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princesssarisa · 4 years

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from @cinefantasticquemitho, for the fictional character asks: Juliet Capulet

@cinefantastiquemitho accidentally answered my ask as a private message instead of a post, so I’m copying and pasting her answer here.

Favorite thing about them: The apeal of Juliet is that she is one of the earliest examples of a young rebel being portrayed positively in western literature. She lives in a world that was screwed over by the violence of the adults around her, and is one of the few people in the story who is inteligent anough to not see this violence as something natural, and question it. Another interesting element of Juliet is that, troughout the play, she learns to be very cunning and witty. Now usually, this characteristics (specially in a female character) would be portrayed as the start of a path to villany, where a character would use them to gain power over the unhapiness of others (think of Tamora and Aaron the Moor, the Macbeths, Richard III, Iago and Edmond). But in Juliet’s writing, she is still the heroine of the story, who as a young woman in the Renaissance, is justified to use cunning and witty as a means of trying to survive and find happiness for her and Romeo, the person she loves, in a world where she lacks power. And this cunning and witty, contrary to the most popular belief, does not contradict her loialty, with is another important characteristic that she shows in relation to her beloved husband Romeo.

Least favorite thing about them: Actually, i don’t have a least favorite thing about Juliet herself. In reality, when i was young and was only familiar with the play trough parodies in pop culture, without actually having readed or watched the play properly, i disliked a caricature of Juliet, that stereotyped her as just “a cute girl who is there to suffer”. Later, when i actually readed and watched montages of the play online, i saw that this wasn’t at all the actual character that Shakespeare wrote.

Favorite line:

So many, is hard to choose just one.

“My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me, That I must love a loathed enemy”.

“Ay me!

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.

‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What’s Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What’s in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee Take all myself”.

“ O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.

Do not swear at all; Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, Which is the god of my idolatry, And I’ll believe thee”.

“The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse; In half an hour she promised to return. Perchance she cannot meet him: that’s not so. O, she is lame! love’s heralds should be thoughts, Which ten times faster glide than the sun’s beams, Driving back shadows over louring hills: Therefore do nimble-pinion’d doves draw love, And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. Now is the sun upon the highmost hill Of this day’s journey, and from nine till twelve Is three long hours, yet she is not come. Had she affections and warm youthful blood, She would be as swift in motion as a ball; My words would bandy her to my sweet love, And his to me: But old folks, many feign as they were dead; Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead”.

“Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, Brags of his substance, not of ornament: They are but beggars that can count their worth; But my true love is grown to such excess I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth”.

“Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Towards Phoebus’ lodging: such a wagoner As Phaethon would whip you to the west, And bring in cloudy night immediately. Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, That runaway’s eyes may wink and Romeo Leap to these arms, untalk’d of and unseen. Lovers can see to do their amorous rites By their own beauties; or, if love be blind, It best agrees with night. Come, civil night, Thou sober-suited matron, all in black, And learn me how to lose a winning match, Play’d for a pair of stainless maidenhoods: Hood my unmann’d blood, bating in my cheeks, With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold, Think true love acted simple modesty. Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night; For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night Whiter than new snow on a raven’s back. Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow’d night, Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun. O, I have bought the mansion of a love, But not possess’d it, and, though I am sold, Not yet enjoy’d: so tedious is this day As is the night before some festival To an impatient child that hath new robes And may not wear them”.

“O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face! Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave? Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical! Dove-feather’d raven! wolvish-ravening lamb! Despised substance of divinest show! Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st, A damned saint, an honourable villain! O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell, When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend In moral paradise of such sweet flesh? Was ever book containing such vile matter So fairly bound? O that deceit should dwell In such a gorgeous palace”!

“Blister’d be thy tongue For such a wish! he was not born to shame: Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit; For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown’d Sole monarch of the universal earth. O, what a beast was I to chide at him!

Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?

Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name, When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it? But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin? That villain cousin would have kill’d my husband: Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring; Your tributary drops belong to woe, Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy. My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; And Tybalt’s dead, that would have slain my husband: All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then? Some word there was, worser than Tybalt’s death, That murder’d me: I would forget it fain; But, O, it presses to my memory, Like damned guilty deeds to sinners’ minds: 'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo—banished;’ That 'banished,’ that one word 'banished,’ Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt’s death Was woe enough, if it had ended there: Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship And needly will be rank’d with other griefs, Why follow’d not, when she said 'Tybalt’s dead,’ Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both, Which modern lamentations might have moved? But with a rear-ward following Tybalt’s death, 'Romeo is banished,’ to speak that word, Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet, All slain, all dead. 'Romeo is banished!’ There is no end, no limit, measure, bound, In that word’s death; no words can that woe sound”.

“It is, it is: hie hence, be gone, away! It is the lark that sings so out of tune, Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps. Some say the lark makes sweet division; This doth not so, for she divideth us: Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes, O, now I would they had changed voices too! Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, Hunting thee hence with hunt’s-up to the day, O, now be gone; more light and light it grows”.

“ Art thou gone so? love, lord, ay, husband, friend! I must hear from thee every day in the hour, For in a minute there are many days: O, by this count I shall be much in years Ere I again behold my Romeo”!

“Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again. I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins, That almost freezes up the heat of life: I’ll call them back again to comfort me: Nurse! What should she do here? My dismal scene I needs must act alone. Come, vial. What if this mixture do not work at all? Shall I be married then to-morrow morning? No, no: this shall forbid it: lie thou there. [Laying down her dagger] What if it be a poison, which the friar Subtly hath minister’d to have me dead, Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour’d, Because he married me before to Romeo? I fear it is: and yet, methinks, it should not, For he hath still been tried a holy man. How if, when I am laid into the tomb, I wake before the time that Romeo Come to redeem me? there’s a fearful point! Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault, To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in, And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes? Or, if I live, is it not very like, The horrible conceit of death and night, Together with the terror of the place,— As in a vault, an ancient receptacle, Where, for these many hundred years, the bones Of all my buried ancestors are packed: Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth, Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say, At some hours in the night spirits resort;— Alack, alack, is it not like that I, So early waking, what with loathsome smells, And shrieks like mandrakes’ torn out of the earth, That living mortals, hearing them, run mad:— O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught, Environed with all these hideous fears? And madly play with my forefather’s joints? And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud? And, in this rage, with some great kinsman’s bone, As with a club, dash out my desperate brains? O, look! methinks I see my cousin’s ghost Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body Upon a rapier’s point: stay, Tybalt, stay! Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee”.

“Yea, noise? then I’ll be brief. O happy dagger! [Snatching ROMEO’s dagger] This is thy sheath; [Stabs herself] there rust, and let me die”.

brOTP: In the plays actual text, we see her being great friends and partners with the Nurse, and get some insinuations that Tybalt, her cousin, was also a very close friend to her. The TV series Still Star Crossed gaved to her a close friendship with her cousin Rosaline, what i apreciate very, very much. And i also like to imagine that in a Everybody Lives!AU she would be very close friends with Benvolio Montague.

OTP: With Romeo Montague.

nOTP: With Count Paris and/or Tybalt Capulet.

