#queenifice

Hope had been sitting down at the docks one night. Her feet splashed in the cool water below. Her mind was on everything from what was going on in New Orleans to how she would save her loved ones. Bringing everyone back to life was a challenging feat to accomplish. Many witches had tried, and few had actually won. Necromancy is frowned upon. But Hope was a freak of nature already, so she hardly had an issue with messing with the balance. Her whole life had been dedicated to getting her ALWAYS & FOREVER.

A silky voice comes from behind, and Hope turns at the hip to look behind her. Hope knows that she should feel bad about feeding on a human—like she had Alysanne—but she rarely does. In fact, it is only in these softer, caring moments that Alysanne does that Hope's guilt boils over.

❝ I was just thinking about home. ❞ Maybe it's because she weirdly trusts Alysanne, but her cajun accent started appearing when they were alone. Hope had taught herself to cover any trace of MIKAELSON in her bones, including something as simple as an accent that shows where she lived. ❝ The funny thing is that home used to feel like a place, but I realized it was something inside me. ❞ Hope carried her people with her wherever she went.

It started as a magical outburst in the middle of the night: glasses shattering, lights flickering, the foundation of the vacation home shaking, &, worse, aggression. Hope had thrown Alysanne across the room to be pinned against a wall. The tribrid's eyes were amber as she stood there with a stone-cold face tightening her magical grip around the other's body, all while still not fully aware of her surroundings at first. She thought it was the devil, Greta. Ultimately, she came to her senses in time not to cause permanent harm to the other party.

Hope rushed to the bathroom as Alysanne's body fell to the floor with a thump. Tears eventually flowed down pale cheeks with such ease that it was unnerving. Hope's whole body was shaking as she slammed the bathroom door shut. Long fingers find the facet to turn on the cold water that turns on. The sound of running water didn't drown out the thoughts inside of her head. You're a monster. You could have killed her. You never learn, do you?

Water soaks her shirt as she splashes cold liquid onto her face. Against her warm skin, it feels like an ice cube, but she welcomes it. Hope had always been led to believe that she was a monster. Not by her family, pack, or friends but by the outside forces. Alaric was the more prominent voice inside of her head on that front.

I am damaged beyond repair. I could have. . I. . . Hope's brain couldn't even figure out what it wanted to tell her to make things worse. ❝ You should be scared of me. I hurt you. ❞ Blue eyes look for bruising along the other's body from fingers to neck. Only when she honed in did all sense of remorse fade away. A large growl could be heard from her stomach as Hope's under eyes grow the deep dark veins that are a sure sign of hunger. As a vampire, every emotion tends to lead back to this bloodlust.

❝ You smell like dinner. ❞ Hope has always had reasonable control over her bloodlust, but everyone eventually falters. Tonight wouldn't be a nightmare when it comes to a feed.

👑 @queenifice ——— sent this meme.

NAME: Alyssa Targaryen.

GENDER: Female.

GENERAL APPEARANCE: Rich dark curls that go to her waist, deep purple eyes, tall and slender.

PERSONALITY: A complete force of nature, hot-headed, ambitious with the ability to charm anyone.

SPECIAL TALENTS: Skilled dragon rider, proficient at sword fighting enough to protect herself if needed.

WHO THEY LIKE BETTER: Definitely a daddy's girl who worships Daemon but she's closer to Alysanne.

WHO THEY TAKE AFTER MORE: Daemon, definitely. She inherited a fair few of his traits, mostly his worst ones.

PERSONAL HEAD CANON: Bonded with the dragon of her mother's namesake, Silverwing, riding the she-dragon at the age of nine. She then takes any opportunity while visiting the North to search for her own direwolf, like her mother has.

FACE CLAIM: Amy James-Kelly.

——— 👑 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒, 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐃 and nearly one hundred thousand Dothraki, Daenerys Stormborn is not naïve enough to think that is enough to take all Seven Kingdoms and the Lannister Queen that sits on its throne.

Helaena is muttering to herself always with the muttering. None of it is distinct none of it makes sense it seems to just sound like nothing. She no longer does her stitching or her reading just sits in front a window muttering to the clouds. They would try to make her eat but she only would in small portions when others were gone. Even then that was just when she had to and sleeping? No chance. When she slept she could see it happen again Blood and Cheese. A knife at her neck and having to decide having to kill her son.

A  STARTER  FOR  @queenifice from aegon targaryen

           AEGON  TWIRLED  THE  CATSPAW  DAGGER  IN  HIS  HAND  AS  HE  SAT  ON  THE  THRONE.  IN  a  sense,  not  much  had  changed  since  his  father  had  passed.  Sure,  Aegon  sat  the  throne  but  it  was  his  Grandsire  and  his  Mother  who  handled  most  of  the  daily  tasks  of  running  a  kingdom.  He  was  told  what  to  say  and  when  to  say  it.  He  used  to  hate  the  way  his  family  fussed  over  him,  trying  to  control  his  every  move  as  if  he  wouldn't  just  slip  away  the  second  they  let  their  guard  down.  But  he  didn't  mind  it,  being  told  what  to  do  was  better  than  having  to  write  the  speeches  himself.

           One  thing,  however,  was  different.  Aemond  had  been  gone  for  some  time  now.  After  his  hiccup  in  Storm's  End,  he  had  been  sent  North  to  try  to  form  an  alliance  with  the  Northmen.  Aegon  would  have  gone  himself  but  the  risk  was  too  high.  His  younger  brother  had  been  gone  a  while,  longer  than  planned.  No  one  knew  why  until  he  arrived  in  King's  Landing  with  an  extra  passenger.