claudinies-blog - Tumblr blog

[claudinies-blog]

DISCORD DROP, mutuals only!

[claudinies-blog]

god reaper!claudia is basically No Chill

[claudinies-blog]

ofribbons‌:

A crown of petals fell neatly into the golden locks, the sunshine dancing off of each one sharing their glossy glow with all who could see. Elizabeth allowed a playful laugh to escape as her grandmother then raised her arms in such a fashion. Child hands clapped together followed by cheerful giggles. “Let’s fly away from here someday !”

       FOR one such as her to hear such LIBERATING words spill out from the child’s mouth was a BLESSING; let’s fly away from here someday! And if only she had the courage (courage, dear heart!) to spirit herself away from whatever it was that BOUND her to the crown, and in Elizabeth, she sees freedom. We will fly, mother, Frances had said at Elizabeth’s age, and Claudia was so instantly REMINDED of her daughter’s determined conviction that she beams at Elizabeth, nodding in agreement. ❝ In courage, we will! ❞

[claudinies-blog]

diabolus-noctis‌:

“The young masters grandmother?” A hand placed on his chest as he gave a bow, a heartwarming smile upon his features. Who knew the young master had this kind of family still remaining. “Please, do come in. The young master is in his study, currently being tutored.”

        ❝ NO, no, it would do no good to disturb him; I shall be by the Pleyel, if you don’t mind. ❞ And she was referring to the piano, the old broadwood thing that was passed down in the family.  ❝ You are....Sebastian, correct? Do forgive me if I’m wrong, I tend to have so many names remembered that they’re simply all over the place. Age, if you may, ❞ she dismally says, having realized that it has come to the point where she had to blame her own age for a LACKING mind.  ❝ Goodness, you remind me of my own butler in my childhood... ❞

[claudinies-blog]

discord drop: apollo #6548! 

[claudinies-blog]

ofribbons‌:

*.ﾟ☆ [Starter call ! ]

“Grandmother, don’t you just enjoy how pretty the flowers look ? I love the roses and white lilies !” Elizabeth said, as she twirled around in the mixed field of flora. “Come with me, let’s pretend we’re fairies !”

@claudinies

       AND truly, there is nowhere else on earth that could compare to the country of roses, in which every English girl abides by the laws of the flowers! Gaily, she laughs; there is a crown of roses, their petals softly pink in her hands, and she raises her arms to crown her granddaughter a most veritable MAY QUEEN.  ❝ We are not to pretend today, Elizabeth; we shall be fairies in truth and deed! ❞

[claudinies-blog]

diabolus-noctis‌:

@claudinies - Starter call! 

“I do believe I recall seeing a photo of yourself within the manner…” Spoken quietly as he gazed upon this female, the features were almost recognisable. Relating to the young lord in some way. “Has the queen sent you?…” Naivety played with his mind, unbeknownst of the females true occupation.

       IN all surprises and quiet shocks, one could very well appreciate the learned skill and reticence of keeping one’s bearings. And does he not bear the same, imposing manner of a companion of hers a long while back, who grew up with her and remained? She inclines her head; there is a sense of respect to the man who had taken care of the house in her absence.  ❝ From a long excursion in Germany, I have returned home. I believe that you are personally serving my grandson? ❞

[claudinies-blog]

deathlymemoirs‌:

Claudia was in a proper fury that day… Whatever might have happened to trigger those flames was definitely nothing any living soul could possibly put out.

And I warned them. I warned the others… But they didn’t listen. 

Words that would ring ominously in his mind’s eye like a mantra before the Undertaker neared his index to his lip in something that well resembled the sign of silence.

❝ Do you remember what I told you just the other day? That every life has a special value of its own… And you should value your own, for you’ve only got one. ❞ The Undertaker didn’t much fancy repetitiveness, so he merely took a step back, bowed theatrically her way, && smiled. ❝ Is there anything else you’ll be needing, Lady Countess? I shan’t be coming to your manor any longer, worry not… But you know where to find me, should you ever see yourself in need of my humble services. ❞ 

Humble was a mild way to put it. The sorts of information the Undertaker usually kept under his sleeve for the price of laughter were the kinds folk would take to their graves with them. Blessed be the skills of a Grim Reaper, who could peer into the cinematic records of the living && the dead alike, in the blink of an eye, for a lingering tale of their life histories. Not that Claudia, or anyone, would know… The information itself was one he usually kept under lock && key lest the dispatch caught wind of it.