Random headcanon: 1. Her favorite colors are red, orange, white and gold; 2. Her favorite story from greek mithology is Eros and Psyche; 3. Her favorite fairy tale is Jack and the Beanstalk; 4. In a Modern Day Everybody Lives!AU Juliet graduates in Philosophy, Psychology and Social Services and becomes a social worker, focused on atend teenage girls and women living at risk of suffering abuse or on abusive situations/child attorney. For more details about it, here is the link for the list of ideas about a Happy Ending Modern Day! AU made in collaboration with @giuliettaluce :

https://cinefantastiquemitho.tumblr.com/post/617097864129200128/modern-headcanon-romeo-and-juliet

Unpopular Opinion: Well, i like some elements of the Zefirelli 1968 movie adaptation: the costumes are beautifull to look at, Nino Rota’s score is the worlds eight wonder of an icon, the casting choice (specially of Leonard Whiting and Olívia Hussey as Romeo Montague and Juliet Capulet, respectivelly) is pretty spot on… Buuuut: with the cutting of lines like the “Gallop apace” soliloquy, the lines where she reflects, deduces and concludes that Tybalt started the fight against Romeo with the intention of killing him and the “Potion” soliloquy, i think it reduced a lot of the huge inteligence that Juliet actually has, and with its extremely huge popularity it ended up contributing with the pop culture stereotyped idea that Juliet is just a “cute girl who is there to suffer”.

Song i associate with them: Flor, Minha Flor, by Grupo Galpão de Teatro (from the soundtrack of my favorite Romeo and Juliet montage)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=koIO15cI-8Y

And Nino Rota’s What is a Youth, from the 1968 Franco Zefirelli film:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7VsgolqoeJw

Favorite picture of them:

#cinefantastiquemitho #fictional character ask #romeo and juliet #juliet #other people's writing

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badnovels · 6 years

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Surprise Birthday Drabbles!

To celebrate this special day, we cooked up two Everlark drabbles just for you! Enjoy! <3<3<3

Love always,

Jackie & Caryn

The Garbage Will Do by JennaGill

Modern Everlark AU, featuring a scavenger from Jakku and lowly radar technician. I just couldn’t leave this idea alone and hope you like it! Happy Birthday Jessa!

********

“C’mon Peeta, you promised,” she said through the bathroom door, fidgeting with her middle bun. A bobby pin shook loose, and she wished she’d been more attentive while her mother arranged her hair. She grabbed another from the dresser and secured her hair hiding the elastic. She checked the top and bottom buns, fussing with the details of her favorite character.

“I dunno Katniss,” wafted between the crevices, spreading tendrils of doubt that they could pull this cosplay off at the Capitol ComicCon. “It’s a lot, Katniss. I’m Kylo acting as Matt, poorly, and I just want to be me.”

She straightened her muslin bindings and wrapped on the door with her staff. He promised this for her birthday and there was no backing down now. “I haven’t had my muffin yet, Matt!” she bellowed through the thin veneer, shoulders squared up to face him.

“Fine! Could you please not yell at me, you’re stressing me out!” Peeta huffed and stepped through the door, a vision in a beige jumpsuit, safety orange vest, over-sized glasses, and wayward ashy blond waves grown out especially for today. “You can’t even see how shredded I am in this,” he muttered and stomped across the room, grabbing his wrench.

“There’s my Undercover Star Killer Base Boss,” she drawled, proud of his transformation. She hooked her finger under his stiff collar and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek. “If you keep this up Matt, I’ll treat your light saber right tonight…”

He hummed in approval, “Lead the way, Mrs. Radar Technician, lead the way.”

******************************************************************************

The Seventh Floor by Papofglencoe

A/N: Modern AU Everlark ficlet. Rated M/Eish? Basically this is just library porn, with a nod to a mutually beloved author (who would be appalled by this). Happy birthday, Jessa!

****************************

She watched, her mouth hanging slightly agape in shock at the sight of him, as he strode past the circulation desk and jabbed the call button for the staff elevator.

A goddamn masterpiece. That’s what he was, his wavy golden hair and the t-shirt stretched taut over his thick, muscular shoulders damp from getting caught in the summer squall outside. A fucking Picasso. Or a Renoir. Or… or one of the other names she really should have paid more attention to in any of the countless art museums in D.C. that she’d been dragged into in the past couple years. None of the masters she could think of now came anywhere close to capturing his beauty.

As the elevator descended, groaning on its ancient cables, Katniss had the ridiculous thought that even the machinery was bowing to him, drawn to him not because it was summoned, but from the magnetic pull of simply wanting to be near him, prostrate at his feet.

When the rheumatic elevator doors finally wheezed open, after what seemed like three delicious years of gaping at his ass, he glanced over his shoulder toward her. His shockingly blue eyes, framed by a pair of ill-fitting, black-rimmed glasses, locked on hers, and the ghost of a smirk flitted across his lips. He stepped onto the elevator, the doors sliding shut between them, and she would have written him off as a phantom, some gorgeous ghoul conjured by boredom and a dash of paranoia, if the panel above the elevator wasn’t marking his progress upward.

As he made his way higher, to the fourth, then fifth, then sixth floor of the library, her pulse sped up, hammering violently throughout her body. She could feel the blood throbbing in her neck, in her ears—so loud the world fell silent around her. The blood stampeded through her arms to the tips of her trembling fingers. It pushed her heart to its aching limit. It coaxed its way between her legs, heating her, inspiring her.

She squirmed on the stool where she sat, watching the number “7” light up. The elevator halted, waiting at the top floor of the library to be called again.

He’d gone to the seventh floor—a quiet floor—its stacks housing all the language and literature books the university owned. Of course that’s where he’d go.

“So, ah, I know no one asked me, but I vote you go find that nerd.”

Her coworker’s caustic tone snapped Katniss out of whatever trance he’d put her in the moment he’d walked through the library’s double doors.

“Eh,” Katniss demurred, nervous at the mere thought of it. “I don’t know…”

Her brain began to list out all the reasons it was a terrible idea. It was the week before finals. The library was swarming with students, and the circulation desk had been slammed all morning. To make matters worse, her boss was in the office today—albeit probably passed out drunk at his desk. Katniss looked at the mountain of books that needed to be checked back in and sorted onto carts for reshelving. She imagined the mountain growing to epic heights in the next twenty minutes, avalanching and smothering Johanna Mason to death.

Actually, that last part was sort of a pleasant thought.

“Listen up,” Johanna sighed. “I can go on pretending I don’t know it’s your birthday and be the spectacular bitch to you that I usually am. But I’m feeling generous today, I guess. And I know for a fact that loverboy was shooting ‘fuck me’ eyes at you. So…” She waved her hand dismissively at Katniss. “Scram. If anyone comes looking for you, I’ll tell them you’re on the can from whatever crap you ate at the Union for breakfast.”

Katniss bit her lip, her nerves warring with the overwhelming urge to go find him. Not that she had any idea what to expect, or even to say, if she did. “Well…”

Johanna shot her a withering look, her limited patience with her having already run threadbare.

It was enough.

“Fine. Cover for me. But if anyone asks where I am, don’t say anything about the “can.” Tell them I took my break early.”

**********

What the fuck was she doing anyway? This wasn’t like her at all. This was reckless and wild and… and so completely unlike any script she’d ever followed. It’s not that she was a great respector and worshipper of the rules—not at all. She’d trespassed more times than she could count into local hotels to use their swimming pools. She’s smoked pot with her best friend Gale since she was fifteen, either lying to her mother or sneaking out in the night to get stoned in the playground of the local elementary school (“drug free zone,” her ass). Katniss was openly disdainful of authority, and, if she was not mistaken, she’d dreamt just last night that she’d embarked on a personal mission to assassinate President Trump (best dream ever).

