#beaststarved

a snicker tugs at his lips and vocal cords, a soft tch escaping him as he turns to face the fox-beast. " you do, do you? " memories fall back to the statue he's seen across the water -- the one on the bridge, tucked in among all of the other false gods that the people of eridia so love to revere. he's paid no attention to any other than that one -- the only one that matters, as far as he's concerned. only kuras' presence troubles him as much as vere's does, though it seems the latter has even more sway over the people here than the good doctor does.

" haven't heard a stereotype about creatures revered as gods in my time, but maybe you're willing to indulge me one of them. perhaps the people of eridia have stranger views than I'd thought. "

it wouldn't be the strangest thing he'd come across, though he does wonder what truths do lay behind the so-called myth of the creature that perhaps truly did stalk through eridia's streets once upon a time. all the thought poses is more questions however, and he figures a dimly lit alleyway in the middle of the evening -- and a few drinks deep -- isn't the greatest place for an interrogation.

The Haunting of Bly Manor Sentence Starters 𓂃｡⋆ ✧🪞 (accepting) . @beaststarved

Eh, spells backfire. It happens. So what if she's been working tirelessly for the last couple of days, or years, over it, jeopardizing her delicate beauty sleep over it, signing Faustian deals all over the place for the right materials over it. Sooo fucking what? She'll just pick herself back up, dust off her sore knees, and try again, like she's always been so great at doing.

Now if only he could get off of her.

The sparkling purple soot and smell of sour candy from the explosion — which had sent them spiraling backwards, and snarled thus — still hangs in the air. There's the ugly chittering of birds, too, another side effect. Her endless length of black hair is fanned out across the floor like spilled ink, and his hand's braced right next to her neck. He's pinned her down, deciding now's a better time than any to throw gasoline on a very cursed, very pretty fire.

She watches the golden flecks of her poor spellcasting work settle onto his shoulders.

unprompted — @beaststarved !

meme.

Send "Can't sleep" for a thought that might run through my muse's head about yours at 3 in the morning.

@beaststarved

Leander for Vere

Has to be the fourth time he's left me crumpled up in Kuras's doorstep in the last two months. I tell him to tear me apart, and he does. I'm not sure how he can't tell that I'm down horrendous about him. I mean, who else is letting him freak on them like that? I should ask Kuras. No, he'd tell me fuckall. Claim doctor-patient confidentiality or something, which is frankly bullshit when he's got a fucking gang leader restocking herbs for him like they're in some professional TPE situation they're playing out in front of other patients. I don't know. Maybe, him not knowing ... that's on purpose at this point. Maybe this is all it'll ever be, and I just have to accept it.

Adithep for Vere

oh no I’m being bitten

                            ❛      so  you're  telling  me  the  ears  are  real?      ❜            he  blinks  owlishly  at  the  strange  man,      eyes  flicking  up  towards  the  ears  in  fascination  before  his  hands  lift  with  fingers  curling  into  his  palm  as  if  he  were  already  imagining  touching  them.            ❛      can  i  touch  them?      ❜

The mellifluous lilt of his insincerity was objectively a pleasant sound, especially in consideration of the fact that he might have been rattling the bars of his cage with his tin cup or scratching his claws upon the stone walls, or singing mournful love songs off-key. If there had ever been a grandmaster in the art of offending the senses, Vere would have been their preceptor.

His objection was to irritate her—which, by all acounts, he was quite proficient at doing! Engaging him would be exactly what he wanted, and therefore not what she should ever indulge him in. And yet—

"Angry? .... No," Sen replied detachedly. Her pen had never faltered, never ceased its purposed flow upon the parchment before her. She hadn't even bothered to look up. "Any anger on my part would be a strictly personal sentiment. And we're all professionals here, aren't we?"

She set hed pen down with a deliberate care, and regarded him at last with gold eyes glittering in the flickering candlelight. "But I am disappointed." Her lips pursed in an effort to suppress her smile as she returned to her reports, but only for a moment.