sureameline - Tumblr blog

[sureameline]

Thank you to everyone who got me to 50 likes!

[sureameline]

sabbioneta​:

Ameline is too kind. Leo was dramatic; but only for Ameline. Though she is always warm and loving towards everybody, it is rare for her to truly feel a special bond with someone. The fear of their inevitable departure was too much; she still aches from centuries old heartbreak. As it is, any fleeting dalliances or friendships she makes now, she is careful not to love them too much. 

But Ameline won’t leave her. Even if she had, selfishly, left him once. “I–” she hesitates, wondering if she can continue this thought honestly. Leo feels, in her heart, that she can. “I will not leave you again. With God as my witness, I swear it. But–” she allows a little, mischievous grin even through her tear-darkened lashes. “If I feel compelled to travel I may try and drag you on an adventure with me.” Ameline is perhaps the only person that can make eternity less daunting. There are other immortals, but none, as far as she knows, as old as he. 

“The world certainly has advanced,” Leo smiles sadly; it goes without saying that, for the two of them, the world may change but Leo and Ameline remain much the same as ever. “Not always for the worse. One convenience I’m quite fond of… there’s a terribly good cafe near here, and if I call them, they will bring breakfast right to my door. We could have breakfast in bed,” she suggests, pulling Ameline gently by the hands to lie back down, wrapped up in each other. With a warm sigh, she whispers, “I was only sad because thinking of you having a family made me think, we can never do that. I can never do that for you.” Ameline would be a wonderful father. He deserves a family. But even when they had met first, all those centuries ago, Leo had been too old to bear children.

wasn’t that the root of the despair ? wasn’t that why she had had to leave in the first place ? she was born to be a wanderer, born to be free. she was born to travel and partake in as many adventures as her long life would allow her. ameline, on the other hand, lived up to his mutation. he stayed, still as the stone that coated his skin, in the cathedral. he would still be there, unmoving, if it weren’t for a passing flight of fancy and the freedom to partake in it -- a flight of fancy that he now did regret. very little changed in a decade, and so much changed in a decade. but to pretend... to pretend that they were not doomed by their very purposes, to pretend that they could be just the same as any two given humans, ameline offered a smile that wavered for only a second. “ it would be my honor to accompany you. ” and it would be ! you know, if they went on one right now, it’d be perfect timing ! but when everything was clear and safe... leonarda deserved better than a statue ( both in the metaphorical and literal sense ! ). “ this... city -- it is an adventure unto itself, is it not ? ” ameline tilted his head to the side... bewildered ! “ like some sort of... breakfast slave ? ” now, he did not support the idea of breakfast slavery, but... that was just further proof that the modern world had become quite convenient. perhaps he could not blame the skyrocketing sloth -- the world was catering to it !  leonarda’s hands atop his, he eased himself back down to the bed. she was gorgeous. deep eyes, warm skin, a soul nearly visible. what had he done to deserve such light in his life ? but her concerns, he believed, were unfounded. he raised a cold stone ( how he wished he could offer her the warmth she offered him ) hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, eyes set on hers. “ to have a family with you would have been such a great joy, leonarda, but you mustn’t need to think about doing it for me. ” it had been something she’d wanted dearly, a family, but he could not accept the simple slip of ‘for you.’ “ you have given me more than i could ask for. ” what a wish to have, though -- children with leonarda, a family built with the woman he loved more than he could express. but it was a part of their plight, was it not ? leonarda had become incapable. ameline did not roam. in a different world, perhaps... “ perhaps we can have family gatherings with our ancestors, yes ? one big family that way ? ” he proposed, only half-joking.