But when it came to boys…

It was different.

She found him down one of the British literature aisles, a copy of Persuasion open in his hands. At the sound of her steps, he looked toward her, his cheeks flushing a ruddy pink. He snapped the book shut and carelessly stowed it back in what was probably not its place, the spine jutting out a couple inches.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice a low rasp in the almost sacred silence of the stacks.

“Hey,” she murmured back, wiping her suddenly clammy palms on her skirt. The thread connecting them pulled her toward him, the force of it unwilled but never more welcomed.

She stopped about a foot from him, unsure what to do next. Really, it was up to him.

The glasses he was wearing sat awkwardly on the bridge of his nose, a little too low. Not fitted for him. He pushed them up with one finger, but it did nothing to hide the fact that the glasses were also crooked.

“Sexy specs.” She smirked at him, hopelessly lost for him.

“Well,” he sighed, smiling down at her. “Unfortunately, my girlfriend has a thing for nerds, so I’m sort of stuck wearing them.”

“For now,” Katniss amended.

“Or,” he shrugged, “you know… whenever she wants.”

Katniss barked out a laugh, remembering too late where they were. She clapped a hand over her mouth to silence herself. In the distance, somewhere on the floor, she heard a chair push back and the soft snores of someone who’d lost their battle with studiousness.

It was probably a terrible idea, what they were going to do. Technically, they could get expelled. Or possibly arrested. But the minute Peeta had cracked a joke, in passing, about fucking her brains out in the library, it had become the fantasy that had sparked a hundred orgasms for her. It had been months, and it was all she could think about.

It was a terrible idea.

As the thought of what they were going to do came to her, Peeta seemed to read it on her body. Before she could change her mind, he had her pinned against the shelves, the hard planes of his body perfectly molded to the soft planes of hers, like two pieces made to lock together.

“Happy birthday,” he breathed against her neck before biting down on the flesh, sucking it between his teeth, nearly to the point of pain.

Katniss gasped, her hips involuntarily bucking at the sensation. As his tongue flicked the tender spot he’d left in the crook of her neck, Peeta grabbed one of her legs, winding it around him.

“You wore the perfect skirt,” he rumbled into her skin, burying two fingers deeply, shockingly fast, inside her.

Katniss’ head lolled back, ecstasy and agony raging through her. She wanted to burn alive, burn with him, burn this place to the ground. When she moaned, he leaned in and bit her lip harshly, punishingly.

“Shhhh,” he reminded her, his fingers curling inside her in a taunt. Teasing her, tormenting her, commanding her to moan again.

“Nerds don’t…” she gasped, her hands desperately trying to find their way into his pants, trying to grasp onto him, to feel him and love him. “Nerds don’t kiss like that.”

“Lucky for you, then, I’m not a nerd.” He backed away slightly, taking his fingers and the heat of his body with him. It felt like a cataclysm, that loss of his warmth and steadiness.

But instead of losing him, Katniss watched him sink to his knees in front of her, his hands coasting down her body, over her tits, her tummy, to her hips. He squeezed them, bracketing them with his hands as if touching her was painful to him somehow. He kissed her pubic bone softly over the fabric of her skirt, then dipped his head and bit her thigh.

“Oh god,” she said, wondering if god himself could see, could hear, would know what was happening. Wondering if god thought the creation before her was half as perfect as Katniss did.

She pointed upward, her arm flailing against the shelf. Amis, Austen, Auden went tumbling down around them as Peeta lifted her leg onto her shoulder and, moving the narrow fabric of her panties aside, began to speak to her in a language they’d made themselves.

“They’ll see,” she panted, her index finger pointing to nowhere.

She could feel the rumble of Peeta’s laughter against her, seeping into her and moving her. His breath was hot against her, his hands bruisingly clutching at her ass.

“Then let’s put on a good show.”

#jennagill #papofglencoe #everlark #fanfiction #omg the fuck #I didn't expect this at all #you're both so busy with your lives thank you so much #MATT ROLEPLAY omg bitch you know that's my dream #and austen nerd sex in a library??#this is like tailor custom made perfection fic #thank yall you're the best #much love #submission

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beowulfs-booty-call · 6 years

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Lore Dump!

(Block Long post so it doesn’t kill you! I’ll be adding more to this tomorrow when I’m not about to fall asleep LMAO) Background on the summons / characters so far:

Ifrit

Secret power bottom who comes off as a Dom top.

He’s the fire elemental and has been Demi’s “First” demon contract as well as... His source of income. While Demi seldom doesn’t speak about the prejudices of his job, Ifrit, head of the original Wrath district as the demon general later “moved” to Eros because he secretly enjoys the way Persephone built it up as an overall balanced District, as well as to fund the incubus who’s somehow managed to charm him as both a dancer and as a summoner.

His demon form is considered to be very similar to this unfinished concept art I once had where Demi was envisioned as a dancing summoner here:

He is extremely muscular and bulky simply because that’s his preferred form. He finds the human body too “weak” and wishes to be as large as he is because his true persona relishes in pride (This unfortunately leads him to be stubborn in some regards, especially when things don’t go his way, he doesn’t like to opt out.) He can be smaller if he so chooses, but as the former general of a District where war and anger are his tools, he much rather likes intimidating.

Ifrit’s main outfit is a dark navy pinstripe suit and a white undershirt. When summoned, however, his horns appear and the flames burn through all he wears save for what shreds remain / a skimpy thong he insists is meant for combat efficient. (Basically, we have his default favorite as a purple chain thong, a leopard print thong, and your all around barbarian esque fur underwear / rags)

Ifrit means well, though his money is essentially “dirty” money. He’s not above certain tactics being a god of war and essentially one of the few elementals to have fought with Persephone in ages past. As a “sugar daddy”, Ifrit tends to lord his money as though they aren’t much to worry on. For example: He is the funder of Demi’s wardrobe as both his summoner and his “protege” as he puts it, and his clothes are well kept and custom made. Despite this, and his supposed “greed”, Ifrit uses this as a coping mechanism for his time in the wars where capital were short and his followers starved. Now he spends his frivolous amounts of currency towards things he believes worth it. He’s most often then not an anonymous donor to starving artists and the needy because he can “see the fire in their eyes”, but you’ll never see him admit it. He quite enjoys the idea that he’s a snobbish jerk if it means he’s left to his own devices most of the time, unless it’s around Demi.

As an elemental, he knows some very close individuals such as “Ramuh” and of course, Hades, but there is still much he has not revealed, whether because of his hedonism clouding his judgement, or his wanting of keeping his protege in the dark is unclear.

He is currently in a long standing rivalry with pop sensation and body positivity icon: Venus, though in the public eye they are known to grin and bear it, out of the public scene, it is not uncommon to see the two butting heads over their differences and their own ideas of what’s best for the incubus. While he does relent on certain stances he has for Demi’s best (I.E, allowing him time to work due to being under Persephone’s rule and not his.), Ifrit is possessive and wants Venus out of his hair, believing her to be a bad influence on his summoner. On the other hand, Venus believes Ifrit’s and Persephone’s grip on Demi, who was once a fellow human, is outright tyrannical. This said, it’s not uncommon for Ifrit’s hard-headedness to lead him into saying something that will later bring him to Venus’ feet or fists. Even as a human, Venus has the uncanny ability to masquerade herself (very badly) as others to get close and absolutely beat Ifrit down such as “Afroooo-Dieeee-teeee, Ukrainian swimsuit cover girl, multi ranged diva, and DESTROYER of flames.” To others, though, he has a very adept insight towards their true motivations, and Demi’s is the real reason he has decided to take him in as a protege and summoner.

