cftragedy

[cftragedy]

@pr0mis

he's not sure if it's especially late or especially early as he slips out of a room markedly not his own. it hardly matters. he's never been especially secretive about what or who he occupies his time with, but he's also not made it as much of a habit as it's become. or perhaps it's more so that he's used to this in the reverse, the other rattling some half truth about why his visits are so frequent, as if any reason would give tyr reason to turn him away.

as he leaves the scottish wing now, perhaps it's the hour or the lighting or his own train of thought that keeps him oblivious until he very nearly walks into another, his eyes wide with surprise as he looks up before schooling into something more relaxed. perhaps relaxed isn't the right word. less like he's a child being caught doing something wrong. "prince lachlan," he nods in greeting, once, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, a substitute for the rocking motion he's in habit of. his luck is abysmal it would seem, honestly preferring if he'd run into caelan or even the swede he'd married over the crown prince. he has no quarrel with lachlan, no, but. well, he has his reasons. "ah, good...morning? though, it might even be too early for that."

[cftragedy]

@engvvll

OUTER BANKS 3x04

[cftragedy]

“i don’t care,” i say, caringly, as i care deeply

[cftragedy]

tyr wasn't used to seeing will like this. it was...amusing. more so now that they knew the fastest way to get the reaction was formulaic. not that he hadn't meant what he'd said. he couldn't explain all of it, couldn't break it down in a way that made a remote amount of sense from an analytical standpoint, but. maybe that was the point. maybe he's a little poetic after all.

"dissipate." he repeats, shaking his head. "no, maybe you're right. i wouldn't want you to dissipate." he tips his head back slightly on the second repetition, melodrama abounding. "i much rather you keep physical form. i'd end up on my back otherwise."

so he'd gotten what he wanted, and it had rendered him stupid. simultaneously his mind was racing and completely rid of coherent thoughts. he welcomed it, the opportunity perhaps for refuge from a mind so often otherwise worrying, contemplating, considering options. now? none of that. now, he simply let himself exist in knowing that within him tyr, normally so guarded and unwavering, found poetry.

he grinned. "oh?" he momentarily turned his head, averting his gaze, perhaps in hopes of composing himself. a small chuckle escaped him, amused at how flustered he'd become. it was a feeling he was not used to, not in this way. "i think it's for the best, like this," he then decided on, looking back at tyr with admiration in his eyes. "you, speaking to me in this senes, with even more ease? i might just... dissipate."

[cftragedy]

@pr0mis

Before Sunrise (1995) dir. Richard Linklater

[cftragedy]

💤 SLEEPING - do they fall asleep easily? what helps them sleep? ( auggie )

auggie does not sleep well! during depressive episodes they will sleep entirely too much, but it's never restful. they always wake up feeling awful. during manic episodes they will struggle to fall asleep at all, and will keep going until they almost literally pass out from exhaustion. even outside of episodes, they tend to struggle either with falling asleep or staying asleep. they're a notorious roamer when they can't sleep, and back at home the servants are very accustomed to trailing them in the night. even as a child, it was difficult for them to sleep unaided.

they've tried a variety of remedies to aid in sleep, and some things are more effective at other times than others. medicinal means tend to be the most effective, but auggie asserts they taste abysmal, and will really only go that far if they're absolutely exhausted.

[cftragedy]

gimme ☁️ CLOUD - a soft headcanon, for everyone!!

tyr magnussen

tyr can keep composure pretty well during meetings or other important royal or political situations, but in his day to day you can Always tell what he's feeling once you start paying attention. he tends to seek out pressure related stims when he's anxious --curling in on himself and squeezing his arms around his knees, crossing his arms tightly, etc-- but being happy has a variety of reactions. he hums often, usually around anneliese but sometimes also when he's by himself. when he was younger and smaller, one leg was always swinging if he was sitting. he doesn't do it as much now, but spinning is another one he used to do a lot as a child, usually on his right foot only. he tends to rock back and forth when he stands, rocking from back on his heels to almost toe walking and back again and he pretty much Always crosses his arms when he does this. when he thinks something is especially funny, he'll repeat it quietly to himself a few times, sometimes immediately and sometimes at random.

ezrak osman

ez can actually braid hair pretty decently, having grown up with all younger sisters. he can't manage the more intricate styles his sisters would have for, say, parties, but a day to day sort of braid? he's got you. he actually finds it fairly relaxing to do, especially since it's customary for women to wear their hair quite long, so braiding takes some time. defne especially used to ask him for help the most, despite being repeatedly reminded the servant girls were much less busy than the sehzade and could also help her. he very rarely minded, however.