      DID he not know that this was her way of PROTECTING him, the damned sod? He needn’t know her pains, her sufferings, as well as her numerous sorrows to the point where she could very well DIE of sadness (very much like the novels that most her age loves nowadays), but she remembered what he said. Of course, she remembered. Words that held much weight, especially in the grander schemes of life served as a veritable piece of advice, and as much as it ought to weigh on her, it did not. She recalled that she had said NOTHING about his reprimands; your life is precious, your life is valuable, he said, but he very well did not know that a long while ago, it was worth rat waste.

      ❝ You ought to know this better than anyone, Cedric, ❞ she says quietly, EVADING the true meaning of her words. Her soul had been sold a LONG time ago, and she merely looks at the clock every day, counting down the days of her own DEATH. ❝ There is no life valuable to my person any longer; we belong to the crown, and always have been. ❞ She lies.

[claudinies-blog]

deathlymemoirs‌:

That she was annoyed right out of her mind, he could tell. And while by no means did the Undertaker have a superhero complex, he’d hate to see that man coming after Claudia for revenge. Surely, Her Majesty, the Queen, would rightfully excuse her for the castration of a raper, no? She could always ask one of her allies to do it… Not the Undertaker though. For that wasn’t an enemy of his, but an enemy of the Queen.

❝ Of course, Countess~ But, you see, if I’m not coming to your manor, you’ll have to come to my shop should you want information. Surely, you know that much~ ❞

Already, the man behind the Mortician was begging for mercy, but it wasn’t the Undertaker’s mercy he should have been on his knees to beg for.

SHE certainly would need permission from the Queen, who would think all sorts of things about her should she even SUGGEST performing castration all on her own! And what would that demon even think; he’d LAUGH as hard as the Undertaker, and while EMBARRASSMENT was the LAST thing that she wanted, there was something that is to happen the week after, and she steels herself to not be swayed by Cedric’s words.

       ❝ Then let it be so; you are NOT to come. I shall find sources by myself throughout the week. You must know that what I just said is important; it is IMPERATIVE that you are NOT to come to the manor next week. Are we clear? ❞  she asks. There is an urgency to her words, and she closes her eyes to avoid seeing his face searching for answers.

[claudinies-blog]

deathlymemoirs‌: 

The Undertaker did not lie. He might have been one for omitting information quite often… Keeping to himself that the loss of speed was minimal. Ordinary, really. But a liar he was not. Demons lied… as well as humans. And he just so happened to have been neither. Not that she would have known.

❝ The yard shan’t do it, Countess… Any sod could bribe that lot into his freedom should he have enough cash for it. But freedom ought not to buy him a new manhood still. And the knife is yours, is it not? ❞

       SHE allows the wounded man to be led away to her estate; in actuality, she has grown TIRED of the night-time excursions that usually led to nothing more but an increase of MORBID yet necessary actions. A DOG, a dog; to call the members of the family as such by the crown seemed all too DEMEANING to her all of a sudden, and she thought of the CONTRACT she had made when she was but a girl, a painful reminder to her physical state.

     ❝ Yes, yes, the knife is mine; since you wish for me to have it OFF so fervently, then I shall INDULGE you, and you shan’t come over to the estate for a whole week. Bugger, I’m ANNOYED, and thank you ever so much! ❞ Clearly, she is not at rest.

[claudinies-blog]

deathlymemoirs‌:

Now, that was one way to make him positively shook… with glee. 

❝ And what? Do you expect the shot to go right through me and then hit your target? Put the gun down, Countess… Your bullet is losing speed about as soon as it is fired. And that man isn’t worth your silver. I’d personally suggest the knife. ❞

What he meant by that? His favourite, of course: castration to the rapers.

      AND if all bullets were to lose speed as soon as they fire, would they ever HIT anything? There lies on her face a most PINCHED expression, as if she had CONTORTED it that way to look like a witch scorned. A shot; she stays true to her word, and it hits the shoulder of the criminal easily enough. ❝ Would you rather I do it, or send him to the yard at ONCE? ❞ she snaps irritably.

[claudinies-blog]

       ❝ IF you do not stay away from my range, I WILL shoot, and you know it. ❞ Rifle at the ready, there is no HESITATION in her aim, and she’s almost had ENOUGH of the man’s constant teasing. ❝ Without warning. ❞

@deathlymemoirs / starter call

[claudinies-blog]

       STARTER CALL ! like for one, or if there is anything specific you’d like, hit me up on IMs !