Ifrit, while the main cause of comedy, actually does care deeply for his summoner, as he sees in Demi the “ghost” of a man he knew long ago in his prime who also was his summoner. During the “Great War” that eventually created the Districts, this summoner died in battle destroying their contract and wishing Ifrit to find peace in life as they both could not in his. Ifrit, driven into rage by this, completely eradicated the enemy presence and encased himself in flames before being petrified by an unknown force and was later thrown into the Districts when the war was over. When he awakened, he was in a land of war, his beloved summoner no where to be found, and his heart empty save for one thing: Revenge and to fill that empty space in his coal-engraved heart.

Ifrit had many lovers back in his time, but even so, who they are is so far unknown, he claims to live in the present, though, and talks of love do not concern him anymore because of his past. He sees love as a fleeting thing, and something that has left him broken and hungry for the very thing his friend didn’t want: Pain.

Ramuh:

The thunder elemental and “newest” summon so far, a hulking glasses wearing man who’s known to be the sage of lightning and knowledge.

Once worshipped as a god, Ramuh has been in existence long before any of the other elementals (as he puts it) and can remember a distinct mortal existence before becoming “one” with his element.

This mortal life, was where Ramuh was once a man who lived and studied life as a philosopher, before carelessly tossing it all away when life began to lose its glory in his eyes.

In his words, the ancient war broke out and the mortal he once was, was in view of “The Great Ones” who proceeded to transform him into what he is now, from what was once a man who wished to understand life and its wonders, to a god who was now immortal to study all that he wished for.

His staff, Indrajit, was in his hands when he came to, and with it he can both bring down righteous thunder, as well as mend wounds of the body and the mind.

Ramuh has himself a fantastical library, filled with ancient writings, scrolls, and books of all natures that he himself has written and copied from ages past. Legend is foretold that he is the divine writer and for every person who has ever written a work, Ramuh has a copy in his library for the hungry to read.

It is also stated, to read from this library, one must offer up knowledge to Ramuh in the form of a skill or an item that they can give to his library, lest they too become a new experiment.

As an elemental, Ramuh is thoroughly convinced his existence overwrote his “previous” self, his personality being starkly different from his darker and cynical past self. He is far more cheerful and guiding, though when overcome with emotion, he is known to stew in his own juices and isolate himself to clear his head.

He is greatly fond of children and young adults (And extremely protective of them as well), claiming they have the most potential of all and is no stranger to blessing any of those who pray to him, whether out of fear or out of need. His favorite question to ask these young minds are their dreams, for it is the one aspect of knowledge he does not have filled yet, and as time goes by and so do creativity and imagination, it has quickly become a mark on his list.

His relationship to Demi is actually based upon my writing of what my interpretation of Ramuh was to Terra in Final Fantasy 6 (Before my hard drive failed and it erased it all). As a demon with roots of humanity still left within him, Demi finds himself frustrated at his existence at one point and flees into a storm and into the dark seas surrounding the Districts hoping to be carried away in the cover of night. Instead, he is called out to by a mysterious voice, and finds himself ashore to a distant, murky but somehow livelier island across the sea to Ramuh’s study. Ramuh, who felt his presence and empathized with him, welcomed him with open arms as both a fragile mind in need of stability, but also as a foundation of an existence that was never meant to be (He doesn't reveal he knows this to Demi yet.) Taking him in, Ramuh teaches Demi about magic, and how he can use it to the best of his potential under the alias of “Brahma” and a pen name of “Lugh” in his writings. (He reveals down the road that he takes many names, and that Ramuh is considered the name people have given him over the years and it’s become a bit of an attachment.) Later, when his training is complete, and Demi is ready to find his way home, Ramuh explains to Demi that his humanity is not a cause of weakness, nor should he be afraid of who he is, and rather, embrace it. He also is the one to explain what the “Rifts” are, curious portals that are a rip in the space time continuum that allows those who traverse it into other rips into space and potentially time. (This will also be expanded upon, with the inclusion of a Bara Healer I did...!)

As an elemental, Ramuh knows of Ifrit, and is playfully his rival in terms of how opposite the two are. Ramuh is a nurturer, Ifrit is the destroyer, Ramuh studies, while Ifrit takes things at first glance. He also has interacted with Persephone, on a professional level, but likes to believe that they are long over due for another cup of tea together.

Ramuh is very sweet and fatherly, and he spends his time cultivating cacti and small plants as well as having various pets and tamed beasts. Some, such as the Fantastical Demon Anaconda is famed for its dangerous name, but in reality the snake is quite friendly and does not wish to do harm. Ramuh claims this is out of spite for those who condemn his work as a researcher, but the truth is that he enjoys being the root of knowledge, he can bend these things to his will after all. Also under his fingertips is his talent for Bestiary keeping. Amongst them is some of the most feared monsters like The Art Block and The Fear of Failure.

Persephone:

Queen of Eros and transwoman, she is the proud wife of Hades (Resident jock goth who loves her very dearly) and runs Eros as best as she can and as humanly as possible.

She deeply loves her husband and dresses in the finest outfits she creates on her own, as well as being the most fashion forward of the District.

She was the one who turned Demi into an incubus as he stumbled into Eros, a lone human who was one the verge of turning into a will-o-wisp as most humans do. Bestowing upon him a sacred opal, her gemstones allowed those who wear them to show allegiance to her “Court” and become a powerful demon in their own right. Demi, a special case, retained his humanity and with no memories of his previous life, quickly take up his role as a dancer in Persephone’s nightclub,La Fleur de Grenade.

She is not a demon, and is implied to have once been a human, but now, she is queen of demons and those who accept her rule are considered her children; Having taken the role of District ruler from Hades, she wishes to model the District based on her desires of above ground society.

She wishes to bring the Underground above ground so the demons could live amongst humans as she does with Hades and so that she can finally feel the sun on her face like she did as a child.

Hades “kidnapped” her before she transitioned after she met him masquerading as a human above ground and became close to him. She doesn’t like to speak on it, but her family situation was not the most healthiest. However, Hades, who understood her, offered her his help and the two held their hands together as they took the fall to his home where she blossomed into who she is now. She does not regret it one bit, nor does she ever regret that Hades allowed her to become who she is today with his support, and with his help. Overtime she’s grown her own magic herself, but she keeps it bottled so as not to initiate war and instead works for peace in Eros, using her nightclub as one of the key ways to ease off the District’s lust effect on its inhabitants. (Stronger demons resist a District’s influence, most however not.)

Her tactics and work method comes off as back breaking and rather excessive, but this is due to her taking up Demi as her pseudo messenger and agent. Humans who have wandered into Eros (Because it is the most “human” of districts and because it’s far too easy to end up somewhere like a huge Traverse Town) need to be taken out of the District before they degenerate into Will-o-wisps and Demi has quickly surmounted himself as a human “rescuer”. But where these humans go after being dropped off to Persephone’s grip, is still yet unknown.