augustus windsor

auggie is very much not a vestibular stimmer in the way tyr is, but they have their own go tos. while they do stim with movement at time, they're more discrete. they'll drum their rings on surfaces, usually tables but sometimes just whatever was already in their hands. they also tend to specifically twist the ring ambrose gave them back and forth, though this can be a nervous habit or a simple regulation. they don't hum, but they do click their tongue against the back of their teeth, though not always rhythmically. texture is also very important, and especially when they're thinking deeply it's not uncommon for one hand to move across an opposite sleeve or a cushion or really whatever they can reach that won't raise eyebrows.

emil jönsson

emil says he doesn't care for andrin, and make no mistake. the young prince is not cracking his list of favorite people. but for whatever reason, andrin has taken somewhat of a shine to emil, likely because he considers the two of them near in age. kids have no concept of age, and emil can only explain that he's a grown man so many times. however, andrin regards him almost like a cool older brother, and emil has warmed up to the toddler. he will not volunteer to help mind the prince, but as long as andrin behaves himself, emil doesn't really mind if the boy tags along with him on walks or wanderings. he's started talking to him more, too. he tells andrin about the things he and his friends used to get into, offhandedly promising to show him how to climb trees and skip rocks when he's older.

[cftragedy]

meme day!!

status: accepting / closed

ask box || memes

muses: (please specify or say "all" !)

augustus windsor, crown prince of england

tyr magnussen, prince of denmark

ezrak osman, sehzade of the ottoman empire

emil jönsson, prince of switzerland

[cftragedy]

the other's silence would have unnerved him, made him worry that, though true, his words might have been...a bit much. he can hardly help the way he falls, digs in with claws and teeth like something wild, something desperate. he doesn't know how to feel in half measures, the good, the bad, the altogether terrifying. all of it burns the same. so maybe he would have been worried, if he hadn't noticed the color on his face, the way will almost looked as though he might respond, nervous habit breaking through instead. this didn't feel like rejection, didn't feel like he had to cling any more desperately than he already had. will didn't move. will didn't leave.

he does laugh, a little, slightly nervous, unsure of what comes next. "if you spoke danish i wouldn't stutter so much, you know. i'd almost settle for swedish. i sound a little better." that's mostly untrue, but it's not like will would know, so he probably won't call out the pathetic little line for what it is, just talking for the sake of talking when he's gone through his script and doesn't know what comes next.

will would have denied it, but it would have been quite obvious to even those least gifted in reading people how moved he was as he listened to tyr speak so openly, and perhaps even with some rehearsal behind it - which, if so, made everything even better. the quieter tone of his voice as these words were meant for no one else. it was clear in the light shade of red that crept up to will's cheeks, and the way his eyes softened. not a man of poetry he'd said, but what was this if not that? experiencing this, he imagined, is what men like him ought to write stories about. men off the battlefield with no tales of physical bravery, but ones of life and what to him certainly felt infinitely more valuable than swinging a sword in the direction of your enemy.

and of course, of course he would have said it back, had he not been struggling to find words. none seemed to fit, none would be worthy of following up what he'd just now been told. he wet his lips, considering that if this is where his path in life he'd chosen had led him then certainly he was on the right one.

[cftragedy]

augustus had, frankly, been in a foul mood for some hours now. the travel was heinous, the weather stifling, the threat of illness around them terrifying. they had never fared well even before the plague had swept through, and having narrowly escaped its clutches the thought of another sickness, even if not the same one, had them on edge. so perhaps any other time they might not have intervened, or at least not directly. they weren't often in the habit of being so publicly confrontational. but this day was already abysmal, and the further disrespect to their court in the mockery of a naval commander? well. they had hardly been raised to be completely idle.

"and yet he's been entrusted with a high honor by the king himself. surely you do not mean to speak ill of the king's decisions?" they cock an eyebrow at the duke or earl or whoever he thinks he is, challenging. "if memory serves, you cannot even be entrusted to uphold your family's good name. jealousy is very unbecoming of a man of your station." their expression remains amused, and perhaps they're using their own reputation to their advantage, but they've found it works. the mad crown prince was not often the sort people would waste time arguing against. turning to osric, they only shrugged. "they're a bit like feral dogs, no?"

location:   road  to  portugal,  camp  status:  open @1642hqzstarters​

osric  can’t  remember  the  last  time  he  was  on  dry  land  for  longer  than  a  few  short  weeks.  now  forced  to  travel  by  land,  something  he  was  no  longer  accustomed  to,  he  would  no  doubt  lose  his  mind  by  the  end  of  it.  to  add  to  his  misery,  he  found  himself  locked  in  conversation  with  members  of  high-born  class  with  the  conversation  slowly  drifting  to  his  upbringing  as  a  farmer's  son.  

he  was  far  too  polite,  and  too  unskilled  in  court  games,  that  he  simply  answered.  “  you  are  correct,  m’lord,  “  he  nodded,  eyes  quickly  scanning  the  camp  they  were  resting  at  for  an  escape.   

