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@reapsowed       he’s not fat.   just..   well fed,   as every baby should be

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ right.  ..  and  what  am  i  supposed  to  do  with  that?  this  was  supposed  to  be  submitted  to  me  two  months  ago.

@painteros       glad we’re in agreement,   because i tend to keep it that way.    here’s your essay.

@stagqrc  accidents don’t always equate to negative.  my brother for example.   not planned,  the reason of an unhappy marriage,  yet he will inherit father’s fortune, sit as the head of the south drakosian nations,   and live on as the descendant of the greatest bloodline that ever lived.  …    followed by your lover’s,  of course.      i can’t  ignore my respect for the beowulf family.    he would not be here without us, after all. 

@reapsowed    no.   i’m not adopted.   i simply learned early what happens when maturity is optional.   shared blood doesn’t guarantee shared priorities—   or shared manners,  for that matter.    i wouldn’t say i’m an anomaly,   for that implies accident.   i’d say it’s pretty intentional

@stagqrc    which prompts me to wonder—are you adopted?  you do not act like ..  the other.  and i’ve learned enough to consider the fact that he is the seed of— ‘immaturely behaved’  people.  leaving you as the unique anomaly. 

wind—kissed, she’ll settle down for the company of millennia–aged shelves instead of her hírilía. surrounding them is a silence like a baited breath. with theah sat still, perched with the stillness of every tree that has ever been kissed by the winter-death, eyes follow suit with lined pages.            “i made cards for revision on the chapter, if they’d help.”             hair’s coming undone, revealing otherwise tamed curl on the dallen’s head. 

@eurysphea      she doesn’t look up from the page at first.  her quill pauses,   ink pooling just enough to betray her distraction,   before she sets it aside with care. the library hums softly around them—   paper,   dust,   the illusion of order.     “company can stay.  noise can’t.”      only then does she glance up at theah,   taking in the ride-gear,   the braids,   the freedom she hasn’t allowed herself yet.   her expression doesn’t soften— but it doesn’t harden either.     “sit.   i’m getting ahead so i don’t have to think later.”

“then you won’t.      is that a ‘no’ to company as well?”           school girl costume’s abandoned for what felt like the first weekend off of her life.  she’s decked out in ride—gear instead,  hair in double braids and hands ridding themselves of muddied gloves kept away from documents helena’d been fussing over. 

[her reaction only confirmed what he already knew.  someway & somehow, matteo rosaunt always found a way to know things—it was just at the expense of others that proved him right] i’m not a dunami,  helena.  it’s a natural process for lovers,  no?  and by the looks of it he’s doing a rightfully praised job on his end.    you look less stressed each night.  and he—smiles more.  [he’d shrug his shoulder,  glancing behind them to see how far they’ve gone.  the school was but a speck now,   and they had only inspected half of the shops down here in the city of dragon island—only postponed temporarily from the snowball war sansa and cielo initiated]     just something i’ve noticed.  

@rosaunt        [she was rendered speechless,   if the sudden parting of her lips wasn’t an indicator.  the dark sapphire scarf draped over her messy locks are pulled by the ends with cold hands,  wrapping it around her neck.   she hated winter,   for its harsh winds and icy paths were not easy to navigate.  oh how she missed her bed in this very moment.   shaking her head with a soft huff,  she pulls her coat closer to her frame to capture the minimal warmth it had been giving her]    no——no,    you’re not funny.   get your head out of the gutter.    glowing?   no——he’s definitely..   a little cold..    i’m not talking about this anymore with you.     mm mm,   nope——no secrets here for you to be kind enough to keep.   just keep walking.

mm,  perhaps you should ask beowulf to be more kind to you.   look at him, he’s even glowing.  [he was underestimated greatly for the skill of connecting things.  he connected many things——easily.  even the most complex that was thought to be kept from him well.  it was a skill that made a rosaunt.  rarely is the other half of his house crest is spoken & that may be proof of why snake bites are almost lethal.    no one acknowledges how tightly it wrapped itself around the rose.    his longer strides slow.  burgundy scarf blowing in frosted wind,  green eyes staring with a narrowed gaze;  nothing but ice and snow before them.  he could imagine the struggle his own dearest umbraros was having, flying through thick fog aside the other mounts.   she always did hate the cold,  matteo felt it.   his poor girl. ]    your secret is safe with me.    despite how you,  @stagqrc     amongst others, are terrible at hiding them.   

