mordue: (🩸 089)
claudia. ([personal profile] mordue) wrote in [community profile] singillatim2024-05-04 03:42 pm

🩸 you know, you know, you know it all went wrong — open.

Who: claudia et al.
What: may catchall — continuing tdm stuff and settling in.
When: end of april through may.
Where: throughout milton.

Content Warnings: typical vampire stuff, maybe animal death, lots of discussion of fire and burning bodies, murder plots, terrible relationships with vampire dads, will add more as they come up!



i. milton
Nothing about this place feels right to Claudia, who has still half-convinced herself that it's some sort of almost cosmic punishment. She thinks she stopped believing in that sort of thing when the fire in her house started raging, before she even laid eyes on the angel who became Louis, but maybe in her core there's something still there, a kernel of belief in divine punishment. It's stupid. It's childish of her, and she is no child, no matter how much she might look like one to some. The circumstance means nothing, it makes no difference. She isn't being skinned or pulled apart or fed to demons, so she can survive it, whatever it is.

She comes out only at night, resolute to be alone, a slight and small figure identifiable primarily by her head of thickly curly brown hair. She can be quiet when she wants to be, but not silent; the supernaturally keen ear and eye she has used all her life to hunt are entirely gone, but she still has her instincts. Keep low, keep quiet, be unseen unless absolutely necessary. As soon as she can stomach it, she leaves the Community Hall entirely, taking her precious few belongings with her: her diary and pen, and a winter coat that seems far too glamorous for her surroundings, but at least it's fur-lined and warm.

She's not happy to play the role of a fourteen-year-old if she's approached, but it's safer, at least for now. Better to let someone underestimate her until it's too late. At night, she bundles up for warmth and writes in her diary by moonlight. Sometimes there's nothing new to record, but she writes it anyway, just to get the words out of her head.

ii. lakeside
The singular trip she takes to Lakeside is slow-going and unpleasant. She travels by day with the intent to avoid the sunlight while she's underground, but when she actually gets there, she still has to wait for the sun to set, hunched in the comforting protection of the mine's open mouth and waiting for the colour to leech out of the sky. She's tired and bitter by the time night has actually fallen, and to top it all off, Lakeside doesn't seem to have been worth the visit. She reassures herself by thinking that at least she knows it's here, at least she's seen the place once.

Determined to make the most of it, Claudia explores all she can of Lakeside, peering into the cabins whether they're inhabitable or otherwise, and doing a slow circle of the lake in the process.

iii. wildcard
[ hit me up if you want something a bit more specific, or we could backdate something with one of the TDM prompts! shoot me an PM here or on [plurk.com profile] crowders if you want to plot. ]
flanerie: (053)

[personal profile] flanerie 2024-05-05 07:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The delicate control of her sideways slide reminds him of a hundred nights of lessons, as little as she needed them. She took to her nature with all of the eagerness of a child to a new game, and how well she has learned to play it.

Lestat does not search for knives. The most dangerous thing besides him in this room is her, not unattended blades or probing eyes. A danger to his unlife, perhaps not - not on her own, caught off-guard, unprepared for the encounter - but a danger to his heart? ]


I made you.

[ Another step closer. Not enough to catch up to her measured flight, but enough to be heard, the throb of insistence in his tone bruised and petulant despite his tempering. ]

As he asked, but as I chose. How little either of you see fit to remember that. How much more you know of me than I seem to even know of myself, if I am so terribly mistaken in what I recall.

But tell me, if this is true - what would that make you, if you were made for a purpose you cannot serve? What reason is there for you, then, sister? [ He asks curiously, lightly, as if indifferent to the answer. ] If I am so loathsome to him as to be nothing, what hope for you, my disobedient rib?

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flambeaux: Frédéric Chopin's "Raindrop" Prelude, Op 28, No. 15 (gay sad chopin)

spoilers, folks

[personal profile] flambeaux 2024-05-05 01:40 am (UTC)(link)
Lestat has indeed been doing his damndest to get back in Louis's good graces, helped along by Louis's guilt about his role in the attempted Mardi Gras murder. But Louis would not hear a word against Claudia. (He remembers how Lestat carefully handled their family photo--) Louis and Lestat spent their months alternately being angry and soft at each other. There is more than one way to be snowed in.

Lestat knew she was here and didn't tell him. He could have simply hung around the General Store like a gadfly and found him. Another slight to add to the pile of hurts. Louis should have expected that Lestat might want to delay the inevitable onslaught of dirty looks and catty remarks--Claudia learned from the best. Or maybe Lestat had less finesse than that. Maybe he was just feeling petty.

He cradles the side of her head and the fall of curls like she is his own little girl again--forever a little girl in a doll's body she hates.

"This place has taken our gifts," he explains first, because it's the easiest thing to start with. "Or numbed them, I don't know how. That's why we suffer from cold and whatever's in the air outside now. Sometimes it gives back, but different. Lestat can speak to anyone but not hear. I can run like I used to, but I ain't strong. Don't you worry, I'll find you food when you need it."

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clothed: (bp-92)

[personal profile] clothed 2024-05-05 04:27 pm (UTC)(link)
[ allergies? ]

I'm not certain I know what that means. You can't eat certain foods?

[ she knows some people can't eat certain things, because it makes them sick. pregnant women who can't stand certain smells; some children, who find themselves getting sick when roasted almonds or certain berries; seafoods, too, even for some men. ]

What can you eat?