[cftragedy]

augustus, admittedly, had taken to an old habit from childhood in an attempt to even survive this carriage ride. it was miserable enough to travel so far, and at the height of summer, and with a baby? miserable. absolutely miserable. everything else that had piled on since seemed to only confirm the calamity. they'd found a small respite, if for a day, but in the days since it seemed something had shifted. they hardly knew the reason, though they feared it to be their own doing, an overstepping perhaps, or a misunderstanding of their situation. they hardly knew, but everything had compounded to leave them with little choice but to be elsewhere, if not physically then in spirit in some way.

so they'd been lost in some mindless thought of being anywhere else, memories of summers back home littered with reminders of the present, almost certain if they listened closely enough the wind carried a familiar laugh back to them, if only they could--

they blink, suddenly aware nathaniel is speaking to them, and turn to look at him. "oh? um, yes. incredibly so. with all this...nonsense and disaster it feels as though even when we do stop, i am tethered to this god awful carriage." they're aware they sound petulant, and unbecoming, but they feel as though they might go as mad as the whispers back home made them out to be if things did not improve. "if you've any distraction, i'm open to it."

CLOSED STARTER - augustus & nathaniel @cftragedy

nathaniel had never been a fan of travelling in a carriage, in fact he was was considering trading his space for a horse so he could ride outside rather than feeling every lump and bump in the road travelling through his feet into his body. travelling with a newborn was also starting to wear him down. he liked children, but enduring a long trip with one was another matter entirely. still, the duke was trying his best to be a good friend and help as much as he could, he had no intentions of falling out with his friends.

he'd been quiet for most of the trip, a part of him hoping he may find a way to drift off to sleep but as soon as that seemed possible the carriage would hit another rock and wake him. the duke looked to augustus, his brow arched. " perhaps we should play a game to pass the time? since you look as bored as i feel. are you? "

[cftragedy]

will's hand moves to his neck, just brushing against his cheek, and he leans slightly into the contact, his hand unconsciously bracing himself to stay at least mostly upright, landing just shy of the other's shin given their current position. "i'll remember to thank them for that later." his own tone is still light, amused, even while color still tinges his cheeks. it wouldn't leave easily even if will had put actual distance between them, and he hoped he wouldn't, anyway. he sighs, melodramatically, and also looks away a moment, as though he needs to call upon some sort of divine strength in this moment. he doesn't, has stalled and danced around this point enough that he's chosen and held back plenty of the words he speaks now.

"i hardly feel i need to say it. do i need to tell you i find you captivating, that i would be content to remain right as i am now for longer still, that you...you are one of the few people at this god awful summit i would even allow to hear me speak like this, that..." he trails off here, pausing only to drop his volume some, aware of their proximity not only to each other but to the carriages and rest sites around them, keenly aware that some in his own travelling party are too curious for their own good. he means this only for the man who, quite literally, holds him in the palm of his hand right now. "i am not a man of poetry, or expression, or any of those things sasha goes on about. i don't...understand when he talks about the way wind whispers to him or what he means when he compares people to flowers or birds, but i do know if he asked me what crashing waves felt like i would tell him about the way the light catches your eyes, if he wanted me to...tell him what warmth sounded like i would tell him about the way you laugh when i don't even realize i've said something funny. if he asked what i thought the color red tasted like i would tell him that when you worry at your bottom lip when you concentrate i almost think i know. but...if you want to hear me say it, i, ah. i suppose i like you, yes."

"oh, my face. i know," will all but groaned in teasing as pulled away only enough to be able to look at tyr. "the gods did not hold back when they sculpted me." his gaze momentarily thrown sideways, he made a show out of pretending to push a strand of hair behind his ear. and though he was determined to not let it show, the compliments did affect him. even if they were spoken in the name of mock distaste. they seeped through the wall he'd built as a result of being not enough. and he too would take to ribbing in lieu of feeling vulnerable, but the dancing around it only made him want to prod further.

his hand found the side of tyr's neck, thumb brushing over his cheek. as he spoke it was still with playfulness, but his voice was also now more determined than before. "come on, humour me. say it."