[sureameline]

nearcataclysm​:

         “uncertain?” he prompts, even as he shouldn’t. he doesn’t know what ameline’s mutation truly is, or what he’s experienced through out his long life. david has bits and pieces, stolen from glimpses of others’ deaths, but nothing that tethers itself in any meaningful way to them. death itself can be a fragmented kaleidoscope when it comes to trying and piece it all together, but life? there’s something that’s even more complicated. if he would have to hazard a guess, david would assume it was a matter of familiarity—if not a mutant, who would they be? a completely different, long dead, human. that can be a harrowing thought even for those that live less than one lifetime, let alone many more. they’ve had a much longer time to not only work through their mutation, but to entrench themselves within it.

         but… this time, he doesn’t prompt for more. doesn’t need to, even if he isn’t sure he agrees. what purpose could there be in something like this? in any mutation? the ones they’re given work in ways that go against the nature of every living thing on earth. nothing suddenly sprouts wings, over one generation, and takes flight in that same life. nothing finds itself tormented by visions of the long past or the endlessly distant future. the aberration that has become of humankind is beyond any sight david knows of, but it still eats at him with the same unanswerable question humanity has always had ( a step toward, not away, from them. irony in its finest ) —why are they here?

         “illness.” it’s not bloody or ravaged or violent like so many other deaths throughout all time, but no less unpleasant. david has only seen the end result, but it’s a scene that’s played in his head for longer than any other. a tormented death. “it’s never changed.” some fates, usually due to his own information, can shift the circumstances—but it’s impossible to fool death for long. just as quickly as one passes by, another can be conjured from the void.

.

ameline nodded once, a single and solitary stone. was it worth it to be so close to God ? would it be worth it to be so far away ? his devotion, his faith, got him through each worrisome day. his home, that piece of his soul he could not be with as it stood, provided warm shelter. but he would not need to get through worrisome days if it were not for how he had been fashioned ; he would not need to hide away in the warm shelter if he could walk among mortal men, safe and accepted. was it a blessing ? was it a curse ? even 700 years later, he could not tell. it had brought him the best parts of his life, and it had brought him the worst parts of his life. there was so much to be grateful for, and there was so much to mourn. but ameline was wise enough to know one thing for certain: david, in his despondense, had been punished -- not for anything he had done, not for anything he would do, but because he had been the byproduct of ameline’s greatest sin. their first tryst ? the child had died. it was a kind fate compared to what david got, ameline saw it as a warning for what may come if they were to continue such indiscretions as they matured. their second ? there had been no child, there never could be. and, even if there could be, they did not believe the child would have suffered any terrible fate. they could be wrong, that much they knew, but... would He have allowed such warmth, such radiance ? pure joy. but the third ? they should have known better. they did not feel warm, they did not feel radiance, but they accepted a night of mock love. and, for that, their descendants were to pay the price. they had been warned, after all. that much they knew. ameline nodded, slow and subdued. were there worse ways to go, even in the modern age ? probably. but were the better ways ? probably. “ if i may ask... how old ? ”

[sureameline]

sabbioneta​:

God’s forgiveness is unwavering, and unquestionable. Leo never feels bad for acting against His will because she knows He will forgive; but also because He refuses to meet her, and a petulant part of her wonders if misbehaviour might get His attention as a troubled teen seeks attention from their parents.

Ameline’s forgiveness, on the other hand does not feel so dependable. He always gives it without question, but each time she begs it, Leo wonders if it will be the last time. If he will lose patience. She’d rather lose God’s favour than Ameline’s. But of course he is, this morning as every other, as kind and loving as always. A soft, fresh wave of tears crests over her eyes when he replies with such ease, but this time they fall over smiling lips. He is too good; he truly has nothing to beg forgiveness for.

“There is nothing to forgive,” she promises, rising to kiss his lips in a gentle morning prayer to the one being she needs more than God. Curling up next to him, her legs under herself, Leo rests her head on Ameline’s shoulder, which she kisses before looking up at him with adoring eyes under lashes still darkened and damp. “I implore you not to feel guilty because of my dramatics. I just… had not thought. But I am glad you found companionship. You deserve it. A man so good as you ought not ever feel alone. And I shall pray for you to have a family. I can ask Mark to help me buy another ‘test kit’ for you. It’s very easy, you just brush the inside of your cheek with a cotton swab and send it to them, and they do their tests. I don’t always like the modern world, but… there are some rather wonderful innovations, are there not?”