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readytosee: (work through the daytime)

[personal profile] readytosee 2024-05-19 02:47 am (UTC)(link)
Well -- no, no you're correct. I can't expect all of us to have the same circumstances. Of course we don't. We're all from different places, different times, so on.

So -- [He sighs, and rubs at his ear. Apologies are hard, but he does owe this girl one, he realizes.] I'm sorry, you're right. I don't know your circumstances. Just that we should try to keep the peace, as much as possible, if we can. We're all stuck in the same place, anyway.
20likes: (11)

[personal profile] 20likes 2024-05-07 04:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Heartman looks at the mess, and then that bright, bright smile. There's something he can't quite pick up on, something that causes the barest twitch of a frown to start spreading across his lips.

Logic, math, science--he understands that, grasps it very well. But emotion, and--well, girls, despite having had one of his own--is something that completely surpasses his knowledge. That includes this one, it would seem.

The lull is there, poignant, and Heartman clears his throat. ]


You're a new Interloper--It's a pleasure to meet you, despite the circumstances.
burying: (pic#14702833)

i. milton

[personal profile] burying 2024-05-04 10:20 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Even with the surprising acceptance of his whole diet revelation, Kieren prefers to go about eating at night. Still too ashamed and too disgusted with himself to be open about the whole thing. He hates that he has to do it, but it's just... that's just his life now. And while he's cleaned himself up, he can still feel blood under his fingernails beneath the fabric of his gloves and he can still taste gore and brain-matter on his tongue.

He can clean himself up better later, once he's home, and he's headed there now — trekking through the snow at a slow, strangely-gaited pace. Or he would be, were it not for the small figure huddled in a fur coat writing under the moonlight.

He should mind his business, really. Move along, but as he draws closer on his way to pass — shit, is that another kid? There's a whole lot of them here now. Teenagers, like Kieren. Well, not like Kieren. But— ]


Hey. [ He slows to a stop when he draws near enough — all nervous hovering and huge, sad eyes. ] You alright? Bit late to be out.
burying: (pic#14702790)

[personal profile] burying 2024-05-05 12:48 am (UTC)(link)
[ Kieren's head dips a little. It's a fair point, really. Practically a ghost town where all the former residents upped and died, in the middle of the frozen wilderness, and there's a whole bunch of awful shit going on. ]

Mm. It's not so bad, really. It's quiet. [ At least there's that. It does help with trying to sleep. ] Wait until the Aurora hits. You'll definitely not be sleeping then.

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solitarysoul: (Scope)

[personal profile] solitarysoul 2024-05-05 03:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Levi had seen Claudia at the community hall. He's not that happy that she's moved out but hopefully she's moved in with someone or at least stayed close to the center of town. It bugged him to see kids dragged here, so due to his crippling guilt at getting other kids killed or failing to save them he tried to look out for them. Not in the hovering 'I won't let you do anything dangerous, don't leave my sight' way, but in what he hopes is a big brotherly 'let me do the dangerous stuff with you' sort of way. Gods knew he had become pretty capable at a young age and who knew what the kids here had gone through before.

He has no way of knowing Claudia isn't the 14 year old girl she appears to be, so she falls under someone to look out for in his mind. He comes across her one night, and the boy in the oversized coat with the rifle on his back raises a hand in greeting. "H-hi."

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guidemyway: (F2-l5j3XQAAM5uz)

[personal profile] guidemyway 2024-05-11 06:26 pm (UTC)(link)
[Ruby feels a little pit form in her stomach at that question. She kind of wishes she had time to go find another house, but she's not sure there's a whole lot of time for that at the moment.]

Uh- I don't really have a good reason why you should. But- I think it would awfully nice right about now.

[Because realistically. Claudia didn't have any reason to trust her, and there were plenty of other people around who probably shouldn't be trusted.]

My name's Ruby- Look. I'll try and make it up to you if you do this one solid.

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extramuralise: (﹡adds 'haha' to sound less mean﹡)

[personal profile] extramuralise 2024-05-16 05:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, I—

[ Admittedly not quite yet, no, or at least not yet for certain, given how Irving still hasn't had much opportunity to actually search the cabin for any such flammable materials, but if there's any kind of hearth or stove at all (even ones in mild to moderate disrepair) then surely there must be some implement for lighting it. Surely.

He turns his head first to the right, then the left, skimming the room for anything that might easily be burned: oil, coal, liquor, paper, dry scraps of wood, or even cloth, anything which (hopefully) shouldn't be too much trouble to ignite with the aid of flint or a match, or any other combination of dry friction and/or the sun.
]

Y-yes, well, I believe so, assuming there's anything left here that can be burned in the stove. [ Fuel or otherwise. ] I don't suppose you've noticed any oil or perhaps liquor bottles lying around the cottage, have you?
bigbaddy: (002)

i

[personal profile] bigbaddy 2024-05-07 01:23 pm (UTC)(link)
Bigby is out less at night nowadays than he used to - considering he now has a kid to look after, and midnight walks aren't exactly the sort of example he'd want to set in this dangerous place - but sometimes he still can't help himself. Sometimes he just wants to be out there when it's a little more quiet for once, out underneath the light of the moon.

But even though it's quiet, he knows it's rare to ever be fully alone out there. It's why he's not surprised to spot a figure sitting out there and seemingly writing.

.. it's a little more surprising once he realises just how relatively small - and therefore seemingly young - the figure is. Sure, Bigby Wolf of all people knows you can't always judge age just by someone's appearance, but you never know. Maybe this really is a young teenager.

So the man slowly approaches, though keeping something casual in his step, as if to indicate he's not a threat.

"You keeping safe out here?"

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