[cftragedy]

tyr's well aware he rambles. he rambles, and he's sometimes late to notice shifts in conversation, and it's a game of chance to see if he'll pick up on a joke. his family is long accustomed to it by now, and most people will at least overlook it. but he knows when he's being placated and when someone actually listens, and outside of his family there's a handful of people who will do the latter. will's not, like, top of the list --the captain of the guard has been listening to his ramblings basically all of tyr's life-- but he was there.

he watches the way will's expression doesn't waver. if anything it gets worse. tyr chuckles, only floundering a little. will veers at the last second to whisper to him, and now they're both so close. tyr's aware he could, in theory, completely derail this conversation, even if in a way he's still proving will right. "oh, no, clearly you've misunderstood. i actually cannot stand you, i'm afraid. you're entirely too smart, frankly, and you're even almost funny, which is just too much. and, gods, your face?" he raises an eyebrow at him, smiling just a little. he'll give him this much. "am i meant to focus on anything else?"

will hadn’t sought an answer by his question, but he didn’t have it in him to confess the fact. instead, he listened, nodding along where it felt appropriate. not making a show out of listening but rather genuinely trying to store away the facts for later. not with the intention of ever using them practically through actually poisoning someone, but rather so that if the topic ever arose again he would be a little more adept and able to keep up.

as tyr spoke danish he couldn’t have translated a single word, but it didn’t matter. despite the attempt at throwing up a wall through questioning and the narrowing of eyebrows, he knew. with the sweetest shade of red and the softening of eyes, he knew. tyr could be speaking nothing but danish and he would still understand. not word for word, but by gestures such as letting himself be so easily moulded even by the lightest touch. he leaned closer, to where their lips could easily have brushed against each other had he not steered away in the last second to instead whisper in his ear, the grin he was sporting practically audible through his words. “yeah, i think you like me.”

[cftragedy]

he hums for a moment, actually thinking about it. "i am not advocating such a thing, but...at their size...three, maybe four leaves worth. it's hardly enough to kill them, but they'd be quite ill. it can cause fits, though, so there is still danger. it can also induce a strong panic, so it's not the most subtle of methods." he has to make himself leave it at that, though he does have other suggestions. nightshade would cause hallucinations in small enough doses, arsenic would be entirely too strong, but, maybe--

will tilts his chin to look up at him, and he blinks, as if remembering only now that they'd been having an entirely different conversation. like you like me. his own eyebrows furrow, and though he's painfully aware their current position and will's teasing have color staining his face, he still makes the attempt to keep up the little act. "how else am i meant to look at you?" he asks, and maybe that's veering a bit too earnest. he glances away only a second, looks back again with something a bit softer. it's a bit cowardly, but will's the one insisting he can't learn danish, so. "can you blame me? look at you."

"hemlock," will parroted. "right. and how much would i need for two burly men?" he waved his hand, dismissing himself. at the mention of danish lessons, he chuckled. the language sounded so strange to him, like something made up in a fairytale. paired with his unforgiving accent he was a hopeless case. "what do you mean? i'm way ahead of anneliese already. hej hej."

his fingers found tyr's chin to gently turn his head back, eyes meeting and his own with a playful glimmer in them, searching for traces of what he had earlier caught a glimpse of. "like you like me," he teased. his eyebrows narrowed slightly, eyes still searching, mouth grinning - no intentions of letting this go so easily to be seen. "i didn't tell you to stop, did i? i quite enjoyed it."

[cftragedy]

tyr makes a show of rolling his eyes at the other. "you hardly need a blade to fight dirty. you don't even need to get close to them. you're smart. use that." he pauses, as though he's thinking. shrugging after a moment, he adds, "and a little hemlock never hurt, unless you're careless." he wasn't the most forthcoming with his, ah, second hobby, but it wasn't a total secret. it hardly served him as much purpose if no one knew. even then, this is a dark joke at best. he hardly thinks will should go around poisoning his own brothers to prove a point. "though, if you'd rather learn danish, we do have some weeks until we're meant to arrive. i should be able to teach you and anneliese the same amount."

it's his own turn to feign ignorance. he doesn't quite meet will's eyes, not an altogether unusual thing. he's long since learned if he focuses nearby --his eyebrow, in this case-- the other rarely notices that it doesn't quite line up. his own expression morphs to a practiced confusion, not unlike when he would try to weasel his way out of tasks by insisting he didn't know how to do them. "look at you like what?"

william could sense the effect of his words even though it was played down, and this alone caused him to smile almost victoriously. whether it was a change of tone in the other prince's voice or the way he hid his gaze away he wasn't sure, but he knew. "oh, the reason is far from ridiculous, tyr," he countered, and it may have been an imaginary scenario but he was still sure of his words as he spoke. "it's you."

he had scars to match gained from defending himself against swords when he would rather not have, but he knew the one on tyr's face even better than those on his own body. he'd looked at it longer, studied it closer. "you would not give me a dagger to hold, yet you think i should learn to fight dirty?" he shook his head, unwilling to admit that even the thought scared him no matter in how fair or not he should fight. he brushed the entire conversation off before it had any time to take root. "i will be fluent in danish before i learn to fight. now, why do you look at me like that?"