leonarda was the first woman he had loved. leonarda was the last woman he had loved. never could he see himself loving anyone else as much as he did leonarda, and never could he see anyone else loving him as much as she seemed as she did. she was God’s grace personified, her warmth and her light shining as the sun shone through the midday rose. he could wish for nothing more. sometimes he believed that she was closer to The Mother of God than anyone who walked the earth. he believed, perhaps, that that was why she had been blessed with the gift of immortality. but he understood -- yes, he understood -- why the blessing may feel so akin to a curse for her. he considered his life without the cathedral... even if he looked like a normal man, searching for meaning in the long and everlasting life would be an uphill battle. but there was a reason behind it all, he knew that for certain. and he knew that she had been hand-picked to spread her light, the light of God, around the world. to remind all mortals that He was alive, miraculous and giving, as He had always been. to make sure that He would never be forgotten. and he did not deserve her forgiveness, for he did not deserve His forgiveness, but his heart still swelled when it graced her lips. he could not bear an eternity of leonarda being despondent, much less because of himself. “ i thank you, leonarda, but you mustn’t believe they were dramatics. you must feel what you feel, and i do not wish you to believe you are wrong for it. ” she had every right to feel betrayed, he thought. he had loved no one but she, but he had made the grand mistake of falling.  “ you brush the inside of your cheek ? and that is all ? ” what ease... “ the modern world has... advanced. ” on one hand, you had kappa ; on the other hand, you had swabbing in the inside of your cheeks ; on yet a third hand, you had men and women pretending to be high-schoolers singing about God inside a technicolor television... he had certainly been missing some advancements while in the belfry !

[sureameline]

nearcataclysm​:

         ameline’s next question is easy to think, but not easy to say. would he, given the chance, get rid of his mutation? without even a moment’s hesitation. being able to see the death of all life in the universe has stunted him in every facet of his life, and not only socially. he lives in his grandmother’s crumbling house, scratching his visions into the basement ( when not scratching it into this alleyway ) and doesn’t work. he finds himself sick to the stomach when it comes to eating with the vision that even the simplest of dishes ( meat based or not! ) end up giving him. he can’t walk down the street without being bombarded by the worst of what existence has to offer, regardless of whether he sees anyone or not. and he does. it’s chicago. it’s impossible to be truly and completely alone. why would anyone in their right mind choose to keep such a curse?

         but it also feels like a loaded question. like, despite his reassurance otherwise, that ameline is taking his answers hard. that doesn’t surprise him, either. david doesn’t think he would be able to forgive himself if he reproduced at all, but if the child suffered as he did… that would be something worse even than the curse of life. even so, ameline is not his father. not his grandfather. not his great-grandfather. they are very, very far removed from the lineage that has followed them—their child, maybe, david could see as a responsibility. their grandchild, even. but in this day and age? if it hadn’t been him, it would have been someone else. every living thing is related in some form…

          “would you?” he asks, deflecting. he isn’t very good at it, but it does give him a moment longer to consider how to word his answer, at least. “i know i would, but my experience is my own. perhaps… someone else wouldn’t.” david finds it hard to believe, but it’s always possible that someone else would be able to make something positive out of this. someone who isn’t as prone to madness as himself. “but it doesn’t matter. the option doesn’t exist. we have to…” he grimaces, despite himself. “we have to learn to deal with what we’re given.”

.

ameline’s experience with their own mutation had been a mixed bag. it had stunted their social growth, it had introduced them to many a... humbling man, it hadn’t allowed any room for wandering, it had gotten them ‘killed’ more than once. it was a lovely surprise, almost as if given as a ‘thank you’ ( but ameline knew better than to think they were that special in His eyes ), that they had managed to find love ( it had only taken somewhere over 150 years ! ). but, for all its faults and follies, it had given them a purpose. in the end, it had brought them closer to God.  what they had longed for was control. they were not always entirely stone, they were not always entirely flesh ( well, never entirely flesh ). they knew better than to think their wings and stone horns would ever fall back, they knew better than to think the glow so strong they could not see their pupils would ever dim, but they thought: maybe i can live in the flesh of man. maybe i can choose that. ( it was hardly desirable flesh, especially back then, but they would rather have faced just one obstacle. ) and that very want, selfish of them in the end to reject how God had created them, had trapped them in the confines of the city, lest they put the cathedral in more danger. all to say... they had had centuries to make peace with their mutation, unlike david, and they remained uncertain. they had learned the lesson of dealing with what they were given long ago, centuries ago, within what would have been a ‘normal’ lifespan... but that didn’t mean they had learned how. “ i am here because i am uncertain. ” they wished they were. there was so much to it that was a blessing, but they still wondered... what would life have been like had they been granted the normalcy everyone else was? “ we were given what we were given for a reason, i know this as fact, but... ” -- but what was the purpose to seeing death everywhere someone went ? they wondered, perhaps, if that would be better or worse in the eyes of someone like leonarda than immortality with no explicit purpose... everyone had been given their mutation for one reason or another, He did not make mistakes, but it was difficult to understand the purpose of death... any purpose outside of suffering for the sins of the father. “ prithee. how do you die ? ”

