invocari

[invocari]

Vessel smiled, a softer version of the smile they often gave on stage, and their hand lingered, dry and cool against the other's skin, despite the exertion during their Ritual. They never quite do what a human body is expected to these days.

Of course, they debate whether they are human at all, these days.

"I only do the best that I can, and if it is enough for Sleep, then I am pleased," they whisper back at him. Whether they are pleased with themselves is harder to explain. They always strive for more.

"And you have always earned that pride in spades, IV. Along with III, and II, we worship our best together."

Their breath hitched softly as those fingers reached toward the mask, only to drop to his jaw instead. It was almost too intimate, even though it had no such intention. Still, they lean into it.

"Come, you need to wash up and get comfortable. We are nothing if not on a schedule."

Pride swelled in his chest at the praise, and automatically, he leaned into the small touch, so bold even as to grasp Vessel's wrist as he did so to prolong it.

"Thank you, Ves. So were you, you know," they were always brilliant, always magnificent, and it took a lot for him to not spend the whole show gawking at the others instead of performing. "It is all I want, you know that, don't you?" His other hand reached for Vessel's cheek, but stopped short, grazing their jaw with his fingers in a soft, adoring touch.

[invocari]

8.

Primo kept multiple greenhouses on the Church grounds.

He had his main greenhouse, of course, filled with the plants he used for incense and decoration in equal measure. It was the largest of his gardens, and the one most accessible to siblings and ghouls, as long as they were respectful and asked his permission to enter for whatever they had need of.

The second greenhouse was a little more private, kept behind the kitchens and filled with herbs and vegetables, and fruits. While he didn’t have as much of a hand in this garden, he still cared for it often. He entrusted it mainly to the senior siblings as he had many duties.

The third greenhouse was located just outside of his quarters and was forbidden to all but himself. This one was filled with poisonous plants and warded so that only someone with Emeritus blood might enter. Some of the known plants within were: Water Hemlock, Deadly Nightshade, White Snakeroot, Castor Bean, Rosary Pea, Oleander, Tobacco, and Angel’s Trumpet.

After his murder, the greenhouse opened for no one, and could not be demolished due to the contents within.

The fourth greenhouse was a portable one, one that Primo would take on tour with him and keep in a sunny spot on the bus during their travels. It contained just a few herbs, the ones most commonly used to flavor meals prepared for himself and the Ghouls.

[invocari]

He wouldn't lie and say he wasn't grateful for the way she telegraphed her moves, but it was damned annoying to have to be grateful in the first place.

Still, he flinched when she pushed his shirt up, and her hands were warm even against his own skin. He wasn't sure what in the hell she was, but she ran hotter than werewolves, and that was something to be wary of.

Even more wary was the intense heat that came from her hand, hotter than any flame. He clenched his jaw in order to not howl from the burn of it all, but his eyes still flared a bright gold, and his feature shifted briefly. He could feel her burn the wolfsbane from his body, and his healing kicked in.

Gasping sharply, he swallowed down the urge to scream, panting instead.

"Enough to be used to it. ...We need to go before they catch up."

There had been many times, in Narnia, where Lucy's calm in the face of danger had been needed. It was no different now, with this man who spoke of poisons, his side bleeding and the sound of footsteps further out. Lucy moved in closer automatically, no shiver in her shoulders or shake of her hand. She was still, until she raised her hand, carefully broadcasting what she was doing.

"No lighter," she murmured, pushing his shirt up just enough to see the wound in his side, to examine the skin that looked like it was already trying to stitch itself back together. Strange, but no stranger than a star with a human form. "But I'm sure I can manage. This may burn."

She covered the wound with her hand, concentrating on the palm and pushing warmth into it. She was a star; she burned hotter than anything on Earth. She was positive she could handle a little wolfsbane. She pushed the warmth into his skin until she felt the wound start to heal beneath her hand. When she pulled away, her hand was glowing bright, though it faded the longer she held her hand away.

"Do you get shot a lot? You're very calm about this."

[invocari]

reblog if it's okay for your mutuals to message you and create an actual friendship, not just interactions

[invocari]

if you're writing and find yourself thinking 'this is too weird/gross/offputting/esoteric/ambitious/catered to my specific interests + sure to push away a broader audience' that is the devil speaking and it is a lie. you are already firmly on the right path and you need to double down

[invocari]

Dean listened intently, putting each of them to mind with the face. In truth, he only knew a very little bit about Barnes, and nothing about the others. Arguably, he was most aware of Walker, but everything he learned about the guy made him want to run him over with a car.

Sterling was right, this was a team that shouldn't work. Too much ego, too much trauma, too much variation in chronological age. Hell, the Avenger maybe even shouldn't have worked given how young Rogers had been coming out of the ice, and how much older Dr. Banner was, but... they'd worked.

It had had a lot more promise than this, though.