[cftragedy]

his tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth, not a sarcastic or bitter sound for once. "as if i'd ever allow you to do something so stupid for such a ridiculous reason." he doesn't look up at the other, his eyes too fond, too ridiculous. does it say something about him that this amused promise to burn down a castle for him makes something in his chest lurch? maybe it's not so much the promise itself, rather the way he...almost believes him.

he knew his answer wouldn't be well met. he'd tried to skirt around it, but will knew by now if he prodded tyr would yield, and that didn't always have to be a good thing. "you could learn to fight dirty. i did. any one of the guards i oversee could best me physically." he waves to his face, motioning to where the scar is, admittedly, hidden with their current position. but they both know it's there. "give them a reason to reconsider their opinion. because for what it's worth," he leans against will a bit more to turn to look up at him now, fairly certain his expression was less mortifying now. "you might not be winning an arm wrestling competition against them, but no matter how hard they knocked their heads together they wouldn't be half as smart as you. even if your danish is bad." the ribbing is added on almost as an afterthought, a reluctance to end on a vulnerable note. or, worse, for will to think he was pitying him.

the chuckle sounded like music to his ears, knowing it was because of him. he joined it in a smile, having a passing thought of burying his face in tyr's hair and staying like that until the world miraculously fixed itself. "if you see it fit that we should wait," he agreed, nodding in feigned thoughtfulness. "you mustn't worry about consequences finding you. for you, i would set the flames - throne or no throne."

he wished he hadn't asked the second tyr started to explain to him what he was better off not hearing. the movement of shoulders made him want to straighten his back in an attempt to prove the prince's image of him to be wrong, but then again perhaps that would only have the opposite effect. a sigh escaped him, probably more frustrated in its nature than he would care to admit. "i am weaker, what else is there to do other than to accept the fact?" he asked, doing his best to sound like the fact didn't bother him. "lest i want them reminding me each time i should be foolish enough to act as though i'm not." he wilfully ignored the part about overcompensating, only accepted the words at surface level, clung onto details in hopes of quickly steering the conversation in another direction.

[cftragedy]

tyr allows the action, tension seeping out as his head comes to lean just against the other's shoulder. any other time he might find it a bit ironic he tends to gravitate towards people whose instinct is to hold him. he could sit here and analyze the way he just seems to know who these people will be, and find ways to get close to them. max comes to mind, but he doesn't want to linger on that. they had barely spoken at all until clara's...passing, and then once tyr had returned it had been all marriage announcements and babies and-- he understood. people and time move on around him, and he does what he can to keep up. he chuckles once, somewhat choked, at the suggestion of arson. "perhaps that can wait until after i've assured your rise to the throne. i would likely need to seek asylum for that." it feels a bit ridiculous, joking about fratricide and arson during what was intended to be a peaceful summit.

tyr considers for a moment. people were hard to read as individuals, yes, but. he found if he was around them enough, their own individual rules and habits became clearer. "you carry yourself differently." he says, "you..." he pauses, trying to remember the word. "curl?" he moves a shoulder trying to explain what he means, not quite hunching but letting it pull forward, almost a guarded sort of stance. "it is usually a sign of..." don't say submission don't say submission don't say submission "...regarding yourself as weaker. you do it to your brothers most often. and then you...overcompensate. and the need for control cannot come from anything positive. mine does not."

this was the most directly he'd ever heard tyr talk about what had happened to his sister. he refrained from further comments, ignored the part of his brain that scrambled to come up with any possible advice in favour of simply listening. "come." he moved in to wrap his arm around the prince and pull him closer, resting his chin atop of his head. "what i know is that you and your family are not alone in wanting answers, though it may feel like it. nor does it undo what has happened." he sighed. "what if you and i head back to switzerland to set their castle aflame? it wouldn't solve anything but perhaps it could be therapeutic."

he arched an eyebrow, unsure of whether he actually knew what tyr was talking of or not. their minds may be similar but they simultaneously worked in very different ways. he opted for playing oblivious, offering a small shrug before he spoke. "miss what?"