child cry from a silly little game was child’s play.

But outside his thoughts, looking back at the woman who to him was only an illusion of her former self, he knew she knew cruelty too. Enough about it to make a joke maybe, as straight faced as she was. His thoughts and response (something likely to be delivered with a facetious snippet of violent wisdom) are dropped entirely at the presentation of a palmier. How easy it could be to tame him sometimes – he strained to lean over and took a bite larger than he was sure she’d be happy with. Groaning at the taste of sugar against his tongue, he spoke through crumbs, “Have I ever been crowned Miss Louisiana?” With the roots of a smile, only needing her expression grow into a grin. 

“I wouldn’t waste my whole night being a terror to children, would I? I said a few hello’s, checked in with Queenie and Sir Montgomery, made sure our initiates aren’t getting cold feet, yadda, yadda, yadda.” He waved a hand in a lazy circle as he spoke, his uncaring manner of speaking just the opposite of how much he truly cared. The moment he showed how much he loved something, it would surely be stripped from him. “Now that you’re here I’ve seen everyone and we can have some real fun.” Whether he was referring to himself as ‘we’ or he was openly suggesting Irene join him was unclear, mostly because he did it often, but he started adjusting himself to slide off the counter.

“I bet you don’t like these huge crowds anymore than I do,” he sing-songed, voice low against the crowd as he stood and stretched at full height. As he pulled and cracked a few joints in his back he felt it, that yearly surge of ancient energy in the air. For a moment his ability surged and with half his mind on moths decorating his robe, the illusion of colorful moths rushing forward from his cloak came into view. “Oh-”, he laughed giddily, knowingly. “maybe we could do something about these numbers? A little illusion work, a little emotion manipulation, a little bit of a training moment, yeah? And-” he balled his hands into fists and opened them again, big green eyes wide at Irene, “do you feel that too?”

⟣◈⟢

Irene watched as he took a huge bite out of the treat— she’d expected that, at least. Osun may consider themself to be a whirlwind of energy, but they had nothing on Frankie. Frankie is a swirling tornado of danger and chaos. She sees kindness in him too, and compassion that she was sure he didn’t always give himself credit for, but that wasn’t what people ever saw first with him. For better or for worse. 

His quip brought an unwilling smile to her face, and the glint of mischief in her eyes only made it seem wider than it actually was. It was easier, to smile around people who’d known her for so long, and it was easier while surrounded by such excitement and happiness. As he continued to speak, Irene’s lips twitched into a smirk that she quickly suppressed. Sir, Queenie, the irreverent way Frankie referred to them was always refreshing: it reminded her that they were just that, people. Not just her head of house, or the man who near everybody in Endine turned to for support— but people. 

As he stretched, Irene felt a familiar surge of power within her, and for a moment she felt it all. The giddy laugh that escaped Frankie threatened to pull a similar laugh from her as well— the way her magic swelled within her never failed to make her feel a little heady, if only for a moment. “Of course I feel it,” she whispered.

She took a moment to make it look as though stars were falling from above, and that pieces of the pavement below was floating up, flaking off into bits of golden dust as she turned to meet Frankie’s eyes, before quickly dispelling the illusion. “A training exercise?”

Dom felt a mixture of emotions at that moment. Frustration - he didn’t understand why these girls insisted on taking their pictures, for what purpose would it serve them? Yes, he’d been shown those “fan accounts” ( the very thought of it made him shudder ), but didn’t they realize their actions could already constitute outright stalking? Honestly, did no one respect their sense of privacy anymore? 

Second, oddly enough, was amusement, Dom leaning back lazily as he watched as Irene step forward, her intent clear and message succinct. He bit his lip to stop a laugh from bursting forth when their “stalker” scrambled backwards from Irene’s diminutive form, the girl probably heads taller than his friend but nothing was honestly quite as scary than a pissed of Irene Caruso. 

“How frightening.” Dom spoke dryly, as Irene turned back to him, his eyes sparkling with humor. “Thanks for defending me, Irene. I feel so protected.” He spoke teasingly, affectionately, a rare warmth radiating from Dom, allowing him to relax, even for just a few seconds. “I’m honestly okay, I wanna see what else Monty had planned, but if you really want to leave you know I won’t object.” 

⟣◈⟢

An eyebrow rose in response to Dom’s dry words, and she crossed her arms, daring him to say anything more on the subject. Still, her own eyes were filled with mirth too, and before long an easy smile had begun to spread across her face, the momentary annoyance quickly fading. “A knight in shining armor, that’s what I am.” She didn’t think she’d ever understand the lengths some of the people here go to when following Dom, but they’d learned long ago how to make light of it.