[claudinies-blog]

"It's ... It's for you, grandmother. " The visit to the Phantomhive manor entailed this: a bouquet put together with Paula's aid, his show of appreciation for all the work she's done for the family. Gladiolus: strength, conviction, honor. Gardenias: family. "I -- we -- all want to know you better, too." ( @bornideals )

       IT is for her, he says, and she knows the language of the flowers all too well; it has always been the CONVICTION of their family, ancient, cold and powerful as it is. Yet, behind the blood, there is a fact that the younger generation knew NOT of their elders’ work, and she reaches out to take the bouquet, wishing not for the preservation of her family’s innocence (for innocence means DEATH!), but for the preservation of their own lives. And to know her is to know the family; she puts the flowers aside and pulls her grandson into an embrace, painful as her arms may be.

[claudinies-blog]

sopranomafiosa‌:

Despite how unladylike it must have made her look, Rosa could not help but wrinkle her nose in utter bewilderment. “My dear,” she began, trying to loosen her features with little success, “I must confess I have no idea as to what you are talking about. The only danger I’m afraid I face are overzealous admirers and sore throats.” What would she know? She’s a child. She kept trying to convince herself of such, at least. “Not supposed to see you? Why, have you somewhere else to be? Where are your parents?” She leaned a little closer, spotting the other’s odd eyes, registering how strange they looked for the first time.

What was going on with this girl?

       THERE is a slight contemplation; this is as much as she can tell Rosa Vanel. Her job was to merely PASS on the word, and nothing else; truly, the woman could figure it out on her own. At the mention of overzealous admirers and sore throats, a small smile surfaces on her face upon remembering a friend of hers who held the same occupation as Vanel, who had the exact same problems asides from hiding her severe respiratory problems.

       A hand raises; she makes a SLICING motion at her own neck, and then behaves as if NOTHING has happened the next second.  ❝ That is all I can tell you, signora! ❞ the uncharacteristically CHEERFUL reply comes, and it is as if she truly has embodied the guise of a young girl once more.  ❝ Simply my job to tell you. The London District made sure that I passed on the word to you. ❞

[claudinies-blog]

sopranomafiosa‌:

The woman remained utterly baffled at the little girl’s input. While, in a way, Rosa could see her point, the complete propriety this little girl possessed, coupled with her odd greeting gave her such pause that she feared her jaw may land on the floor.

“I see, well, if it will ease your worries, I shall take this suggestion into consideration. Now, pardon me for the digression, but I believe you said something about death?”

What on earth had that been about? A close friend with death, the girl had said. While she’d never said so out loud, Rosa could consider that the case. Even so, if anyone were to tell her this it would have been a family member, not some random little girl.

       INDEED, she HAD said something about death, and it was almost a RELIEF to Claudia that the woman had asked again about her ominous way of relaying a simple message. Protocol be damned; in her life, she never even adhered to the protocol of most things in her work, and she settles for giving the woman a proper answer, farfetched it may sound.

        ❝ I did, didn’t I? Yes, I did, ❞ comes the confirmation. She absently wipes her glasses and puts them back into her pocket; with death comes a HORRID case of near-sightedness, but there has got to be a way to get her vision back somehow.  ❝ Signora, those involved in dangerous business tend to be good friends of death, and I shall tell you; you are NOT supposed to be able to see me, much less SPEAK to me. I am here merely to give you advice; whenever you see me, you are CLOSE to death, and I dearly hope that you may AVOID it as much as you can. ❞

[claudinies-blog]

sopranomafiosa‌:

Well, goodness, what kind of greeting was this? Rosa was no stranger to scathing reviews of the common, misinformed public. As more performers from other parts of the continent trickled into London, there were bound to be cultural differences, but this? This was a child! How many operas could she have possibly witnessed enough to know? Perplexed, but not perturbed, Rosa leaned in to better speak with the little girl.

“Might I help you, ragazzina?” she asked, attempting to quash the utter strangeness the girl’s words left in the air. “I take it you did not enjoy my performance?”

      WHILE she was sent here (with no help at all from the London District, in which she had an on-and-off relationship with) to figuratively DRIVE it home to the soprano that her ties to death were as STRONG as a well-tied rope, the fine arts were something that she truly wished to enjoy IMMENSELY. There were some that were, in her opinion, so pretentious that she had faked illness many a time when she was still alive, yet in this period of her death, she found that she could finally speak to the leading lady of the show to give her opinions with close to NO repercussions, save for a bit of verbal lashing. Yet, she decides to comment instead of criticize; it is far easier to lapse onto business later.

       ❝ No, no, Signora Vanel, you were EXQUISITE as Olympia, but I think far TOO much so. Too genuine, if I may say that; our Olympia is a doll, thus I believe that it is alright for you to loosen up and not try too terribly hard. A sense of.....artificiality would do the trick, for I’ve known that this aria is among the HARDEST to sing. ❞