ᴛʜᴇ ǫᴜᴇᴇɴ's ᴄᴏᴜʀᴛ ♕ closed; started

[meadow.]

C O R D E L I A

tagged: darcy, vixen, avis

The first time he said, "Stop it," Cordelia's mouth dropped open in fear. He really was going to deny her forgiveness. He was really about to shut her out for good. Cordelia braced herself for the final blow— but suddenly, his expression softened.

"You're making a scene," he said, and Cordelia refrained from answering with "I know." If she thought she could wait, she would have done so. She had to just spit it out, lay it all on the table like the piles of papers and books in Darcy's office. Additionally, Cordelia hypothesized that having witnesses might make the genius a bit more civil.

"I forgive you," Darcy revealed. Dee's legs felt suddenly shaky with relief, and she released a slow breath.

A breath which was instantly taken away by his gradual nearness. He hadn't been this close to her in weeks. He hadn't touched her– even just her hair– in a month or longer. As he whispered secrets in her ear, her face flushed pinker than a sunrise, and she fidgeted with her hands behind her back. Whatever had inspired this treatment was well worth the fight to Cordelia. Maybe she'd consider talking back more often? Then again, Darcy's intent was most likely not to reward her for bad behavior.

"You're tired," Darcy observed, and Cordelia shook her head No, but the words fizzled out on her lips as she yawned right on cue. As usual, he was correct.

And still, he was so close. Cordelia began to wonder if his feelings for her had changed again...

As soon as she heard Vixen's snide remark, she snapped right out of that reverie. Besides, it just... it could never happen. She couldn't have feelings like that if she wanted to... she just wasn't human enough.

...Right?

"I think... I think you're right, I should rest," Cordelia stammered, nearly tripping as she took a few small steps toward the door. She cast Vixen a look as if she were afraid the demoness would somehow stop her, before scurrying off to her bedroom, where she intended to stay until the sun, yet to rise, was suspended much more steadily in the sky.

[Ghostarriver]

Goes to France for more funds, comes back with more guns! And shi - no precious birb oops
Avis Savant
Le Frenchiest FryBook Keeper♢Male♢Age: 27♢Wereraven♢Location: The Library♢Tags: CALL ME SON, ONE MORE TIME Lilith, Nervous but she can’t really show it Cordelia, Vixen Chika-blast! Darcy Never saw a guy more in need of a break


“Diagnoses from the Dead ,” Avis repeated to himself, quietly, without turning his head to the scientist, slipping the chain back into his pocket. “I’ll see what I can do.” For the second time since he had returned, Avis changed into his secondary form, using it to ascend to the upper level, faster than he could walk.
With all the Natural Sciences section before him, it took a few minutes to pinpoint the Biology subsection. 560, 565, 570... 574. Gotcha. Technically, nothing was particularly assigned to this division, but, Avis had felt that it was appropriate to mark books that didn’t exactly fit into any other class, in the Biology section, as 574. He eased out the four books he had concerning autopsies, carefully blowing the dust off each one of them. There were around two hundred pages each, on A4 sized paper. Eight hundred pages worth of information would be sure to cover everything Darcy needed, right? He did a quick flick through to make sure there were no missing pages, nor any page bent, bitten or ruined in any other way, shape or form. Everything seemed to be in order and Avis set off back downstairs. As he walked by, he pulled out a fairly thick encyclopedia concerning the human body in general. He had recently put that back, so he was certain it was in good condition.

Avis’s movement was quite swift, and he was on the ground floor within seconds. However, instead of handing the books to Darcy, he continued to a small desk with a notebook and quill next it. Settling the books down, Avis picked up the quill and quickly wrote the registration, title, date they were being taken out and who was taking them. He left the return date blank, knowing it’d be a while, before Darcy gave them back. It was around that time, Cordelia left, and Avis looked her way, before turning to Darcy. At least the problem seemed resolved.
“As requested, Doctor Eckhardt.” Avis beckoned Darcy over, while flipping the little book shut. “I-if you have need f-for anything else, l-let me know.” The Wereraven couldn’t help but add, “D-do you r-require assistance? T-to take the b-books to the L-laboratory, that is?” Avis barely heard himself.

