#starlingari

Damn, damn, DAMN! damn, Damn! This dress was rented– she could never afford something like this, and would never waste money on garb she’d only be wearing for one show. She’d already ditched her shoes when that cloud burst started, left them outside of that large gaudy door before entering; but still, ribbons tied up and around her arm so satin pointe shoes dangle hopelessly from her wrist, no way in Hell would she lose her favorite pair of ballet slippers…

The plit, plat, plud of wet toes and soles echoes through the dreary home: home to what or who, Arienette could only venture guesses towards. At the moment, she’s considering DUST BUNNIES or LOST SHADOWS… yet, out of polished politeness, the girl offers an introduction to the Someones or No ones who may be wondering the obvious: WHO DARES TO WELCOME THEMSELVES INTO A HOME THEY WERE DEFINITELY NOT INVITED INTO!?

“I am… I am quite so, so terribly sorry…” though spoken to the void, it’s no directed to the tulle of her skirt… damn, damn, damn, Arienette whines out loud in utter disappointment over the wet bundles falling to her side. Hard to tell if she’s more sorry for the intrusion than the state she’s in, but our darling presses on: timidly shifting weight from one foot to the other so she can lean back against the now-closed door and go to work flicking soaked curls out of her face– “There was a storm, you see, I… Well, I knocked, but nobody…” she fully grasps the inadequacy of such an excuse, the guilt of her faux pas weighing down and forcing her to go from tip-toes to flat footed atop marble floors. “Is– Is anyone there?”

careful, careful little kitten– sometimes a taste of the cream isn’t worth the curiosity, and we all know what happened to that damned cat…  

FROM THE DARKNESS RISES A TERRIBLE BEASTIE.          ALTHOUGH NOT SO TERRIBLE ON THE EYES ,        the  cardinal  is  less  ugly  to  those  that  see  beauty  in  their  world,   those  that  carry  soft  hearts  &  softer  skin .          cardinal  copia  smells  her  before  he  hears  her   ------   can  smell  the  sugary  sweetness  of  human  flesh  from  near  miles  away .      it  catches  him  in  the  glass - enclosed  garden  near  towards  the  back  of  the  manor,    hits  him  like  hunger  and  reminds  him  that  he  has  not  filled  his  gullet  in  quite  some  time .       the  dwelling  itself  was  warm  inside ,       much  too  warm  for  any  normal  mundane,    and  as  he  make  his  way  to  the  front  of  the  manor  sweat  begins  to  gather  at  his  temples  &  neat  little  moustache .  this  one  was  smaller  than  he  thought.     her  voice  carries  to  him  like  a hymn ,     melancholic  and  frivolous  in  the  same  girlish  panic .         poor  thing ,        the  cardinal  thinks .        despite  the  rather  off - putting  look  of  his  own  appearance  he  is  quick  to  greet  her  with  a  comforting  wave,   followed  by  a  soft      ‘ oh  hello ! ‘     to  put  the  little  pet  at  ease .       copia  knows  that  one  catches  more  flies  with  honey  than  vinegar .                    

❛ WELL,      at least we’ve ruled out that you are not a vampire!    come  in,   honey,   let  me  get  you  a  towel .       ❜              the  cardinal  does  not  encroach  on  the  girl  but  quietly  goes  to  close  the  door  to  keep  out  the  actual  vampires ,       slipping  it  locked  while  he  was  at  it .       what  a  darling  little  thing  she  was !        she’s  shivering,    teeth  clattering  against  one  another,   and  for  a  single  moment  he  simply  looks  upon  the  girl .     

If he’d been at home, Sarp would have spent a day off with Taso or Nilufer, eating breakfast at a cafe, spending the day at the park, cooking dinner together.  But even though he could have done all of those things by himself--Ari was off at some audition somewhere--it wouldn’t be the same.

📣📣📣  LISTEN UP YOU SMELLY WEIRDOS !! * yelling into a megaphone * .....

I LOVE @starlingari AND I WILL KILL ANYONE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

     These are the exact type of women that Akachan is paid thousands upon thousands of USD, or millions of yen, to scout. These beautiful wannabes, these types that are desperate for fame, who think highly of themselves, and who are vulnerable to falling for any opportunity presented to them.

      Akachan has been chosen to be a human trafficker for a reason. He’s very short, slim, and has kind-ish eyes, a kittenish mouth. If you ignore all the gold and tattoos, you’d hardly know he’s a gangster. Besides, in a Hawaiian button up the color of an egg yolk, he’s not the most threatening looking guy in the world. You can trust him, can’t you?

      He gives Arienette a crowded smile when he approaches her. His mouth is too small, he has too many teeth--it’s a crowded grin. “You tanning at four PM?” he tilts his head. Hotel pools. Always optimal. People on vacation are happier people--people less likely to see danger in others, people who feel sexy, who have been working out in preparation for a beach vacation, who have high confidence. Hawaii is a perfect state for this.

for every 😞 i get, my muse will be forced to tell a fact about themselves that they’re not proud of.