@wintxrx // soleil x lorenzo

"Flowers? You shouldn't have."

But what Soleil really wanted to say was, thank you I love you let's get married. Could you blame her? No one, not even her own brother Ford, had attended a ballet recital of hers yet. Maybe Ford did when she was doing baby ballet, but he hadn't gone to one ever since she moved to New Orleans and joined the local group. Long story short, seeing Lorenzo in the audience during her routine and now—backstage as all the other girls were given flowers and chocolates and congratulations—meant a lot to her.

She gave the bouquet a sniff before smiling warmly at Lorenzo. Maybe she even had on a set of heart eyes. For someone she'd just met, he was leaving such a mark on her life already. "I still gotta change outta my clothes—" she wore a flowy skirt and a pair of wings, her costume for the recital resembling some sort of angel— "but will you wait five minutes? Or do you gotta go?"

@rxnatx // soleil x lorenzo

"Umm, are you kidding me?" Soleil scoffed, retrieving her ID back from the bartender. These speakeasies in the outskirts of town were always a little stricter when it came to the bars in downtown New Orleans. Sweet Southern accent protested: "I don't know how much clearer I can make it. I'm 24, this is a real ID. I didn't wait three friggin' hours at the DMV just for some big Chris Evans-wannabe to say it's fake."

The bartender lifted his brow and looked down at the shorter girl, puffing up his chest. "You're lucky I don't toss you outta here, kid. So what'll you have? A Shirley Temple or nothin'?"

With a sigh, she shoved her ID back in her wallet and responded, "Fine. I'll have a Shirley Temple, please." Though her words were sweet, her voice was dripping with sarcasm. Maybe if she pretended hard enough, the Sprite and grenadine could give her a little bit of a head buzz. Begrudgingly, she took the drink from the bartender and turned around with every intention of headed back to her table with her friends until she noticed someone sitting at the bar staring at her.

Of course. It was a hot guy. He probably watched the whole altercation with the bartender go down, too. She already had a tough time meeting guys at the bar in comparison to her other, prettier friends—and now she was at even more of a disadvantage, perceived as a babyface.

Soleil approached him, taking the stool beside him and figuring she'd address the elephant in the room before it simmered. "So, I'm guessin' you saw all that?"

@hungryyheart from this !!

It's adorable, really, how a fun little quip from her has him seemingly melting into a puddle. Soleil didn't mean anything malicious with her words, honest—she was only trying to be clever. She hides her mouth behind the top of the bottle of mandarin Jarritos she's drinking, the glass concealing a pair of glossy, strawberry lips. Her eyes stick on him and his face and his hair for a second longer before they flit to the orange liquid in her glass, bubbling. They're the same color.

"Don't worry, s'nothin' bad," she reassures him, Southern lilt in her voice as obvious as the sun on a hot summer day. "I just mean... like, I seen you before." What she doesn't add: and you're cute. She takes a sip of her soda and nods her head toward the big, burnt-red-brick apartment building they were standing next to. "My brother 'n I just moved in a few weeks ago and I caught you a couple times, um, throwin' away your garbage. My window gets the pretty view of it 'nd all. Just thought I'd say hi instead of being curious 'bout you."

Or he's doing something else out here. She's not quite sure. All she knows is that the boys in high school are all mean and city-like and there's something about the tall one in front of her that gives her the sense that he's nice to his momma or something. And that's important to a girl like her.

@facepeeled // from this ( x )

"Pissed, shat in, puked on. All the above." Soleil's less careful about being quiet despite the fact the two are in church. So what if she's cussing up a storm, mass hasn't started yet and if anybody's got a problem with it they'd better say something now or forever hold their peace. Agatha, a bitter sister wife from another clan in the community, in fact glances over her shoulder at the pair sat in the pew behind her and gives Soleil a dirty look.

Soleil scowls in return before huffing, folding her arms over her chest and turning away from Cricket. "And this ain't about Agatha. It's about Serene. She embarrassed me in class today." As in, dance class. Although it's taught by someone in the commune, it's something different to do than tend to a farm or wash the feet of one's priesthood holder. The last thing Soleil needs is somebody embarrassing her about one of the things she enjoys doing in her life.

"I swear to God I'll kill 'er if she mentions one more thing makin' fun'a my plié," she mutters. I'm only so stiff 'cause I ain't ever had sex and we all know she ain't been a virgin since..."

Agatha clears her throat, aptly cutting Soleil off.

DEBRIEF/// [ VANDAL SQUADRON ]

A Scattering of Jades - art by Guillaume Sorel (2006)

turn off that tv, we have stuff to do 🩷👀

Blood is Thicker Than Water

Apparently the entire Belmont Clan is in on this joke... or is it really that big of a family secret? I had approached this subject with Soleiyu already, but I came up with a way to get multiple birds with one stone.

Sadly Pit and Rock missed every single shot.

POV: You're out to kill Dracula with your family when he realises you don't know who Leon Belmont is. (and you can be sure he will tell you all of the details of everything about him)

So, what if Leon's legend had already been (mostly) forgotten in Trevor's era, and all he and all that follows knew of him was his night hunting techniques ? Surely, Dracula couldn't let this slide. No way he's letting his dear friend's clan forget about the very founder of it !

So there he is, giving a little History lesson to the men who came to slaughter him. And none of them are sure how they should react. Soleil's really into it though.

Wil Geary - photo by Joem C. Bayawa

@worthless-weight-in-gold // soleil x eun yoo

She's swimming.