Evanna
Hearing the approaching Angel, Evanna had whipped around, leaning forward, her claws outstretched. When she decided he wasn’t a threat, her stance became more relaxed.
The eagle flexed her toes, listening to Michelangelo’s scolding. Any previous amusement had disappeared, now that he had come and she was prepared to simply take off. Yet, she didn’t wish to leave Lilith, partly because she enjoyed the vampiress’s company and partly because Avis had asked her to look over the girl, in case anything happened.
Once Lilith began to leave, Evanna adopted a more comfortably position on Lilith’s shoulder, casting a glance at the Angel, now in the for of a child. She threw a sneer over her shoulder, and chirped, before returning her gaze forward and stone hard.

[feather_light_flight]

╔════════╗

║
║
║
║
║

L I L I T H
12/ 123- female
D A R L I N G
library
V A M P I R E
MURDERRRR
(jk)

║
║
║
║
║
╚════════╝

It didn't take long for Lilith to make her way back to the castle, and her spite drew her back into the library where the door shut heavily behind her. With a stone cold glance at it's inhabitants, Lilith stalked up to the balcony area, grabbing one of her books along the way. When a vampire raged, people normally left them alone. And indeed, Lilith radiated a murderous rage only seen few times before by her or by her king.

With a quiet, cold gait, Lilith selected a dark and shadowy corner to perch in, opening her book and reading as an attempt at distraction. In all reality, her blood still boiled. There was nothing she resented more than the pain of being treated like a child, and Michelangelo's behavior had been the straw the broke the camels back. Stupid stupid Angel. Her parent? Who did he think she was?!
Lilith knew well and good that she had no soul. No vampire did. She had spent centuries killing and had made her peace with it. And that holier than thou angel had the audacity too..ugh no she wouldn't think about it. She didn't want to think about it.

[champ goldie]

┌────────────────┐
♔.x...x𝙲𝙰𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙻𝙴 𝙲𝚁𝙾𝚂𝚂.x...x♔
└────────────────┘
the royal tailor ✷ tagged open ✷ where in his DOPE studio y'all

"oh dear..." he sighed, dropping his luggage at his sides directly on the floor where he stood. camille had been away visiting some family as per his king's permission and had missed...some stuff. but worse than that, his studio--the place where the magic happens (not real magic, but he has been known to try a hex or two)--had been absolutely demolished in his absence.
the dishwater blond boy scurried over to his work desk that was basically unrecognizable. "Who did this?" he asked the air and the occasional ghost. he pinched the bridge of his nose and crossed his arms.

what was once a place of true beauty was abolished by dusters. and rags. and someone with a really good sense of organization. camille's studio was typically a disaster zone. the kind that made you watch your step because you might step on something--living or dead--but in a fun, cute and endearing way. he wasn't like a hoarder or anything, he just preferred to indulge himself and get lost in his craft. who had time to clean when he was really workin' that needle and thread?

camille put his hands on his hips in an oh-so masculine way and walked over to the wall of his paintings. at least that section was unchanged. he stared at some of his work with pride, joy, and suffering™.
the tailor finished his narcissistic ride and walked over to the drop off station where people could leave garments and other interesting fabrics that needed a little repair. the stack was pretty high so camille decided to get to work. he had been visiting family the last two weeks due to a death. a common occurrence and theme in young camille's life. the boy had a magnet quality about him regarding the supernatural and overall deadness of things.

camille fetched one of the king's undershirts and dragged it over to his work desk and set it there while he made some cocoa. he was one of those annoying types that didn't drink tea because he thought it tasted like his own personal hell in which satan himself served hot disappointment.
there was a little kitchen spot in the studio the size of camille's good luck (small) which worked a lot better than the latter.
he knew he'd unpack eventually, but he wasn't feeling up to it because his travels took ages so he was mostly tired and he also hated dumping stuff out of luggage. he felt much more comfortable just plucking the necessary items from bags as they became needed.
as he stirred his beverage, he pondered what he might have missed while he was away. hopefully the crew was doing sublime. he took an elegant sip of the cocoa which ended with him spitting it back into the cup and holding back tears because it was hotter than fiery disappointment (tea).

when he finished the shirt he was working on, he decided he'd check in with the rest of them. well, not all of them. camille thought some of the people in the castle were the human equivalents of tea.
hm. camille really hated tea. please take note.