Her eyes surveyed the area around them, noting the ones glancing their way, the kids she recognized, the kids she didn’t, and the array of people that seemed to move in and out of her line of sight. The Summer Solstice celebrations were always fun, but there was something about festivals and street fairs that simply worked so well in Asphodel. Her eyes caught dark brown hair, and she spun her head around, wondering if it was Rebecca. “I’m surprised we haven’t managed to catch the eyes of one of our Sentinels.” From what they’d been told, she’d been prepared to deal with a bodyguard— not that she was complaining. She wasn’t. It was nice to have some time away.

Irene nodded as he continued to speak, conceding the point. “It wouldn’t be fair if we left without experiencing more of what Monty and the others worked so hard on.” Irene knew she’d feel a little guilty, and they couldn’t disappear just yet. Their faces still had to be seen, even it was for just a little while longer. They comparatively had the easier job; they just had to make themselves seen. It was everybody else who had more of a difficult role to play this time around. “Well, then, where do you want to start?”

@irenehqs​

There was a slight flush on Theodore Clairmont’s cheeks, though it could have just been the summer heat of Louisiana.

Or it could be the bouquet of flowers he held delicately in one hand.

Truthfully, he wasn’t quite sure why he’d felt the need to stop by a flower stand on his way to the second day of the solstice celebration. And such confusion in his own actions only grew when the shopkeeper asked what occasion the flowers were for. For Irene, he’d answered, hand awkwardly lifting to rest on his neck, as if that somehow explained everything. I heard the Summer Solstice is like a graduation… so she needs flowers.

In his quest to play matchmaker for Dominic, he’d heard about Irene’s past, including the tragedy that fell upon her family. And then he’d ended up at the flower stand, as if guided by an invisible hand, pointing at the the most grand bouquet he could find. His own parents hadn’t been present for his high school graduation, and while they’d sent plenty of lavish gifts, he hadn’t been able to help but wish they’d attended, instead. Even if only with a bouquet of flowers.

Except somewhere in there, he’d been misled, and it was only minutes before the ceremony ended did he realize the graduation was not Irene’s. But it didn’t stop him from shouting her name as he spotted her, free arm waving wildly.

⟣◈⟢

The ceremony had yet to start, and while she’d done this a number of times, it would always be a little nerve-wracking. Although, if this was nerve-wracking for her, she wondered what it was like for Dietrich. For kids it was different, just another stuffy thing to sit through. For newer members, who were older, she figured there might be more weight to these things. 

And so she stood, close but not inside the area in which the ceremony was to be held. There were some last minute rearrangements being made, and she’d learned as a child to stay well away from those on a mission, especially during the Solstice. The child she had been was often knee-deep in mischief, but she was aware that playing around during these sorts of events only brought trouble that really wasn’t worth the risk or thrill.

Her idle contemplation was brought to a halt by a voice shouting her name and she glanced around, trying to figure out where exactly the voice was coming from. It wasn’t a member of Endine, of that she was certain, unless it was one of the children that she hadn’t had much interaction with— but no the voice was deeper. Her eyes finally fell upon— no. Absolutely not. 

Making his way towards her, half his body covered by a frankly ridiculous bouquet of flowers, was Theodore Clairmont. She’d never regretted her life decisions more, but she made no move to leave, nor did she make any move to meet him halfway. It was funny, watching him struggle, and she figured she deserved it after their appalling first meeting. When he was finally close enough, she simply crossed her arms. “Yes?”

Irene Fei Caruso: Some pieces of the puzzle

An heir of House Endine, born in New York, veterinary student, alive.

-

Irene was one of the tougher nuts to crack, and though he tries not to make it his business to be the person that breaks their walls down, hers is a case unique from his experiences. Suspect interrogations, he can deal with; he never has to worry about them once they go to court or even what happens after that, though that doesn’t make the job any easier. The tragedy that fell upon the Caruso family, however, is survived by stories all but sung in the key of a scandal to passing travelers and families looking to settle into the neighborhoods. It continues to haunt Asphodel the way only the reminder of mortality could to Gifted and Null alike, so much so that the stories start to feel like just stories, and Irene starts to feel like a ghost.

Even now, standing next to her, flesh and bones and hair and a pulse that’s still very much there, he may as well be speaking to air. Even her voice, her words—expressly responding to him—sounds like a frequency lost in white noise.

The best he can do is to feed that energy until it materializes into something palpable again.

“You know, I’ve never had one of these things.” Lifting his gaze from the half-empty cup in his hand, his eyes seek out her frame like she’d just disappear if he looked away a second longer. Either turn to dust or just walk away out of boredom. “Initiations, I mean. Never joined a  House so I just go for the food.” A question pushes forth, then, “You remember what your Solstice was like?”

⟣◈⟢

Irene met his gaze evenly. She’d learned to do so long ago, after all an Heir who could not meet the eyes of those whom she was talking to would only give the air of someone who was weak. Endine didn’t need weakness. Some days it was easier than others, but that was the case with all things; besides, Balian’s gaze was often heavy. It held weight and purpose, and there were times where she felt like he was looking through her completely— maybe that was just the nature of a detective’s stare. 

