#poensoror

he had to focus to keep  most  of his accent out of his words as he spoke. ‘‘ you’re from out of town, too? ’’ he asked slowly, something that was a vast difference to his usual speech. incessant rambling, someone might call it. ‘‘ merde. i was hoping you could help me find something. ’’

------  sent  by  @poensoror​

she was still not sure what to make of him,  after so many years,  and it hurt.  it was not the kind of hurt that had taken hold of her a few years ago when she had realised that  ( not for the first time )  brigid had fallen off the face of the earth without as much as a note because with brigid,  there was always the knowledge that no matter how far she strayed,  no matter how far she ran on her own,  she would be back  ---  maybe with a new haircut or a fresh accent,  but fundamentally unchanged.

maybe because for all their closeness,  brigid was not her sister.  maybe because there was a certain layer of sadness that elena could only touch when she thought about her family  ---  of those who were long gone and of the one who was standing in front of her.  the dead and the forgiven,  she might call them if she felt poetic about this,  but she was not sure about her own feelings,  not right now.  she would figure them out later,  she decided,  when she met up with frédéric and they would do their weekly workout together.  that tended to clear her head.

‘ ‘ it is indeed strange to see you here,  in one of my favourite cafés of all places,  yes. ’ ’  she nodded as she tugged on her sleeve,  her eyes avoiding his.  there was no manual for this,  nothing to outline how one had to act after meeting one’s brother after centuries  ( after having been accidentally killed by said brother );  it was a fact she had bemoaned before and that she would continue to whine about until the awkwardness had subsided,  something she did not think would happen anytime soon.  ‘ ‘ but  ---  rufus,  we can be adults about this,  right?  i just came to this city and  . . .  i’d like to stay for a while.  a lot of my friends are here. ’ ’

------ sent by @poensoror

anemone :   how does your muse view the world ;   as a cruel   &   unforgiving place ,   a land full of wonders ,   or something in - between ? where does that world view come from   (   what experiences ,   life lessons ,   etc .   ) ?  

over the course of her life,  elena has come to think of the world as a complicated,  curious place.  she has seen too much of the bad to be a wide-eyed idealist,  but she has also seen a lot of the enduring,  stubborn goodness in others.  as far as she is concerned,  to a certain degree,  the world is what she makes it.  she is privileged and single enough that she can shape her experience by making decisions of her own,  by making friends and by cutting ties,  by moving cities every few years . . . and she takes advantage of this.

magnolia :   describe your muse’s relationship with nature   &   the natural world .  

one cannot have been struck by lightning as often as elena was and not have some sort of relationship to the natural world.  it is harmonic --- she aims to live sustainably,  she tries not to kill any of the plants in her apartment  ( they are usually gifts from polite colleagues,  her friends have other ideas about what she might like )  and she does her best to live with nature rather than against it because she has been around for enough natural disasters to know that nature can very destructive.  she is still glad she did not make that trip to pompeii all those years ago.

zinnia :   how has the loss of fallen comrades and/or loved ones affected your muse ?   has it taught them anything or given them any new perspectives ?

the first person elena has lost --- truly lost --- was her younger brother.  it is something she has not spoken of frequently,  not even with her friends who know almost everything else there is to know about her,  but the incident between her and rufus has become something that she has buried deep. in this matter,  age brought wisdom.  eventually,  she forgave him for giving her the shove,  even if she has not forgiven herself for how she has handled the aftermath.  the realisation that rufus,  like her,  is still around in the 21st century was one she was not prepared for.  it is a lot.  not enough for her to step back from the lessons she has drawn from the incident,  but enough for her to require time to deal with this.

@poensoror​ sent:

"heya kiddo." rufus greeted from the couch. he was lounging around in dion's place still. he was Officially Fired from his bar job in boston, well. he quit but it felt like a firing to him. "your uncle is not here yet, he was running late. he said he'd text you, but i'm pretty sure he's driving and we both know how he is on phone calls." distracted and still unsafe for driving. "you ready for that show tonight?" bless beatrice because rufus was never interested in theatre. 

‘‘ as ready as one can be for this, ’’ beatrice said with a stage-worthy sigh as she sat down, ankles crossed neatly and her dress unharmed. this was maybe the part she liked best about this --- that she had an excuse to dress as nicely as she was capable of without feeling overdressed. maybe this was a tiny bit of childishness she had managed to keep over the centuries, that she liked to dress up and go places.

( only that whenever she used makeup, she managed to avoid looking like a clown. )

‘‘ ——rufus, why do you insist on being difficult about this? ’’ elena groaned, throwing her younger brother a look that was bound to accurately mirror just how exasperated she felt. it had been centuries since her body had aged and for the most part, she did believe in being only as old as she felt, but — right now, she felt her age. it was a strange feeling, she had to admit. unfamiliar. the last time she had felt like this had been at least thirty years ago, probably when brigid had gotten caught up in history and had shown up three weeks later, sporting a new scar.

( she always worried too much about brigid, had from the beginning. she had never had a younger sister, but she imagined that this was what it felt like — love and pride, mixed with trace amounts of frustration at times. )

her tongue clicked against her teeth as she slowly shook her head at her brother. 

look — she had not really asked to be made prefect. when she had gotten no letter in her fifth year, when the badges had been given to isaac and eleanor, she had felt no small measure of relief. a part of her might have wondered if maybe, the teachers had known that she did not always follow the rules as well as she should, but — she had rarely been caught, had only ever gotten detention when she had been a little too creative with a potion.

last summer, however, she had seen off the owl she had sent to eleanor to congratulate her on being quidditch captain for another year, and when she had turned around, there had been one of hogwarts’ owls — carrying the expected list of supplies she needed for her last year in school … and the prefect badge that had been eleanor’s, before, as she had figured out when she had heard that eleanor was headgirl, now.

she had groaned; she was friends with some of the school’s troublemakers and she had almost immediately gotten a headache. the same headache was coming back now — she had never wanted to catch her brother out past curfew, but there she was.

‘‘ the only failing for me to consider would be strolling down this hallway, ’’ she said with a grave sigh. ‘‘ rufus marlowe — please head to your common room and then to bed. i’ll be taking five points and … be happy i won’t mention this to our parents. ’’

In this day and age they had to be grateful for every dragon that still lived. He hated the idea of going extinct because of human superstition and greed as much as the next dragon. One could live out their greed without killing another being after all. During his heists he had never killed anyone or gotten noticed in the first place. Granted, that was not out of any pacifism on his part and more a practicality. If he wasn’t overly aggressive, the humans would feel less obligated to go after him or anyone else he still knew.