[Panna Cotta]

ᴅᴀʀᴄʏ ᴠᴏɴ ᴇᴄᴋʜᴀʀᴅᴛ
〖Mad Scientist〗〖Human〗〖25〗〖Form〗〖Location: The Library > The Lab > Castle Halls〗〖Tags: Cordelia, Avis, Vixen > Open〗

Darcy watched Cordelia as she left, and after he was sure she was gone, let out a sigh, his expression hardening to stone. Maybe that would placate her for a while, slake her all-consuming thirst for attention. With any luck, it would keep her satiated long enough for him to get back to business and finish this autopsy.

Right on cue, Vixen entered the conversation with her obligatory teasing remark, and Darcy felt his soul wither a little on the inside. Clasping his hands behind his back, he shot her the most regally unamused look he could conjure, but said nothing in response. There was nothing he could say that wouldn't give her more ammunition. So with that, he returned his attention to Avis, who by now was writing something at his desk. Still with his hands clasped behind him, the scientist approached the wereraven. A quick once-over confirmed Darcy's suspicions, that the bookkeeper was recording information with his quill.

When Avis offered to help take the library books back, Darcy was fully prepared to decline; he didn't like being indebted to anyone, and it looked like he already owed Mr. Savant quite a bit not only for keeping numerous books long after they were due, but also for essentially abandoning the bookkeeper to search for Cordelia. However, when the scientist's eyes fell upon the stack of books he'd ordered, he privately marveled at how thick they were. Over 1000 pages of reading, total. Nothing worth more than a few all-nighters intellectually, but physically, they might prove quite a challenge to move all on his own. At best, he would look perfectly ridiculous trying to lug all of those back to his lab with no assistance whatsoever.

"Actually," he said, "some assistance would be much appreciated."

16 hours later...

Darcy tapped his papers on his desk and sighed. The electric lights had blown out a few hours ago, not one by one, but all at once, fizzling out completely in a shower of white fireworks. That meant it was a problem with the entire system, and Darcy sighed internally, knowing he'd have to fix it later. Until then, he had resorted to candlelight again. Dozens of candles, scattered all throughout the lab. Candles almost as numerous as the sea of empty coffee mugs which had left brown circular stains on his parchment. The whole arrangement was one big hazard, and knocking over the wrong thing could be disastrous. Thankfully, Dr. Eckhardt didn't knock things over.

"Incised wound," he muttered to himself, his hand considerably less steady than it had been at the beginning of the procedure. "Length on the surface less than the depth to which it penetrated..." Reaching over, he grabbed something metallic which glinted gold in the firelight, and slipped it into a small drawstring pouch. Sealing the pouch, he pushed his chair back and grabbed the stack of papers off his desk, exhaling with the relief of one who has finally finished a long-term project.

He had discovered the nature of the murder weapon, and what's more, the exact cause of death. This would surely help deduce who the murderer was. In one motion, he swept himself out the door, stopping only briefly to check the time—9:00 pm. Had it really been a full day since he'd started this? And still he only had the preliminary results. He could only hope he had plenty of time before the murderer struck again—if they struck again—to get together a fuller report. In the meantime, he felt obliged to seek an audience with the King and report what he had so far.

Gently shutting the door behind him, the scientist, looking and smelling not unlike he'd just crawled out of a grave himself, strode down the halls, hoping that His Majesty would be awake by now, and at the same time, hoping he wouldn't run into any diversions along the way.

[feather_light_flight]

╔════════╗

║
║
║
║
║

L I L I T H
12/ 123- female
D A R L I N G
library
V A M P I R E
sad lil lilie

║
║
║
║
║
╚════════╝

Lilith slept much less than other vampires. Only a few hours of the day. So even as the sun set, Lilith could be found outside, wandering about the gardens. hidden from the sun by a delicate black parasol. Her gothic style dress lent womanly curves to her delicate figure. Perhaps a result of her argument with the angel yesterday. It wasn't like she hadn't been treated like a child before.
But perhaps she was very tired of it...tired enough to takes steps to remind those around her that she was in fact...an adult, even if she was trapped in the body of a child.

Tightening the grip on her handle, the angelic and yet dark creature took a seat on a garden bench, peeking at the blood colored clouds from under her lacy guard.