"Good to know we're on the same page, Suits. Walker... he shouldn't even be allowed the opportunity to make himself a name like this again in my opinion, but... at least he's not a walking hypocrite under the name of Captain America. U.S. Agent, though...eugh. That's the kind of guy you cover your drinks around. Wish I knew enough about the others to make my opinion, but they all kind of remind me of villains trying to redeem themselves."

A pause, taking a bite of his food.

"The press is either gonna have a field day, or be swayed into spinning them better than they are. Depends how shit shakes out."

"Ah."

Sterling stopped eating, put down his fork, and leaned back in his chair to shift his entire focus to this conversation.

"Well, I've worked with Yelena. Absolute wildcard but she's got a good heart. I've known Ava briefly but with her past I... She doesn't seem stable enough for a hero team-up yet. So much anger and distrust in there. Barnes is top notch. No ill opinions there. I have no idea who the older man was, Alexie the papers said? Walker though. Absolute train wreck." And then there was that other guy... "By all accounts this team shouldn't work. The fact that it's even attempting to work is mind-blowing. I mean, teams of unlikely heroes have come together to face adversity before but... Fuck."

Sterling wasn't one to speak ill of others but, well, Dean DID say off the record...

[invocari]

disco drop: midnight3613

also, I'm so sorry, you'll have to send me a friend request. I cannot figure out how to unprivate myself. ¬.¬

[invocari]

7.

Primo is not Nihil’s son by birth but by adoption.

They are cousins on Primo’s mother’s side, and Primo is quite a bit older than Nihil given that he was born in 1930. As far as he’s aware, Nihil was born later, though he can’t be 100% sure given the fact that Lucifer’s gifts do much to alter the Emeritus line’s biology.

When the time came for the Ghost Project to be revived, it quickly became apparent that Nihil had no heirs old enough or ready enough to take on the lead role. The only member of the family capable of doing so was Primo, but if he did, it would break the direct lineage that had passed down from father to son over the many generations.

It was decided that in order to ensure an unbroken inheritance, Nihil would formally adopt Primo as his son. On his birth certificates and all official Ministry paperwork, Nihil would forever be listed as Primo’s father and was treated as such going forward by all who knew the Emeritus men. Even his birthdate was changed to reflect being younger than Nihil so that the inheritance would go unquestioned.

In public, Primo deferred to him as the elder of the two, calling him Father in all formal and informal settings. In private, he was Nihil, and while Primo never respected the man, he was too polite to say anything that would tarnish the family image with their legacy on the line.

[invocari]

Elphaba snorted a soft laugh. She's been accused of being many things in her life, but stupid was not one of them. She was far from stupid.

The temper she was well familiar with, though, similar to her own, and she could have sworn she saw sparks from his hands. It had to have been a flick of the light, though. No one else had power like she had, not even Madame Morrible.

"Are you always this rude? It's hardly good manners to go around calling people stupid when you don't belong."

Fucking shitass stupid portals in the basement of the shitty fucking abbey. There usually weren't even any open unless a Papa was actively summoning ghouls. That's what Dew thought was happening when he was instructed to go downstairs, but clearly not. This wasn't even hell, this was...somewhere else.

It was so colorful. Nothing like the grays and blacks of the abbey.

Dew had intended to throw up a quick glamor before anyone saw him, but this green woman spotted him before he was even able to get his bearings. He was just barely able to get his element under control, keep the sparks from fluttering about his fingers with his frustration.

He just stared at her when she spoke. English wasn't his first language, but he was pretty sure 'confusifying' wasn't a word. "Are you stupid?"

[invocari]

6.

Primo no longer recalls the name he was born with, although he’s sure it’s in some dusty file within the Archives of the Church.

As part of the Ritual in which he became not only an heir to the Emeritus line, but also Cardinal, a sacrifice was made in exchange for the power and the Eye. Power always has a cost.

Primo sacrificed his birth name, and all knowledge of it and the woman that gave it to him.

He knows that he had a name before that day and that he had a mother, but there are no recollections of her appearance or her voice. He can recall nothing other than the fact they existed.

[invocari]

"I was also Pen's headache at my best," he grinned back, all mischief about that fact.

He'd never fallen completely in line with SHIELD, but it wasn't terribly different from following orders from John. Just a bit less toxic, and less likely to be sworn at for an hour straight like he'd remembered from before.

He shook his head a little bit, shooing the memories away. Neither the time nor the place.

"Fucking rich people. I'm good, surprisingly. Still, which is weird, and feels oddly out of place given my string of luck over the years, but it is what it is. Hazel is great, we both do the administrative shit on top of everything else day to day. The baby hunters make me want to throw myself off a tower some days, but trainees are just like that, I think. We have an ongoing war with our neighbors where they hate our twelve foot skeleton, and we keep dressing it up for every possible holiday."

"Well, thankfully I wasn't your department head. You were mostly Pen's headache at your worst." Sterling grinned. "Now that I'm a department head it's Agent Collins who is giving me a run for my money. Don't get me wrong, she's insanely skilled, but as hard headed as they come." But it was clear he was quite fond of her. Perhaps that was Sterling's thing.

