#mercifuldeath

//My Nicolas actually has a thread with @merciful-death‘s Louis where they met by accident in the 1970s and ended up having a kind of...relationship, if that’s the word you want to use. 

You can find it here:

That sounds very #Lestatuesque, share a picture with us if you have any! He does love gold and sequins and over the top patterns and !SPRAKLES! (which, really, is a much better way to spell “sparkles,” n’est pas?).

“Nux Vomica”, The Veils (x)

Am I living wrong?Do You see a long road with no one on itAnd the right of men that you learnt only to forgetYou see my sad wife and my high margin of profitAnd You don’t care at all, You don’t care at all

It’s been a strange year, and I have mostly been absent from this place, from speaking to you, dear readers, and I’d be lying if I told you that I hadn’t missed you terribly. 

But to some extent he’s requested a quiet year, and I have spent the last decade or so working to better respect these simple requests--so here we are. 

Normally, October in my city would herald a season of celebration and mischief, but this year seems somber. Even if it’s impossible to ever kill the spirit of New Orleans, it does get dampened once in awhile, and it is disheartening to see those who cavalierly flirt with fate and risk others simply for a night out or a drink with friends. 

But it has always been like this, hasn’t it? This isn’t your first plague, New Orleans. It won’t be your last. 

-pause-

Ah, but I meant to speak on Louis. 

Tonight is his birthday, which he is never fond of being reminded of, and which I take great pleasure in celebrating. And while we may not be going out (though this sickness cannot touch us), that doesn’t mean I cannot celebrate him in one way or another. 

Two hundred and fifty-four years since he appeared on this earth. Two hundred and twenty-nine years since I found him, playing Russian Roulette with his own life in a filthy riverside rattrap, and decided that I would make him mine. 

Little did I know who would belong to whom. 

For Louis, on the anniversary of his birth:

My lover is a Libra. Since the moment I met him--despite his slavishly inebriated status at the time--it was plain that he has an appreciation of justice and fairness that borders on obsessive. He cannot tolerate cruelty, pettiness, or passive-aggressive anger--though he is often guilty of all three. 

My lover is a Libra. He is an intellectual, an academic who has learned more than I could ever hope to keep up with, even with eternity at our fingertips. His love of literature and philosophy has ever been a thorn in my side--though it did, of course, take us several centuries to get to the bottom of why--and yet there is nothing that warms my heart more than to come home to find him there, alone, a book in his hands and the flame of a candle playing upon his fine features. 

My lover is a Libra, and I cannot imagine how difficult it must be, for that devotee of equilibrium and order to spend eternity by my side, forever thrust into a web of chaos that will never, despite his best efforts, find any sort of resolution or cede to his consistent attempts at grounding. And yet he continues to walk beside me, or sleep beside me, or even, in my worst moments, sit on the ground beside me. It is a mystery that I am thankful there is no answer to. 

Louis, you are the balm to my soul and the answer to the prayer I didn’t realize I was screaming at the heavens. While I cannot offer you order, and I am not sure I will ever be able to, I can extend to you the invitation to spend an eternity on a road filled with both surprises and pitfalls, but smoothed to some extent by the enormous love I have for you. 

MANY HAPPY RETURNS OF THE DAY, @merciful-death!!! You are one of my fav RP people ever and you are the bitch who got me into this place--then ABANDONED ME (just kidding, you’re amazing, I love you).