It’s later to be revealed that Persephone, in her wish to bring the Underground above, is essentially using “human” energy to cause the Underground to rise up. Demons and the gods only exist because they have believers to spread their influence like the “God” who threw them down there. So, the more who interact with Demi and Eros, the more belief is given and the closer it is to reality. She means well, and only seeks the best for the demons, but to bring the Underground above... would destroy those above her, and she doesn’t know that (Yet!)

Persephone’s appearance changes almost every time she gets a chance, her style and fashion is most like a drag queen, always revolving around a theme, but her favorite hair style is a sort of curly pixie cut.

#Long post #And what is a wulf to queue?#Lore #OC lore #Ifrit #Ramuh #Persephone #My ocs

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texanredrose · 6 years

Text

Symphony of Souls (Pt 3)

It took her some time to recover, deep breaths helping to ease the turmoil in her chest. Velvet immediately came to her side, offering a comforting touch and soothing words- though they brought with them a bittersweet sort of pain as well. She spoke of the six she knew, friends she'd had for a while now.

They all lived in the city and remained close friends after college, often meeting at one residence or another for a shared meal or movie or just to talk. She'd only been formally inducted into the friend group during their senior year, with the others sharing ties going as far back as kindergarten, but she'd quickly bonded with all of them. They were staunch friends who sometimes felt more like a family, which made things easier for the rabbit Faunus who'd moved to Vale from Menagerie. Sun and Pyrrha understood her plight, hailing from Vacuo and Mistral respectively, while Blake and Emerald seemed to have bounced around before finding Yang and Sun here in Vale. Coco and Yang were somewhat local, with the former having family out west near the border and the latter's lived just a few miles up the coast.

Weiss honestly couldn't be happier.

After she regained the ability to speak, calming her tears for the meantime, the deity showed her guest around, allowing her to marvel over art no one except her had seen in thousands of years.

"I studied photography in college but I recognize all these pieces from my art history class." She frowned, ears falling slightly. "Except..."

"They don't look exactly the same." Weiss nodded, reaching out to touch the gilded frame on one of the paintings. It showed Thief's- Emerald's, oh, how she'd missed the sound of her name, even in the privacy of her own head- first encounter with the ancient deity. In her fury, a cascade of white light radiated from Weiss' form, with her precious Nightowl just a few steps behind, watching the groveling mortal with curiosity, ears flicked forward. "I had my Thief recreate them, changing the appearances of my chosen and even myself a time or two. I keep the originals here and have destroyed all copies; a tedious task but... I had time." She sighed, allowing her arm to drop. "I had to divert suspicions."

"I don't think anyone would see a classical painting resemble someone they know and jump to the conclusion of deity aided reincarnation," Velvet said, lips curled in amusement, but the chuckle died in her throat upon seeing the seriousness in the deity's expression.

She knew better. "You'd be surprised. I remember when mortals thought physical deformities were the sign of witchcraft; when silver eyes meant terrible power; when freckles were signs of sin. Mortals are funny creatures, when left to tell their own stories." A frown touched her lips. "I also have to consider there are others like me- fallen deities who could try to harness my power to reclaim their former glory."

"They can do that?" Any lightheartedness was swiftly replaced by concern, brows pinching together in worry.

Her lips pressed into a tight line. "I don't know. But I know there are times when I feel almost as powerful as I used to be, like with the six of them by my side I can be as strong as I was before I met Blake that first time. I had many names then and only a handful of consistent depictions- enough to make me a true deity, to bend the world to my whim." She moved on to another picture, depicting a hunt lead by her Gladiatrix with Dragon not far behind, the others following in various states of interest. The thrill always appeal to the first two more than the others, though her Thief and Jester rather liked the physical exertion if nothing else. "I've little idea what could restore one like me or if it's even possible... but I wouldn't put it past half my pantheon to try, so I must protect them."

Velvet leaned closer to a bust of her beloved Seamstress, muttering something about glasses before sighing. "What about you?"

"Pardon?"

"Could you restore yourself?" She gestured to a few more paintings- these obviously made centuries after the initial batch, cataloging their reunions and individual adventures through history. Her Gladiatrix standing in defense of Haven during the Great War, Nightowl rallying humans and Faunus alike during the Azul City Revolution, Dragon proudly posing with Remnant's first suspension bridge behind her, Thief's mugshot on a stylized wanted poster from an exhibition during the resurgence of noir media, Jester leading a caravan across desert dunes, and Seamstress dressing some noble in the fashion of the times. They looked different those times- hair color, skin tone, scars and the like, sometimes taller or shorter, and Weiss recalled each iteration vividly- but they were still her chosen. "If they-"

"No!" She snapped, anger and fear lending power to her voice, before smoothing out her expression a moment later. "No, I- I won't do that. The cost would be far too high." Shining blue eyes fell on a painting of them out in the field behind the temple, beneath the shade of the tree that stood at the edge of their garden. "I'd lose them forever... I can't bear that."

Silence echoed in the room, only broken by Velvet's soft footsteps.

"So you... hide their identities in classical works, hide among mortals yourself, and hope you can find them again, thinking they might reject you..." She paused, obviously putting the pieces together. "They have before... haven't they?"

"More than once," she said, doing her best to keep her tears in check. "By the time I found them, sometimes... they had lives- happy ones. They’d settled down for love or necessity; sometimes, they clung to each other in pairs, doing what they could to make the best of a cruel world. They didn't want to risk uncertainty, so they turned me away, and I understood. I watched over them from afar." Weiss sighed. "Other times... I just... found them too late."

"Why?" The Faunus shook her head. "Why keep putting yourself through this?"

"I love them, Velvet." She smiled, a sad and broken thing with her eyes still shining wet with tears. "For all the pain and loneliness I endure, just one moment more with them... it's worth it."

She truly believed that. At the end of each day, it's what motivated her to face the next one, to continue walking down this endless road rife with agony she could hardly articulate. Just one more moment, one more smile, one more laugh, one more kiss from their lips- she would keep going until the sun turned to dust.

Suddenly, she found arms wrapping around her, a light embrace that eased the turmoil within all too easily, loosened her tongue enough for the words to flow.

"There are times though... when I wonder if I should resign." She closed her eyes and tried with all her might to keep her voice steady. "If I allowed myself to fade away entirely, what remains of my power would strengthen their bonds. They'll find each other earlier in their lives and, together, they will find the happiness they deserve." A shuddering breath. "That's all I want for them."

"But then they wouldn't have you." The Faunus squeezed her a little tighter. "It sounds like you make them happy; they've chosen you before and they will again."

"Maybe." She muttered, pulling away just enough to look into umber eyes. It still hurt, because she could see the soul shining bright, calling to her, looking to ease her distress as the others had... but she couldn't indulge more than she had already. "I bring them pain, too. Just look at Blake."

A sigh slipped past her lips as she turned away, leading Velvet further into the room, to the very last painting at the back of it. Unlike all the others, this one her Thief painted many centuries after the fact, plagued by nightmares of the night the temple fell. Flames burst from between blackened columns, stone crumbled along the foundation, and thick smoke obscured all but the bright red of the soldiers' eyes as they marched up the steps and desecrated their home.

