exthne

"And you are?"

❱❱   like for a starter!

   "  Le Louis XV at 7:30.        Tell them I sent you.  "

A beat. Food. She then realizes that she’s in god damn Monaco  and has no idea what she can do aside from talk to this guy.  But also — food.

         ”Hm. Alright, you’ve got yourself           a deal.”

libxrum ; albywrites ; littlemissredriding

       "  Yes?  "

 "  It's no trouble really.        I'm Alexandre.  "

            ❝ Usually I wouldn’t ask for any help… But I’m really               grateful for this… I’m Snow by the way… ❞

"  Brilliant.  "       he mutters    "  What if we discus        this over dinner?  "

          “It’s just Elis. Also…            At this point? Very slim.”

 "  Can I help you?  "

solxbus ; exthne ; achroix

      "   The pleasure is all mine, miss. "

"   In my time,    I've found it's    just as important    what you don't say.  "

"I said nothing." Nico said smirking.

"  I could feel   your gaze boring   into my skull.  "

        Not having smoked a cigarette         in a while makes him do things         like stare at people who have         one lit between their lips.

        He’s not meaning to: it’s just         that he can’t help it.

    ❛  … What? I wasn’t looking          at you.  ❜

   "  Miss Yorke.           What are the chances           you're going to give me           the answers I want           during this conversation?  "

         ”That’s the attitude          that pays my bills.”

           "  That is the attitude that                brought you to me in the                first place.  "

         ”Nope. Well, not yet at least.         Give me a computer with an         internet connection and we’ll         see what I can do. Heh.”

nightxmxre ; emersuslupus ; mistxkesmade

    "  Yes?  " he can feel eyes looking at him.

   "  So you don't actually        have the incriminating        photos of me, then?  "    But now she knows they exist.

Archetypes: | MACHIAVELLI’S PRINCE

He is beloved and he is feared, and he walks among his people armed with cold steel and kind words. There is a massacre ready behind his eyes and war written on his body. He is above honour but not deceit, for though he fears no evil and will bow to no god, all others must or suffer his wrath. He hunts for glory like lesser men hunt for freedom. Maps of his lands roll out beneath his fingertips, and with his eyes closed he can trace every line of the blood, love and dread upon which he builds his empire. He knows his land and his people as a sailor knows the tide. Fate’s fickle fingers cannot drag him to the shadows, for his will is the stronger. He is to become the architect of a new world, written in among the dire myths of those gone before. Oblivion is his only fear.

He is Alexander, he is Caesar; he is war, he is conqueror.

          “Well, if that’s the case, then           you’ll be pleased to hear that           I am totally, completely just           fucking with you.”

"  If there were inopportune photos    of you floating out in the world    somewhere, especially if you     were in my position, wouldn't you?  "

         ”Are you legitimately upset about this?”