Her fingers traced the ridges and bumps of the toy before she pocketed it, tracing its silhouette once to make sure it was exactly where she’d placed it. She stepped forward slightly, deftly moving out of the way of a man with far too many beignets balanced on his too small coffee cup. It was a recipe for disaster— but the man quickly left her mind at his question. “I didn’t like the dress mother made me wear. It itched in all the wrong places.” She quickly was lost to the memories. “But it was my first time seeing all of this in Asphodel— the first time Endine at all was in Asphodel. That year they held a street fair like this, and I think I was far more taken by the pastries and the food than the actual ceremony.”

She didn’t remember much of the ceremony now, just the tone of voice of the Endine head of house as he droned on and on— although she also remembered the wink that was thrown her way as she fidgeted. She remembered Rebecca somewhere, talking to her father. She remembered Beatrice’s hand in her own, her grasp tight for someone so young. It was all new and exciting— but she also remembered missing everybody from New York, as much as a child could. “I think my eyes went wide when I saw my first beignet being made fresh during the festival.” She turned her smile towards Balian, memories having made her demeanor slightly melancholic and yet softer than normal. “The food is always worth it, so I promise you’ll get no judgement from me.”

@irenehqs​ ( event starter. )

Although he wasn’t a big fan of them, Silver was absolutely convinced that he would ace all and any of the fair’s games; just by looking at them they felt incredibly easy ( even knowing that they were probably all rigged ) and actually fun - to the point where he actually decided to try his hand at one of them… Just to get absolutely wrecked by some kid who looked no older than nine, maybe ten years old and gave him the nastiest, most self-satisfied smile he ever saw on a child before leaving with their prize. He had to fight the urge to stick his tongue out at them; instead he just turned his back on the booth, going into the absolutely opposite direction to even accidentally avoid the kid who absolutely wrecked the remainder of his dignity.

He already knew that he’s gonna spend the night sulking over his failure - his attention shifted from his surroundings to making up an evil plan of getting back at the kid for wrecking his ego ( a thing he’d never actually do, but hey, a man could dream about revenge ); maybe that was the reason why didn’t notice at first that he was walking straight at someone, finally almost crashing into them in his angry speed-walking moment. Only that got him out of his thoughts in the end, as he lifted his head to actually look at who he crashed into - and welcome her with a wide smile.

“Irene! Sorry for crashing into you like that.” He almost anxiously tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, contemplating whether to tell her about his spectacular failure or not; but in the end he just opted for the small talk option first - the rant could wait until later as it was the last thing Silver wanted to do: to hold Irene up with such stupid little things when she might’ve had things to do. “How are you? Haven’t seen you since the vanilla-strawberry latte, was it that terrible?”

Festival games were not Irene’s forte, but she felt obligated to play at least one during the Summer Solstice. It almost felt wrong to not have spent a Solstice playing at least one game, and she was pleasantly surprised when she managed to win a prize. She was well aware that many of these games were rigged against the players, although her aim was pretty good, and perhaps years of playing these games might have finally paid off. 

No, she didn’t actually believe that— she was probably just lucky. Irene quietly passed the toy off to a random child before weaving through the crowd, aimlessly wandering through the area. She spun around, her hands snapping forward to steady whomever had crashed into her, her slightly annoyed expression morphing into an easier smile as she recognized the other person. “It’s fine, it’s alright.”

Silver was someone she knew somewhat well— it was inevitable, seeing as she spent so much time at Witches’ Brew. He often made her interesting drinks, and it made her study sessions far more exciting. “I’ve been busy, and that latte wasn’t so bad. It had just needed more coffee.” The drink she’d had that day tasted more like a warm strawberry milk, and while that was nice it wasn’t what she’d needed. “How about you? And happy Solstice.”

“Gotta love a healthy appetite!” Levi said cheerfully, once again identifying another Heir, but this time from a different House - Endine. The relative newcomers to the Asphodel scene. She too was a regular customer of Cake Stars, but not as frequent as that counterpart of hers…the tall boy with poof for hair, who always averted his eyes when Levi attempted to engage him in conversation but seemed oddly touched when Levi remembered his favorite order and set the last piece of the day aside for him - if “touched” meant being reduced to a red-faced, stammering mess. “Have you tried our apple cinnamon rolls? They add a bit of fun tartness to each bite. I highly recommend it.” Levi patted his stomach in demonstration as he spoke.

A small smile crossed Irene’s face at Levi’s exuberance; it’s nigh impossible to not crack a smile at the other man’s cheer. It took being in her worst moods to stay unaffected— although there were often times where his happiness was a bit much for her. “No I haven’t. They sound good.” And they did, they really were tempting— she could save one of the cookies for tomorrow too, and the muffin for dinner. “I’ll have one of those too.” She’d have to hide them once she got home. “Have you been enjoying the festivities? Or have you not had much of an opportunity to explore?”