"Wait, I know this one. I did a paper on it." The Faunus leaned closer to inspect it, noting every little inconsistency with a keen gaze. "This is 'Fall of Maiden Temple' based on the old legends describing the sacking of Tempir. The army of King Sidom swept across Mantle, destroying effigies of ancient gods and ransacking places of worship so he could install himself as a God King. By all accounts..." She paused, the pieces falling together. "That was three thousand years ago."

Absent of every other recreation were the two figures lying in pools of blood in the courtyard of the temple- partially blurred and obscured by smoke and the boots of soldiers as spears were thrust down into prone bodies, unable to defend themselves. Further up the steps, another lay with a sword imbedded in his gut, and more beyond.

"Yes." Weiss swallowed thickly. "These are the memories I bring back. I'll never forget the night I failed them; seeing me reminds them of that. I failed to protect them. I did this." Thousands of years' of guilt fell heavily on her shoulders, but she stood tall. She brought this upon them all; the least she could do was own up to her terrible failures. "Each time they choose to stand beside me again, they forgive me this, my greatest transgression... but I've yet to forgive myself."

She turned away in shame, her mind playing tricks on her and lending movement to the flames. Moments like these, she felt her weakest, the agony of being without her lovers compounded by the memories lodged deep in her soul, her final moments with each of them mired in sorrow and regret. She should've given her life to protect them, not the other way around.

"Do you tell them this every time?" Velvet kept her voice soft, falling into step behind the deity as she made a hasty retreat from the room.

"No." She shook her head, closing the door quickly and setting the locks, as if such physical means could ever hide away the memories, the guilt and sorrow, the pain and rage. "When the memories come, I let them vent, let them process in their own time, and let them decide to move on, which they always do. After suffering through the vague memories of their first death, they usually want to focus on happier times. I keep all this to myself... until now." Blue eyes slid to the Faunus and she could tell by the worry shining in her eyes and evident in her expression that she'd drained herself by dwelling on the night her temple fell. A little rest would recharge her; unlike the wear of weathering centuries alone, this loss of strength came from resisting the inclinations inherent to all her kind, the urge to exact harsh punishments against those who wronged her tempered by the futility of the gesture. Beyond that, Velvet had no recollections to draw upon and no duty to share in the memories, and another pang of regret stabbed at her heart. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have burdened you with this."

"Weiss, it's not a burden." She paused, then shrugged. "Okay, it is a burden, but the sort you're supposed to share. Everyone needs a friend." She smiled, ears perking. "And maybe I can help make this right. I could call everyone together for a party, introduce you to them again. I'm sure I can talk Blake into it."

"That won't be necessary; in time, Blake will make her decision," the deity said, drawing herself up and offering a polite smile. "I've been through this before. I must merely wait."

Weiss started for the door, ready to escort her guest out; she couldn't imagine Velvet would want to stay bear witness to more. Or, perhaps, she didn't trust herself to keep it all locked away, for it wouldn't be the first time secrets were coaxed from her lips. She'd always been so weak to those whose souls appealed to her, one of the many failings she possessed. Sometimes, she wondered why Mother stood to make such an imperfect creation, but, then again, weren't they all?

Halfway down the stairs, she turned back, aware she was no longer being followed and curious as to what had drawn the Faunus' attention. Instantly, she recognized the glint in Velvet's eyes, determination coupled with compassion, and she'd seen it in too many shades to mistake it now.

"What were the first words you said to Blake when you were in our apartment?"

A frown touched her lips- yet another bittersweet memory. "I asked her 'do you believe in destiny', it’s-"

"Here's the thing, Weiss," she said firmly, not wavering in the slightest as she stood at the top of the stairs. "I really didn't before I met you. But it's hard to argue with what I'm seeing and I don't think it's just a coincidence that you came to the park that night or that I already know everyone you've been looking for, that I live with one of them." Velvet looked around, noting that very little outside the locked room indicated much about the person who dwelt within the penthouse. So instead, she turned to point back down the hall, towards the room they’d just left. "I don't have, what, seven millennia of memories to sift through, trying to find the right path." She then pointed down, at the space between her feet. "I only have the here and now. And from where I'm standing?" Her brows pinched together. "There's an obvious way to approach this and it seems to be the best solution. Let me talk to Blake and the others. Just... see if I can get all of them together to meet you."

Weiss sighed, sensing already her odds. “I’ll not talk you out of this, will I?”

“You can try.” Velvet crossed her arms over her chest, shifting her weight to one foot. “I mean, you’ll fail, but you can try, if it makes you feel better.”

“Very well,” she said, conceding the fight a bit too readily. The chance to be among them again- immortal she may be, but she had her weaknesses the same as any mortal. Six of them, to be precise. Then again, were it any other making the offer, she might still be able to resist... but not Velvet, with her bright soul shining in her eyes. “But I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring up what I’ve told you here today or try to push Blake one way or another. It’s her decision and I will respect that. I expect you to do the same.”

After a moment, rabbit ears twitched. “Okay, fair. It’s not my story to tell.” At the deity’s continued stare, she rolled her eyes. “And I won’t twist Blake’s arm.”

“That doesn’t sound very convincing.”

“Look, I think we can both agree she has her... stubborn streaks. All of them do.” The Faunus began descending the stairs, moving her hands in vague gestures. “But I have the benefit of not remembering a damn thing. I’ll ground Blake in the present and presently? You’ve gone through hell and high water to just spend a little time with her where she isn’t figuratively tearing your throat out. The least she can do is humor us both.”

“You’ve certainly come around quickly.” Her lips lifted into a small smile. “I’d imagined telling someone a time or two before- sharing my grief with a mortal. I never imagined they’d believe me, though.”

“Guess I’m different in a few ways, huh?” Velvet smiled, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “But, honestly, between what Blake told me of your explanation and what you’ve said thus far, I can at least trust that you’re being honest, and all those paintings are hard to argue with- especially because I’m pretty good at spotting forgeries.” Her expression turned a bit more somber. “I get the feeling there’s more you’re not telling me, though.”

“Much like with the others, too much too soon can overburden even the most accepting soul.” The deity stopped at the landing. “I do hope we can continue talking after everything’s settled with the others.”

“Will you ever tell me the rest of the story? About Myrtenaster and who you were before Blake? The past seven thousand years are pretty well accounted for but what about before that? And-”

“Answers in due time,” she replied with a chuckle, accepting the little, sheepish smile and nodding towards the kitchen. “Would you like some lunch before you go?”

One ear flicked as a smarmy smirk claimed her lips. “I think there’s a legend or two cautioning against sharing a meal with a goddess.”

“Lucky for you, I’m a deposed one, so it’s not nearly so dire a concern.” They both laughed, her offer accepted as they started towards the kitchen. “And thank you, Velvet. For helping me with... all this.”

“Hey, what are friends for?” She smiled, and Weiss could already feel another piece of her heart beginning to break off. “Are we going to have another one of Blake’s favorites?”

She raised a brow, feigning ignorance. “Whatever do you mean?” The look she received, however, encouraged her to drop that act rather quick. “I’d hoped it wasn’t quite that obvious.”

“Well, sure, not to the average person looking for neat recipes,” Velvet said, a smile tugging at her lips. “But aside from the fact you literally named the tabs after them, I’ve known Blake for a while now. When I recognized some of the entries, I kinda figured you’d pointed me at something... special.” Shrugging her shoulders, she let out a little chuckle. “And I mean, it’s exciting, in a way.”