[Ghostarriver]

Goes to France for more funds, comes back with more guns! And shi - no precious birb oops
Avis Savant
Le Frenchiest FryBook Keeper♢Male♢Age: 27♢Wereraven♢Location: The Library♢Tags: CALL ME SON, ONE MORE TIME Lilith, Darcy Never saw a guy more in need of a break


Avis almost sighed in relief when Darcy had allowed him to help carry the books. If he was able to, Avis would have gone any way, but that would have been very uncharacteristic of him, he could never argue.
After setting the books down, he had lingered for a moment, looking Darcy over once, with a sad expression, before leaving, shaking his head and trying to ignore the voices in his head. Having seen Lilith in the Library earlier, he went to look for her, but when he got there, he’d fallen asleep at a desk.

*le skippity skip of time*

Instead of a rooster crowing in the morning, Avis had Evanna screeching in his ear, which always caused him to jump and fall backwards out of his chair. And every day, Evanna would perch on the desk and laugh until he pulled himself up. “Why you little-” Avis had had enough of it, instantly shifting into his raven form and chasing after the eagle, intent on catching her and giving her a good talking to. Evanna easily sped in front of him, gliding effortlessly through the halls. Avis barely notices himself racing past Darcy, nor did he stop even then. Though, he did plan to talk to the scientist later to see if he could convince the man to sleep. But first now his mind was set on Evanna alone.

Eventually,, Evanna flew the coop, exiting through a window, Avis in tow. It was quite an amusing display, until Avis noticed Lilith sitting outside, alone. He landed on the floor in front of her, and tilted his head, returning to his human form. His head remained tilted, until he sat down at the end of the bench, keeping a little space between him and Lilith. He didn’t want to approach her too soon, in case she was in an ill humor and snapped quickly. He scratched his head for a second, wondering what to do and realised that Evanna had snapped his hair tie again, leaving him with what some called ‘a bedhead’. His thick mass of short curls was arranged haphazardly, the best he could do to make it look presentable was to straighten it out a bit and make it look more equally spread.
“Lilith? A-are you upset? W-what’s wrong?” He enquired, softly.

[White Eagle]

🕊𝕄𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕝𝕠 ℙ𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕞𝕒🕊

𝕔𝕦𝕡 𝕓𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕖𝕣 ~ 𝕞𝕒𝕝𝕖 ~ 𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕝 ~ 𝕝𝕠𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟:𝕔𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕝𝕖 ~ 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕤: 𝕍𝕚𝕩𝕖𝕟,𝕃𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕙,𝔸𝕧𝕚𝕤,𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕪

As the young vampire shouted at him he could only feel a small rain cloud form above his head as he regretted his decsion.
All angels when they come to Earth they only know two things which are to defend others and kindness, yet other emotions are difficult. When he saw her eyes show a look of disgust he could feel his heart sink and his child hands come together. Finally as she told him how he has no emotions he could only think about whether he should agree. Yet, the right answer was the fact that he didn't learn them yet. Humans were exposed to emotions at birth yet he was just exposed to emotions just about six months ago. His lack of emotions wasn't due to being uncaring but due to being shunned from emotions.

As she left he decided to cover her tracks of this death which he would always do for her. Lilith could yell at him and hate him until death but he would always be there to cover her mistakes. He took the body to the priest, prayed for his soul and went to tell the family of the accident. When he met them he was in a form of a child and talked about how he and Will were close friends and how he'll miss him. The mother cried into his shoulder as he calmed her down. "I-I'm sorry. He's with the angels." After about half an hour he left and head back to the castle with some equipment.

As he walked through the common room he noticed the dagger was missing so he just assumed that Lilith picked it up. Michelangelo seemed too not be fazed by Lilith's insults he was just going to be distant with everyone which everyone would notice the quick shift. Going into the kitchen he finished his supper plan and within an hour he sent the servants to get everyone down for dinner. Instantly after he heard footsteps he want to his bedroom. No one ever enters his room-so he always had a board full of possible theories and information on people. He was an angel but that doesn't mean he wasn't blinded by the true wickedness of people. Sometimes he would be artistic and draw his friends/nature. In the middle of his storage closet he had a almost completed painting of Vixen, Lilith and the king. There was a space on the right that he could fit himself yet he debated on putting imself there because of what it would symbolize. For some reason when he studied humans he realized that they had one thing he never had which was.....a family. All angels were from God which made him their father yet they didn't have children, wives, nor would they grow old and see their memory of their past selves be a precious gift. Lilith wan't a girl in his mind but she was something that made him feel more human, same with Vixen and Yeong-suk.

His inner humanity was empty yet he only wished for it to be filled.

(This sounds so sad in my mind. But I think you guys might find it cheesy.)

