#amongstdeadthings

I FIND THIS OFFENSIVE, YOU, IN ALL YOUR ARROGANCE, FORGOT TO MENTION OUR PERFECTLY SYNCED RECITAL OF THE PLEDGE OF ALLEGIANCE WHILE ELECTRIC GUITARS PLAY IN THE BACKGROUND. THAT’S THE BEST PART. ;P

lacrxmabilis rolled a dice with 45 sides, the dice showed: 11.

Virginia breathed heavily, her chest going up and down with certain difficulties. Her dress was soaked from the rain outside and now her lungs hurt every time she tried to breath, it was scaring her to no point. “Do you think— do you think it’ll get better?” she whispered to Sir Malcolm, who kindly offered to take a look at her. She didn’t know entirely about his medical experience, but he certainly had more experience than she.

It was too late to call a doctor, or at least a doctor that she could pay for. “I feel a strange sound when I breathe, right here… Can you hear it?” she pointed the right side of her chest in pure concern, he, seemed more than interest in examining it up close, his head went near her neck and the girl froze. He had never been so close to her, his beard was almost tickling her skin. She inhaled deeply when he asked her to, and exhaled at his orders. A deep silence, a long moment when she could only hear her own heart beat raising, the closeness what making her nervous, terribly nervous. Speechless, Virginia looked at him, whose cheek was now touching her chest.

+ amongstdeadthings

Sir Malcolm Murray's home was full of wonders. At least for Virginia, it was like entering a whole new world. The rooms were big, two of them could count as bigger than her whole house. Then the walls, a certain color scheme that seemed to be in harmony with the owner. Well-behaved hands held each other tightly, she started to shake in panic with the mere thought of breaking something. A single one of Sir Malcolm's possessions could be more expensive than anything she owned.

The tall, black man told Virginia to wait there, and she did after thanking him with a wide smile. Small steps explored the room, slowly, looking at the walls and the maps, oh the books. Sir Malcolm was by far the most interesting man she had ever known and she felt somehow grateful for that. It was something strange, for a man to take a slight interest in a girl like her with --presumably-- good intentions. Virginia didn't doubt of that, once someone extended a hand to her, the girl was able to swear eternal loyalty. Mister Murray was not the exception, she saw in him an exceptional man and considered him a friend. There were terrible times, when she was too scared to even speak, when everything she said came out as a broken whisper, she was so terrified of dying and facing consumption was a big challenge for her. What would she do without Sir Malcolm? Even with just his presence, she felt instantly calmed, instantly supported. He didn't need to speak, to smile, to talk to her or tell her comforting words. It was just him and what she considered, his friendship. He could be considered a cold person, but wasn't it even better? Whenever he showed a sign of empathy, she could tell, she could feel that it was true.

Of course, Virginia trusted everyone, she could see sweetness in the devil. Was that a gift? Was that a weakness? Who cares...? She'll die before she can be disappointed by the people she held so dear. The girl would be more that surprised to find out of some or Sir Malcolm's sins, sins that her mind couldn't even dimension properly.

The reason of her visit is vain, what makes her even more nervous. While shopping at the market, night caught her out of guard and away from home, it was cold outside what make her start to cough sickly. Her handkerchief was already soaking red, her skin a tad warm of fever and knees shivering. Virginia hates to show up in other's houses without permission or invitation, she hated to cross the line but this time fear was stronger.

☣ a warning letter

Respected Sir Malcolm,

I’ve found myself waking up at late hours to write this letter to you. I wish for it to come to your hands before your departure to a different continent. I thought that I could write letters to you more often, but sending correspondence to such remote places is surprisingly expensive difficult. 

You’ve been in my mind constantly in the most recent days, Sir Malcolm. You’ve taken my breath away, you’ve marveled me with your brave adventures in the new world. Today I happened to read an article about your dear Africa and men that went on quests similar to yours. I read that flowers there are astonishing, that can't be compared to what we see here. Is it too much to ask, sir, for you to bring me a small one? You can put it in your pocket, I don't mind if it withers in your way back. I'll be happy with just the dead reflection of its beauty.