“How so?” They stepped into the kitchen together- an area of the penthouse she rarely entered, unless struck by a particularly strong bout of nostalgia.

“There are times we’ve been out before, like at a restaurant, and she’ll order something.” The Faunus leaned back against one counter, reminiscing with a grin. “She’ll be excited until it comes, and then her expression kinda... drops.” Despite the sour turn of her recounting, Velvet seemed rather giddy about it. “We’ll always ask her if she’s okay and she just brushes it off. Says ‘I thought it would taste different’ or something, because it is good, and now I know why.” Her hands moved with every word as her smile grew. “It’s these memories- the times she’s eaten this stuff before the recipe changed, or a certain ingredient became more popular. She’ll still order them, still eat them, but it’s like she’s always known something’s missing or off. And now? I know!” She shook her head a little. “You even included cooking instructions- no one thinks to prepare suya using the old religious methods anymore!”

Unbidden, the smell of cooking meat and burning wood filled her nose, called forth by a memory, and she could hear laughter in her ears and feel at least one set of arms around her waist. “It certainly changes the taste, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” A brief pause. “Watching Blake’s face light up, having finally found the taste she’s been expecting...” Her ears drooped. “I... kinda feel bad, now that I think about it, depriving you of that.”

“It’s quite alright.” She went to the pantry, possessed by a mission. “Did you enjoy the meal as well?”

“Yeah... are you sure-”

“Velvet,” she said, turning a smile towards her guest. “It’s fine. I’m sure you noticed how long the Nightowl tab is; there’s more opportunities ahead. I make it a point to treat them like the royalty when I find them- I cook all their old favorites, bring back dishes the whole world’s forgotten.” Weiss tried to focus on assembling the ingredients but felt her resolve weakening, turning to look at her guest. “But I do wonder... when she catches wind of something she particularly likes, sometimes her ears will... do this thing-”

“Oh, you mean this?” Although longer, her rabbit ears twitched in a peculiar pattern. “Yeah, she does that.”

Despite the inherent differences, she found her heart fluttering all the same. “I’m glad.” Shaking her head slightly, she focused on the task at hand, cataloging what she had readily available and mentally going through the recipes to see what she might have to offer. “I look forward to seeing it again myself. But for now, perhaps you’ve noticed the others have similar reactions to certain foods?”

“Yeah, now that you mention it.” Velvet’s brows furrowed very slightly before she laughed. “Coco’s usually the loudest about it.”

“I suspect we both know why, now don’t we?” She motioned to one of the cupboards. “Grab the skillet and saucepan from there. Let me show you what she remembers.”

The kitchen came alive with the sounds of cooking- an activity she didn’t do near as often without her beloveds present. Velvet turned out to not only be a great helper but attentive to the process as well, asking little questions about the benefits of using a mortar and pestle versus store bought ground peppers and the like. All in all, a nice afternoon capped with a meal Velvet enjoyed enthusiastically, proclaiming something along the lines of ‘the universe finally makes sense’ and a promise to ‘cook more things with wine’, though it would likely be difficult for her to find bottles as old as Weiss had readily on hand.

It remained one of those bittersweet things that her existence brought, made all the easier to bear when a smile flashed her way. It wasn’t one of the ones she’d longed for... but that didn’t bother her in the slightest.

Three days.

Weiss tried to not count each second but felt too restless. Never before had she entrusted her secrets in such a manner, not since she'd lost her chosen. The ones she took to pass the centuries rarely called to her the way they had, the familiar thrum of a compatible soul rare enough that she didn't want to sully the years with her ever present regret. She feigned happiness and that seemed to pacify her temporary partners, if she deigned to care about their opinions at all.

However, after three days, she began to worry. Did they begrudge her using another to bring them together? Velvet promised she wouldn't mention their previous lives though. Perhaps Blake had?

When her scroll rang, it quite nearly gave her a heart attack, anxiety spiking rather suddenly as she saw the name flashing on the screen.

The Reckoning had come.

"Hello?" She did her best to sound composed as she answered, nervously picking at the hem of her blouse.

"Hey Weiss!" Sorry it took so long. Someone wanted to be difficult." Velvet seemed in high spirits, a teasing lilt to her tone.

"There's a difference between 'difficult' and 'cautious'," Blake said, her voice raised as if yelling from another room.

"Whatever you say, Bookworm!" The rabbit Faunus laughed, bringing a small smile to the deity's lips. "Anyway, I know it's short notice, but everyone's coming over to the apartment tonight. Wanna join us?"

Blue eyes flicked to her bed, where she'd laid out an appropriate outfit after seeing her guest down to the lobby the other day. She'd thought it foolish at the time- wishful thinking and it did nothing to settle her nerves- but perhaps the spontaneity had remained intact, too. Her beloveds were always prone to last minute decisions. "I would love to."

"Great! Do you remember how to get to my apartment?"

"Yes."

"Perfect! Swing by, let's say, around seven?" Velvet lowered her voice. "Everyone else will be here around six thirty; I think it'll be easier if you only have to go through the whole explanation once."

"That's considerate of you. Thank you." More words sat on her tongue but she refrained, by the barest margins.

"Blake's looking forward to seeing you again, by the way." Weiss felt her heart stutter. "I think she's starting to remember more. She asked me about going to the library the other day. I think she misses the smell of books."

She couldn't help but blurt out the first thing that came to mind. "Should I bring one of her old ones? I still have her original collection. Most of it, anyway."

Silence followed her words and the deity cursed her impatience, more than aware how terribly reckless she became when so close to reuniting with her lovers. The thought occurred to her every time yet she always decided against it, feeling as though it would do more harm than good. She'd just never spoken it aloud before, not to someone capable of responding anyway.

"Actually, I think she'd love that."

"... you do?"

"Yeah!" Velvet's smile could be easily heard across the line. "I think something from her past might help make these memories seem more real, more tangible. Bring one from the early days if you have it; it might remind her why she decided to stay with you at the temple." She paused, humming. "But, if you do bring a book for her, maybe you should bring something for the others as well? It might give them something to focus on while they remember; a grounding rod to a particularly strong memory."

She blinked. Bringing them something from their past had occurred to her but choosing an item specifically for its importance hadn't; she usually considered something they especially liked, not something from a shared memory.

"That... actually sounds like a wonderful idea." Blue eyes darted towards the hallway. "It may take me some time to choose what I'll bring. There are... so many choices."

"Do you need any help carrying them over?"

"No." Her mind raced with possibilities. "Thank you, Velvet, but I'll keep my physical limitations in mind."

"I dunno, seeing you waltz through the door with a work bench over one shoulder would be entertaining." The Faunus chuckled. "But seriously, you can thank me if this all works out. I'll see you later, okay?"

After bidding Velvet goodbye, Weiss hung up, hardly able to process how quickly things had progressed. Usually, she'd still be working to get the first one she found to remember, to trust her, but now she'd have all six together again.

Quickly, she got to her feet and hurried to the secured room, excitement hastening her steps. She already had ideas for what to bring and only a few hours to be ready.