The stubborn agents were all his babies.

"That's insane. Fucking rich people." He laughed, knowing Barton knew his wife was included in that. And Agent Miller. And Barton. And honestly, himself now that he married into old money. Not that he at all touched it. He'd throat punched his father in law to make sure he knew they wanted nothing to do with him or his money.

There was just no convincing Sterling that he actually had money now.

"But enough about me and mine. How are you? How's Hazel?"

[invocari]

5.

Primo’s first language is English, having been born in the U.S.

However, he’s also fluent in Swedish, Italian, Latin, ASL, and French.

He’s relatively conversational in BSL, German, Norwegian, Finnish, and Spanish, though they don’t come as easily to him as the other languages. He gets by on three of them due to their similarity to languages he is fluent in.

His understanding of the infernal languages is elementary at best, only understanding a few words, and can speak less than he understands as the pronunciation does not suit his human tongue.

[invocari]

"Tell me about Quintessence, little Ghoul. I understand it as one of the elements, arguably the perfect 'fifth element'. Some would call it a hypothetical form of dark matter as well, but it's not something that is observed by humans. How do Ghouls understand it? How does one heal with it in theory?" they ask, curious, but also challenging her.

Sometimes, they've struggled with a concept or piece of music until attempting to explain it to one of the others.

"Does it not feel right in the physical sense, or that something is missing from it?"

Quin presses her lips together, trying her best not to squirm around like an indignant kit, no matter how much she wants to. Even with her best, the top of her tail still flicks back and forth. "It's all really hard," she says. "Quintessence came to me so easily as a kit, but it feels like something's...blocking it now, I don't know," she sighs, rubbing her face with her free hand. "This body doesn't feel exactly right, and I think it's fucking with my element."

[invocari]

4.

Primo has some undiagnosed sensory issues. This includes an extreme dislike for having things touching his face. As you can imagine, the makeup was a nightmare, and was one of many factors for his retirement from the position.

This is often why you see his makeup applied so thinly compared to the thicker applications done by his successors. He couldn’t bear the opacity of several layers of paint and the nightmare of taking it off after.

[invocari]

"Quin. You are my blood family. That is something those of us topside very rarely have. I can't think of a single reason that Dew would say no. Okay?" they soothe, pinching her calf. "You're not a kit, and we all know it, you're just playing catch-up. You're no more kit than Phantom is, and they tend to have one of us keeping an eye on it."

"But does he like me well enough to be pack?" She asks, full of worry. Dewdrop is also a little scary, though more familiar. He's a ghoul, for one, and Rain is closer with Dewdrop, so Quin knows him better.

"I don't want to keep being treated like a kit," she says, "but sometimes I'm not sure if I'm ready to be totally independent."

[invocari]

OC STRUGGLES IN THE RPC

honestly writing an OC in this community is another set of issues.

the soul crushing feeling when you see “no OCs” in someones rules

constantly having to dumb down your canon

adjusting to adapted canons

the amount of your own canon and lore you have to sacrifice to do that

when you mention wanting to write a canon, people that have never shown any real interest in your OC jump out of the woodwork to encourage you to do it

when you do it, and that canon gets more attention than your OC ever did

the alternative of that: when your first character was canon and you transition to writing an OC, people suddenly disappear

fandom OCs that outgrow their fandoms and muns that feel they have nowhere to put them

endlessly worrying if your character is too sue-ish, even after x-amount of years

TRIPLE THAT IF YOU’RE PLAYING A FEMALE OC

oh my god female OCs need their own post

female OCs constantly being underestimated and dismissed; being held to a different set of standards than other OCs

honestly i know people that are straight up afraid to write a female OC for these reasons. they’re discouraged before they even start because they know they will never get the same acknowledgement

people assuming simple, stupid things about your muse (can we all agree to stop guessing whose muse is taller and just look from now on?)

feeling like you have to jump through hoops to keep up with everyone else and keep your character fresh and interesting so people don’t lose interest

canon blogs that shit on OCs– you realize you were OCs too right? what would the original writer of your canon think?

no seriously, it can be so discouraging writing an OC. how many ideas are you killing by snubbing OCs? the future of creative media is in our hands!

has someone stolen my canon?

is my canon too similar to someone else’s?

do they think i stole their canon?

and what do you do when somebody does steal your canon? it can be so hard to prove and it’s so easy for it to be dismissed

having your OC written off because of the face claim choice– that face is constantly typecast, nobody can take it seriously, they’ve been overplayed and ruined. (we love you, nina dobrev and 1D OCs, you’re doing gods work)

honestly, i’m sure i could keep going. if you ask your local OC muns, they’ll be able to tack a few of their own struggles onto this list. hell, i encourage you to!

[invocari]

3.

Primo is not as… hands-on with his Ghouls as Terzo or Copia have been. Don’t mistake it as a lack of affection, though. He is extremely fond of his Ghouls and looks after them as is his duty.

He does not always easily show that affection, but he speaks it well.