open post 2025

[impractical]

leave a starter or prompt; happy to plot first via pm or plurk.
muselist here.
spoilers and nsfw possible, will mark in tls.


wip list of tropes and stuff i pretty much always want to play:

• lotus-eater situation, aka "you're living your perfect life and don't realize it's killing you!"
• pining! you know the hand flex gif from p&p? of course you do
• vampires...
• misunderstandings between people who have feelings for each other, i.e. thinking one of them is interested in someone else and it comes to a head in heated admissions of Feelings
• slow burn over a psl
• ALL the h/c, whether one or two-sided
• fwiw some of my favorite bstreet memes are morning after, train to the afterlife, drunk meme, find them dying, and insomnia
• text is always going to be a yes from me dawg
• classics: only one bed, huddle for warmth
• amnesia???

 

Comments

[betenoir]

[Three members of his family survive but live like they want to die. He cannot comfort all at the same time but he must and so will.

The movement of the ship disturbs his thoughts. He turns his gaze towards the helm of the ship, where the commander is keeping one eye on him and the other on the ocean. But if he builds enough of a connection with these people, he will not pose a problem, and can easily be removed from the equation.]

Not today, mademoiselle. [There is a pause as he weighs conflicting thoughts.] But thank you. It is enough that you ask.

[His voice is low and gentle in letting her down. Some people want to talk, others wish to hide. He finds himself caught in the middle and having to choose the optimal path - and instead chooses the third option of putting off that choice until tomorrow.]

[peindre]

'Course. [ She's quick to reply. It's understandable that it'd sting to talk about the lost, even many years later. They live in a world of death, but that doesn't mean the population has become desensitized to it.

Maelle moves to stand closer to the railing, at the old man's side, staring again out at the inky waves before flitting her attention back to Renoir. ]

...I saw you staring. [ It's a statement, and with an underlying question. Is it because of her age? Maelle is used to defending her choices against those who think her too young for an expedition, so she adds, before he answers: ] I'm as ready as anyone else. I've been training hard for years.

[ Like all the rest. Besides, they wouldn't let her become a member if she didn't have what it takes. There's no reason to bring anyone on the expedition who might be a liability. ]

[betenoir]

[The Gommage. Senseless and simple accidents.

Renoir senses her gaze upon him and offers her a glance; a tired but warm expression that disappears when he wipes his face with his hand.]

I understand, child. You would rather enjoy one year of exploring this world, than remain home where there is no difference in the day other than death.

[His home is nothing but a silent mausoleum. He knows how it feels to live with death.]

[peindre]

[ She nods slowly, turning to press her back to the rail, surveying the ship. The vessel full of 32 year-olds, all ready to venture out into the world beyond the Dome because their time is almost up. And...she, their one exception. ]

I know it's...weird, but it's my choice. [ Maybe it'd been in large part due to her desire to escape the city, but she's a legitimate member of the Expedition, too. She isn't going to be dead weight, or let anyone down. ] I've got as much a right to be here as anyone, and I care just as much, too.

[ She's lived half as many years as the others, it's true, but that doesn't mean her convictions are any less strong. ]

[betenoir]

[Renoir continues looking across the ocean to the monolith. This young girl asserts her right to be here, and she has some level of support in making that choice, whereas he himself asserts the rights of the woman who is keeping them all alive. They are venturing into the world because they have one year remaining. He does all he does to keep time alive.

But there is one fact this daughter of his, who is not his at all, might not realise on either side of the canvas. Sixteen years inside together with the same on the other side, and she is of the right age for this journey.]

I suppose it's possible you care too much. [He sees it everyday when he looks over the ocean. In the words of a woman who is barely able to talk. He feels it himself in his refusal to allow his son to go.] That can be as much a curse as a blessing. But it is good there are those around you who understand.

[Their eyes are watching him, of course. From the commander standing at the wheel to the lieutenant by his side. But the ones watching him closest of all are those of the man leaving the cabin that leads to the lower decks.]