I read interesting anecdotes, I say, my dear friend, that none of those stories are half as wonderful as yours, they lack your passion and will, they were only able to torment me. The illnesses that they have found there, the strange diseases. Oh, kind Sir… they narrated such disturbing scenarios in detail. How their bones, their flesh started to rot while they were still breathing— how quick, how slow and how painful those terrible effects could be. I had you in my mind, I had you in my mind all the time! And I could feel pain taking over my heart. The terror... the possibility of not seeing you again... I'll not be able to stand it. Is there something more awful, that dying slowly of an unstoppable illness? I know there's not. 

I apologize if you find this letter to be useless. I'd never underestimate your abilities, your strength, but please, I'm begging you to be careful. I'm guilty of being too sensitive, I'm guilty of caring too much about your well-being. You've done so much for me already that writing this concerned letter is the least I can do. I will forever regret not being able to give you a proper goodbye, I've never felt this urge to hug you and thank you for all the time you've spent on me, just a silly girl... please, give me the chance to see you once more, healthy and whole.

I already miss you. I do. I think it's important, to have someone who misses you. My best wishes, I know that you have great things to discover, my beloved sir.

Always yours, Virginia.

amongstdeadthings

There was a lot of speculation in regards to the disappearance of Sir Malcolm Murrays daughter. She had been gone for almost a year now. Just passing months without nothing coming up on her. Will was uncertain if he should be standing now in the mans home. He felt uncomfortable in the newly bought clothes. He was not a man made for such nice things. He was not used to them.

His mind had been built up for honesty, the words that fell from his lips were usually not lies, things that he could remember and repeat back without falter. But now here he stood with eager lies, ready, and willing.

There was guilt, gnawing at the back of his mind. Guilt is the worse kind of plague. But he knew the why, he knew why he was here. So he waited, waited for the man to come down. Waited to give hope.

Send me a “✦” and my muse will tell you:

4 different things they should have said to your muse, but never managed to

Things she wouldn’t say yet, but who knows, maybe she gets to say it one day. 

I. “Sir Malcolm, perhaps one day— if it isn’t too much trouble or too bold of me to ask, you could take me to one of your travels?” that with slight insinuations that he doesn’t have to worry if she doesn’t come back or if she contracts another disease. She’ll die anyway. However, she doesn’t have the courage to ask because anyone would say no. II. General, in-depth questions about Peter and Mina, about his wife. Virginia never had a father, he died when she was too young. It’s gossiping or a banal interest. She just wonders what drives a man his age to be so, technically, lonely. It’s a thing a she wouldn’t be able to stand. III. "Have you ever killed someone? What does it feel like? Are you afraid of death? Do you think that I have a chance to get better?" and a million other questions like that. Probably sensitive questions, sometimes silly things that a little girl would ask her father, most of the times, she looks for hope or more information about her fate in others. Not everyone likes to talk about it. IV. The “I think you’re a great man” or "You’re not bad, you’re just in a bad place" anything to make him feel better about himself. She sees the good in people, but saying what she thinks sometimes feels like crossing the line. Besides, the respect that she was towards Malcolm makes her stop herself from saying anything that he might consider stupid. 

First 3 things they ever noticed about your muse

I. His eyes and what, to her judgement, they reflect. Virginia firmly believes that eyes are the window of the soul. 

II. How sharply he dresses and speaks. It might intimidate her a little bit, a thing that gets better with time. 

III. Any kind word, any casual grin. That’s something that immediately catches her attention, especially coming from someone with such mysterious aura. 

2 things your muse does that pisses them off

I. I personally think that Virginia is sometimes difficult to stand. Malcolm shows himself apathetic sometimes, maybe cold, any cruel comment would not exactly piss her off, but it would make her sad, a tiny bit disappointed. 

II. Virginia is a middle-lower-class woman. She’s not used to men having servants or much less to humans (Africans) being spoke of as lower beings than other humans. She’s the kind of girl that would think “Can’t he open the door himself?”

1 thing they have always wanted to do with your muse

((Agreed. We should most certainly plot. :D ))