someone or something
more than yourself. Since if you fail
to, you cease
to have a self at all.
Franz Wright, from section 2 of “Observations,” Earlier Poems (Alfred A. Knopf, 2007)
Is this an urchin uprisin’?
me: i will be active! :)
body: no you’ll be sick for almost a month. ⚰
QUICK REF SHEET : MUN & MUSE EDITION.
𝐢. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄.
name: claudia phantomhive, originally
(and preferably) claudia ó faoláin.
nickname / alias: rosemary, c. p., “the bastard”.
zodiac sign: aries.
favorite color: forest green.
any pets: one grey wolf named gelert
(familiar) and seven black borzois lovingly referred to as “the hounds”.
𝐢𝐢. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍.
nickname / alias: red.
zodiac sign: aries.
favorite color: dark red.
any pets: one far-too-humanlike pomeranian and one big ridgeback goofball.
height: 5′1′’. 😔
tagged by: the one, the only, the magnificent @casketdweller! thank u c:
tagging: you, bud. take it and run if you feel like it!
[peeks in] Lady D punching a man through the floor while chewing him out is a whole Claudia mood, just saying.
“This is how it’s always been.” HADESTOWN PROMPTS.
“Traditions are like Progenitors, son,” The hand crested on her chest moved to rest on Ciel’s crown, thumb stroking back some of his bangs. “born to be outgrown. Our family’s many things, but we’ve never been the sort to stay bound to glass slippers that don’t fit us anymore.”
All one had to do was take one look at her — the first female Head in the family. She was, if anything, proof of broken testament that thrived past the nonconventional. The Phantomhive name was still one of pride, was it not? Still revered, and only further enriched since her time. The young Earl above all has only continued to hold up that brand of what it meant to be a Phantomhive; successful, clever, and
ruthless. “The choice is all yours of course, you lead us now.. but is this what you want to do?”
A holiday never celebrated, but it felt… deserved. The young heir appeared before Claudia offering a simple small box of sweets without so much as a word. The only female left in his immediate line he could even consider a “mother”. The embarrassment he already felt heating his cheeks as it was out of line with his current personality.
As playful as the Countess spoke about the day, a warm look came over her eyes when presented with the sweets box. Her boy was so serious so much of the time, so dour - so intense, very formal, but.. here he was! Clearly flustered too, embarrassed by his own act of familial goodwill, she knew that much by the look on his face.
The grandmother’s gloved hand tussles through the young Earl’s hair, fluffing it as she accepted the gift.
“Careful now, I might start thinkin’ ya’ve gone soft for me, son.” Claudia teased, pressing a kiss to the top of the boy’s crown. “How about you and I scuttle off to the kitchen? I’ll prepare us a good drink and we’ll crack this box open together.”
“It’s that time of year where I ask my progeny for their sacrificial tributes to honor from whence they came! Such a shame none of ‘em actually follow through.” She’s kidding, for the most part.
There it is. Sufferable hands fussing about his face like a grandmother would. It was certainly just the shock of it all, but it could be confused for a fever with how red his face had become. “It’s just- No, it’s not his occupation. It’s- Ugh! His lascivious behavior! And with you!” He’s fagged himself out and reaches out to hold onto her.
“’Lascivious’? Son, he has more respect than to act like that - especially in front’a you.” Poor lad, look at ‘im in such a tiss — however, it weren’t no fever he’d been kickin’ up, just the fit of panic! Thank the Goddess for little miracles.
The Countess wrapped an arm around the boy and brought him close for a tight hug, giving him a kiss on the noggin and a fluff of his hair. “Ya grandmother might be married to a kooky Mortician, but she didn’t marry no feelsy scoundrel. Give her just a bitta credit for that, hm?”
A little bit of French, eh?
“Ils disent que la maison est là où est le cœur, ce qui signifie que le mien est avec vous. ♡” A hum, “Would you like for me to continue?”
*They say that home is where the heart is, which means mine is with you.
A delighted spill of giggles! The Mortician is wrapped up in the Countess’s arms within a blink of an eye, hugged close and tight in a secure embrace. Oh, she loved it when he spoke like that. Took a while to learn precisely what he said of course, but she’s knowledgeable enough now to understand - as such is clear by how she is beaming and has a little bit of blush shining past the rouge. “My dear Mr. Ó Faoláin, if it were up to me, I might never let ya stop.”
“Chitter a little more to me, just a little more? It’d brighten my night. ~”
Well, I’m lookin’ right at him! But y’know I never really pegged him for origin - he’s more of a question mark, if you ask me. I do like it when he starts riddlin’ off in French though, I got to admit ~ Why don’t he speak a little to me, mm?
Himbow. Himbeau. Same thing, really.
What a precious pineapple!
your ears are still ringing but it feels already like it was an age away. it’s bittersweet, as if there are only so many more opportunities like this left; looking back, it feels almost like a disguised farewell, glossed over as if to make it sting less.
tagged by: @casketdweller – thank you, dear!!
tagging: you because this was not nice. you get hurt now.
❝Because family is forever.❞
A flash of a grin through the stream of crimson, and a knock of one twin’s fist to the other’s. Red wasn’t either of their color, but blood didn’t clash too much, now did it? Ever since Claudia’s ascension to Countess, it seems they’d been shedding a little more of it together. Well, her spare wouldn’t have it any other way - if one bled, the other did, too.
“You’re damned right it is.” Constance chuckled before fussing over Claudia, taking a handkerchief out to clean the scuff from her cheeks. “But I’d still prefer ya not jumpin’ off a cliff because I did; there’s no need for the both of us to wind up with sprained ankles!”