Music and laughter drifted down from an open window as Weiss waited for seven o'clock to roll around. Her eagerness had gotten the better of her and she'd arrived fifteen minutes early with a bag slung over her shoulder. As people passed, they gave her odd looks and she could hardly fault them; if it bothered her, she could always hide herself away, but she didn’t want that. Weiss wanted all the world to know that tonight, she would have a chance to reclaim those whom she’d lost so long ago, and so many times since. For such an auspicious evening, she would not hide herself away, and would soak up the curiosity just as easily as any other attention paid her.

The ancient deity wore her best silk for the occasion, the white fabric folded and pinned in place by hand crafted broaches bear their marks. When she sat on the throne in her temple to hear the plights of mortals, she wore this very ensemble while surrounded by her lovers. An ivory crown etched with snowflakes pressing against her temples, her Gladiatrix and Dragon at her shoulders, her Seamstress and Jester at her hips, her Thief’s emblem high on her belly and her Nightowl in the center of her chest, a mimicry of the stars that constituted her constellation in the night sky, given new meaning- she truly looked like one befitting her power, the honor and respect conferred upon the pantheon her very birthright. In those days, her eyes never dulled, always shining so bright from the adulation of thousands the world over and multiplied by those she’d chosen to keep beside her through the centuries, and none dared question her divinity.

Now, more often than not, some brave soul would muster the courage to ask if she’d hand made the ‘costume’ or if it was story bought, or snort derisively that she’d be late to her ‘dumb party’ when she deigned to not acknowledge their presence at all.

Weiss checked her scroll, still a minute shy but unable to wait any longer, and ascended the stairs, standing before the door with her heart thudding in her chest. She should give it a few more minutes, to not seem so eager- she’d scared her beloveds quite badly by showing her emotions too quickly in the past and she didn’t want to repeat the mistake.

The test of her resolve came to an abrupt end, however, when the door opened.

“Blake.” The name left her lips like a prayer, confronted with the Faunus giving her a soft smile that melted her heart every single time.

“You’ve always been a stickler for punctuality, if I recall right,” she said, a rueful lilt to her voice. “I think, anyway.” Amber eyes gave her a quick once over, ears twitching slightly. “I... can’t tell if your outfit surprises me or not.”

“I wanted to impress.” Weiss offered a smile, unable to keep herself from drinking in every little detail. Blake and purple dominated Blake’s attire, which seemed rather fitting; the deity had ensured her Nightowl had access to nothing short of the best clothing in her preferred colors, the dark fabrics blending into her midnight hair while the traditionally royal purple affirmed her status at the deity’s side and brought out her eyes all the more. However, she had to admit: black leather with a purple top, while not the most refined ensemble, definitely looked good on her. “I suppose I’m a bit out of date, though.”

Blake flashed her a smile. “Actually, I think you’re rather timeless.” She coughed into her hand, a blush just beginning to rise in her cheeks as the Faunus averted her gaze, missing Weiss’ fond smile entirely. “Anyway, I wanted to be the one to meet you at the door. I... wanted to say... I’m sorry.”

“That’s hardly necessary; this time-”

“No.” She shook her head and waved off the words with a cringe. “I mean, I do feel bad about kicking you out before, but the more I started to... remember...” She glanced at the deity, making eye contact briefly before a sigh escaped her lips, ears laying back atop her head. “For some reason, I kept feeling like I owed you an apology for something but, every time I tried before, you would stop me.” One hand came up to rub at her arm, a long held, self conscious gesture. “I think you know why I want to apologize better than I do. Right now, anyway. Velvet said that everything would make more sense once you talked to us. So. When I remember, I’ll probably try again, but until then, at least I’ve said it.”

Weiss chuckled, ducking her head to buy herself time as she marshaled her thoughts. “I can’t believe I forgot how sneaky you could be, catching me before I’ve even had the chance to raise my guard.”

“If I remember right, it’s one of the things you love about me.”

She paused, looking back up and slowly shaking her head. Although something she would expect in a few years, when her memories were entirely restored and their bond repaired, to hear it so soon, with no hint of insincerity or uncertainty...

“... how?”

Blake looked uncomfortable for a moment before averting her gaze again. “I guess it seems... weird to you. But... it’s weird to me, too.” She raised a hand, rubbing at her temple. “I have... so many images in my head, disjointed from emotions, and I can remember each one, but I can’t... it’s like there’s movies in my head, but the scenes are jumbled.” She looked up, meeting Weiss’ gaze with a pleading expression. “Velvet helped me make sense of some of it. Made some of the pieces fit together- it’s not enough, but it makes me feel like there’s... some truth in your words, in these... memories.” She shrugged, ears lifting slightly- a sign of hope. “I want to hear you out. I want to make sense of it.”

With a nod, the deity smiled. “Thank you.”

“Thank Velvet.” The Faunus puffed out a brief laugh. “She’s... always been scary good at talking some sense into me.” Her shoulders relaxed a little. “She’s... not the only one. But I think you know that already.”

“I do.”

Blake turned, pushing the door open a bit more. “Would you like to come in and meet the others... again?”

“More than anything,” she replied, entering the apartment again and able to hear quiet chatter amid music coming from the living room, voices she hadn’t heard in far too long reaching her ears. “How much did Velvet tell you?”

“It was less ‘telling’ and more ‘confirming’, putting things in order.” The Faunus frowned, brows pinching together. “This is going to be a shock to everyone, isn’t it?”

Weiss reached out, gently laying a hand on Blake’s arm. “It will pass swiftly. I promise.” Her expression turned contrite. “I’m afraid of everyone, your reaction is always the worst. That’s my fault. Theirs will be easier.”

To her relief, a glimmer of her beloved Nightowl returned in the soft smile that answered her. “I trust you. And I get the feeling you’re being too hard on yourself.” She nodded towards the interior of the apartment. “Now, come on; I’ve kept you to myself long enough.”

Deep down, she laughed at that, allowing only a chuckle to break the surface, because she didn’t think Blake understood how vast an understatement that was, but it would come in time. Taking a brief moment to brace themselves, the two stepped beyond the foyer and into the living room, everyone’s attention sliding to them almost immediately. Blue eyes quickly scanned the all too familiar faces, her heart skipping a beat at how happy they all looked, enjoying each other’s company.

Curiously, she didn’t spot Velvet among them, but any question as to the rabbit Faunus’ whereabouts was silenced as the others spoke up.

“Oh, hey! Who’s your friend, Blake?” Yang called out from between Sun and Pyrrha on the couch, leaning forward slightly to get a better look. Then a spark ignited in those lilac eyes as she tilted her head. “Wait, you look familiar- have we met before?”

“Wow, Xiao Long, not even thirty seconds,” Coco said with a drawl, sitting on the adjacent loveseat with Emerald. However, a furrow came to her brows followed by the lowering of her shades prevented further teasing, chocolate orbs flicking over her frame. “But you might be right for once.”

“Maybe we shared a class together?” Emerald offered, glancing at the others before returning her gaze to Weiss, throwing a remote of some sort at Sun, whose mouth was hanging wide open in shock.

He fumbled with it but shut off the music all the same, going right back to staring the moment he’d complied with the unspoken request.

“Sorry!” Pyrrha’s apologetic smile said it all as she made a small gesture with her hands. “It seems we’re all having the same issues. Would you mind jogging our memories?”

“Of course,” she replied, unable to keep from smiling at the phrasing. “Do you believe in destiny?”

#Symphony of Souls fanfic #Weiss!Harem #Polyamory implied and in later installments #TRR writes

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