[meadow.]

C O R D E L I A

tagged: darcy, camille

Cordelia didn't really remember falling into the closest thing to sleep she was capable of, a sort of meditative trance. The next thing she knew, however, she was waking up, with the crimson light of a setting sun glaring through her small window. Her bedroom was a tight space, but she kept it very tidy. It was almost totally opposite to Darcy's laboratory in that it was totally devoid of the smell of blood or dust, and it was very much in order. Cordelia wasn't sure how long the strict maintenance of order would last, but for now she was too grateful for her own space to risk cluttering it up.

She felt much calmer now, more peaceful. She was so glad things with Darcy had smoothed over, though his behavior was puzzling at least.

Of course, she couldn't waste time worrying about Darcy's behavior. That was one of the first lessons she had ever learned.

Cordelia ran her fingers through her hair very gently as she tried to smooth out her appearance. Only so much could really be done, but she felt a bit better by the time the sun had dipped below the horizon. Just as she was about to step out of the room, she noticed a set of loose stitches across her left shoulder and collarbone. Somehow they'd snapped and had been slowly unravelling, probably for a while. More than likely they'd come undone in the same fall that had split her wrist, which ached worse now than it did when the stitches had popped in the first place.

With a sigh, she went to her desk and pulled open the drawer, only to find it empty.

"Rats," she muttered, wrapping a scarf over the area as she hurried down the castle hallways. No thread, no needle, and no way she could bother Darcy at a time like this. He had important work to do, and she'd been far too disruptive already. With any luck at all, the tailor was already home from the latest funeral.

Cordelia figured it couldn't hurt to stop by. If she could just get ahold of an extra needle and thread, she could probably stitch it herself.

Being around the tailor tended to make her a bit flustered. He was so pretty, and so much like her Darcy, yet lacking the scientist's customary layer of ice. She'd have to squash her apprehensions, though. She had to fix her shoulder before Darcy noticed. He might not appreciate this new deterioration, and Cordelia feared being pushed away again. She needed a needle and some thread, rather quickly. If she could just get that, she could fix her shoulder, and then everything would be fine.

She knocked on the door as delicately as she could while still being audible, praying that there would be some answer.

[feather_light_flight]

╔════════╗

║
║
║
║
║

L I L I T H
12/ 123- female
D A R L I N G
garden
V A M P I R E
everyone read
this and cry for
my lil babe

║
║
║
║
║
╚════════╝

When Lilith turned her eyes to the kindred librarian, her gaze was glass, fragile and ready to break at any second. A sheen of tears had coated her normally dry and hard eyes, leaving them exposed, light blue irises giving way to the image of rain on a sunny day. It was the gaze of a long broken soul. If soul could even describe what was left of Lilith's humanity. According to Michaelangelo...it didn't.

With a tired sigh that cascaded off of porcelain lips, the delicate doll of a woman turned her attention back to the sky. In that moment, the world seemed ready to bow in around her. There was too much tension held in the curving of the sun, too many flowers rustled with the wind. It was as if the entire world was on a precipice, ready to break in and leave that poor, twelve year old body in a vast space of nothingness. And perhaps it was. What was a monster masquerading as a girl, if not an abomination on the face of such a beautiful and genuine existence?

"I have committed the deepest sin a vampire can hold. I have dared to wish for the affections of purity, and have damned myself to be burned by it's light." When Lilith normally spoke, she was strong, sweet, musical. Now...it was like slamming a mallet into a tuning fork. There was nothing but a hollow metallic ring that echoed of a lonely A flat note. "I will never admit to loving anyone Avis...this...form that houses my soul will never allow for love to be given or received...not truly. And yet...I find it so easy to wish. There are few creatures in the world that can match my form...can provide any sort of solace to what I've been through...but.."

The statement dropped away as cornflower blue eyes began to bloom with droplettes, threatening to spill over onto the girl's cold cheeks. With a firm set to her shoulders, Lilith righted her posture up straighter, staring off into the darkening sky with the firm determination that no tears would be allowed to be shed. Her sentence was left hung in the air. How does one finish such a statement after all? By admitting that the only person she could ever love would forever be too blinded by his own light to even peer into the depths of her dark dark world? Or perhaps that his eyes were already trained on the womanly curves of another? It didn't matter. Lilith had long ago faced the consequences of eternal loneliness. Like back then, this too would pass.