Well, in her head she's swimming, but in real life she's lying down on the cold, metal bench in the changing room at the Printemps Ballet Studio. With her eyes closed, Soleil practices her port de bras, hands and fingers graceful as she creates one giant moon with her arms, one on top and one on bottom. And she switches. Points her toes. She's half-convinced she's actually in a pool, mostly because that would be much better on such a hot day instead of being cooped up inside.

Quietly, she hums the opening melody of Danse Macabre by Camille Saint-Saëns; a piece she and her mentee are creating a routine around for the next showcase. Soleil's final showcase, that is, before she graduates college and truly enters the world of dance, sans the title of 'student.' Mentoring a younger dancer for a duet piece is also part of that rite of passage.

She must look silly by her lonesome while the other girls filter out of the locker room and into practice. But Printemps is the one place she doesn't care what other people think of her. Ballet is the one thing she's good at. It's the one thing she can control. It's the one thing that makes her feel like she's not Soleil, a pathetic girl from the bottom of a barrel dug out from the murky bayou with dreams bigger than her body. It makes her feel like she can do anything and be anything.

So if she wants to swim, she'll swim.

Soleil gets to a point in the song that she doesn't remember—it's meant to be a 4-minute routine out of a 7-minute song and she's about halfway in her mind. She and Eun-Yoo, her mentee and partner for the duet piece, are supposed to continue rehearsing today. But Eun-Yoo's running a bit late. Brows furrowed, her peace is interrupted when she becomes curious of the time.

She opens her eyes and sits up, bringing her knees in to tighten the pair of bright red satin ballet shoes she's got on. She glances up at the clock. Ten minutes late. That's not like her mentee. With a sigh, she lays back down and starts from the top.

@colcrado // soleil x sid

Soleil sat on the curb outside of the New Orleans Police Department, sinking into her shame. She had no clue that the guy she'd matched with on Tinder—the guy she'd just been on a date at a fancy restaurant with and had been talking with for a few weeks—had a wife and kids. When that said wife confronted them at the restaurant, the claws came out... and Soleil was escorted out by police sporting a few scratches on her face and what would be a shiny new record.

Out in the city by her lonesome, the only person she could really call was none other than Sid. There was no way in hell—even if it froze over—that she’d call her older brother to bail her out. When the big city could so easily eat her right up for breakfast, Sid was the only one she could trust, despite the looming feeling that she’d get judged by him, too. She had no other choice.

The whoosh of his tires against the puddles in front of the station was the only sound that pulled Soleil’s face out of her hands. She wasn’t crying, but she damn well could have been, bottom lip permanently jutted out in a pout that wouldn’t quit. Sullen, she pulled herself off of the curb and got in his car, the pretty red dress she’d bought for the evening dirtied up from sitting outside. “I know what you’re gonna say,” she said, leaning her elbow against the door. 

“'I told you so.' So just say it, okay? I was an idiot.”

@princessbxtch-rps // soleil x noelle

"A friggin' 65? In Mr. Duvall's class?"

Soleil scoffed, using her hand over her phone as an umbrella to protect her screen from the sun. She double checked to see if her grade was correct after all and nearly crushed her phone in her hand once she'd gotten confirmation. Her English professor's notes on her essay on The Shining by Stephen King wrote: Missed the point of the novel completely.

"What the hell does he mean, I 'missed the point'?" She shook her head and set her phone face down on the towel underneath her. "All work and no play makes Soleil a dull girl." See, if she could quote it, didn't that mean she read the book? Or... at least, watched the movie. What gives, she'd been busy doing vampire stuff!

The two were in their made-up era, a couple of weeks removed from the so-dubbed Birthday Incident. Soleil had done her best to balance more time with her best friend in her busy schedule of eating boys, honing her skills. For the most part, save for a few slip-ups where she showcased more of her intense jealousy (like storming off whenever the topic switched to Dixon or another boy that gave Noelle attention) than she wanted to or took longer bathroom breaks to have a snack (like, um, that dining hall boy's ear chunk she found in the pocket of the jacket she wore when she ate him), they were getting along swimmingly.

And it was spring break. A pool day like the one they were having was long overdue, and Soleil was in bliss basking in the sun. Except, that gaggle of boys in the corner of the pool, roughhousing and cackling amongst themselves were sort of getting on her nerves...

A pout defined her features as she looked over at Noelle, who likely got the better grade. Mr. Duvall always seemed to like her better.

"What'd he give you?"

is andrew your only f/o or do you have any more?

Well my f/o tends to be very specific to whatever special interest I got going on at the time so yeah right now is Andrew mostly but I have had many I used to be really into Saihara Shuichi, Dabi, c!Wilbur and cc!Wilbur lol, at some I was really into Axel and Leon from Kingdom Hearts

Immer

Immer denn und dann, immer wenn und wann: wo was verwurstet wird, da pulsiert, dass ich die Stelle vermisse, an der alles Sinn gemacht hat.

Das Drama, die Novelle, der Roman und der Epos sind unterschiedlich lange Beschäftigungsmöglichkeiten damit, dass fast jeder mal an eine Stelle gerät, an der alles Sinn macht. Und das kurze Drangeraten hilft trotzdem nicht, das nicht.

@thewolfruns | soleil + ?

"Ain't she a beaut?" It's almost like Soleil is stargazing as she looks up at the still-cocooned Mothra, shuffling in her sleep. Her ultraviolet glow is illuminating the otherwise dark research corridor; she makes it feel like not night, not day, but an otherworldly in-between. Despite having been on the research team for Mothra for the last couple of months now, Soleil's still in awe of what she gets to see every day.

She takes a seat up on one of the half-walls, mouth agape and eyes still fixed on Mothra's cocoon as she absentmindedly reaches for her lunch. She starts crunching on some chips, then finally looks over. "When you think she's gonna hatch?"