@stagqrc  but you shouldn’t \have\ to.  [a larger hand wraps around her wrist. not squeezing just..  there.  — still made of flesh,  it’s time of departure had not yet come.   he can hear them inside.   sansa’s laughter,  cielo’s remarks— even picture the expression jace makes when he’s confused.   wherever it was that benjamin had them made them all feel safe enough to be normal again.  as if the world outside wasn’t left in ruin and death nearing their door—all because they knew the king.    that alone forces nate to gently pry her hand away.  turning to stare outward— where white and gray stared right back at him.   the face of winter]     they’re all out there suffering while i’m—    sitting here all warm and cozy and doing nothing.   the “heir” to the fucking throne  and i am nowhere to be found while everyone is afraid.     i can’t possibly be their king. 

@GOLDARMED        [she exhales, slow, controlled——the kind of breath she takes before saying something that matters. her gaze doesn’t waver]    don’t..   don’t make this about what either of us deserve,  nate.   [she steps closer to his person,   embracing herself in the warmth radiating from him.  her hand lifts to his face,   thumb brushing the edge of his jaw,   grounding the both of them]   we made choices.   both of us.   and if hiding is the price for being alive——for you being here,   then i’ll pay it a thousand times over.   you didn’t take my life from me,   you gave it somewhere to go.

living in hiding——because of me. 

@eurysphea       i know.   but i tend to think better when everyone else rests with the sun.

it’s awfully late,    helena. 

@avisonae     truthfully?    i essentially have the power to send whoever i want to their deaths..    but i’m not a tyrant,   so unfortunately it would have to be within reason—    let him commit domestic terrorism or something,   then i’ll consider it.

@stagqrc      no,   but i still want him to die, hel.  can you make that happen?       

@avisonae        let me ask you this,   did you expect any different from him?

@reapsowed     [she stares ahead,   a flat look in her typically vibrant eyes.   he was right,   and she knew that—   threats could only go so far,   especially when it doesn’t pertain their own life and safety.    and while she had never truly ordered an execution,   she was sure this would be the first if many.   only then does she glance over at the rousant,   and by the looks of it?   she has seemed to make a decision]    his punishment is not to die a quick death..    but to suffer.    if he wishes to remain silent,  melt his sword in dragonfire and pour it down his gullet.   slow enough that he feels every drop as it sears him from the inside out.   let him learn—   inch by burning inch,   what it is to be conquered.

— and i’ll usher his execution.  you have that power—same as nate..   he won’t give us anything on bloodbeard if we only talk about burning more than his fleet. 

@stormment     [for the most part,   she was rather patient when it came to taming those fiery locks bestowed upon her head,   but today was not the day.  with each pass of the brush,  it would get even more tangled to the point it was no longer curls but rather a big fluffy mess.   she had already accepted she couldn’t untangle it herself and was more than happy to let it dangle in her hair,   but luckily lennie was there to aid in the war on her head.   once the brush thudded against the floor,   her hand moved to hopefully try and smooth the mess with a soft huff,   yet nonetheless was appreciative]   thanks lennie.    this is the third time this week—    i’m quickly getting to point where i might just go bald.

@stagqrc    [ nimble fingers and perfect manicured nails work around the thick lock of fiery red hair trapped within the snares of her brush.   celine lenore takes her time,  detangling the strands piece by piece until the brush dropped and thudded against the floor]    there,       all better.     

@holient      by all means,   because i’ve already accepted defeat.