[sureameline]

Jane Mead, from “I wonder if I will miss the moss”

[sureameline]

ofconnell​:

“No, we have not! She’s one hell of a singer too, I almost forgot she was in this episode.” Kristin Chenoweth plays a lady squatting in a home and is talking to Mr. Schuester—the only person Will thinks is sadly of a name with him, because of the various unethical teaching practices that this man performs on hapless teenagers. (Really, the blackmail with weed was just a lot.) He smiles at the conversation and he sees the band strike up a tune that he remembers hearing.

He smacks at their arm and grins, clutching the pillow to his chest. “Oh, oh! Listen, Amy! She’s amazing. Her voice is lush as heck,” Will says to them, nervous giddies climbing his chest like ivy vines. “Shush.”

although it remained... strange, watching people move about, but... not in real time ? ( television and film were quite confusing ), ameline bobbed their head along as well as they could. they turned their head slightly to the side, as they had had the tendency to do when a musical number came on to hear it better, and closed their eyes. her voice was, indeed, ‘lush as heck.’ but then ! they snapped their head back to the screen, eyes narrowed. “ william, have i just heard the berry woman ? ” and then, before wililam had the chance to answer, the berry woman was back on screen ! “ what is she doing singing april’s song ? ”

[sureameline]

nearcataclysm​:

         clearly, ameline is troubled by what he says—he can’t particularly say that he blames him for that, either. david’s mutation has been deeply painful from the moment he came into the world, long before he ever had a truly conscious thought. it has painted his life for the worst in every possible way he can imagine, even going so far as to force him to tear his own eyes from his skull. there’s nothing positive he can say on the experience. nothing about finding strength through hardship, about finding peace in so much strife. but then… what does he say? there’s never been a moment in his life where he considered finding the exact relative that had, technically speaking, started this curse in his bloodline. david doesn’t find an apology necessary, nor does he put blame on him for their shared burdens, but… that only makes it more complicated. the truth will not bring either of them peace.

        but david isn’t a liar. he’s too honest. it’s why he does what he does. most of his lies are by omission, a refusal to share—not an attempt to soothe. “i don’t blame you,” he starts, an insistence… and an attempt to soothe what comes next. “you didn’t do this to me. nobody did. sometimes things are just… unfair.” putting it mildly, but david isn’t going to dump every negative feeling he has on ameline. or anyone, for that matter. “i haven’t found peace. i don’t believe in peace. but that…” is life? yes. but it shouldn’t be. life shouldn’t be. “it isn’t your responsibility.”

.

if they hadn’t given in, if they hadn’t submitted to temptation when they were far old enough to know better, perhaps this wouldn’t have happened. their first child, short as she may have lived, did not appear to have any mutations -- nothing visible, at least. and they had a visible mutation, and david... perhaps not visible enough to impact his everyday life ( they hoped not ), but still something ameline was able to make out when they squared in on it. and they had squared in on the features of their daughter. and she was pristine, looked as human as they came ( perhaps a mutation would have developed later in her life, but... ).  had He forgiven them for giving in when they were genuinely young ? when they were still in the decades, not the centuries ? or had death been the punishment for the sin ? -- a kinder punishment, ameline believed, than a mutation that presented as more of a curse than a blessing... or even just something that was there -- neither a curse nor a blessing, just another part of the whole. centuries spent protecting His home, centuries spent praying for forgiveness, centuries spent in solitude... they should have known better. decades ? youth. still sin, but youth. centuries ? sin, and nothing but. the sins of the father... they wished to tell david that, yes, it was their fault ; yes, they were to blame, but that would be shifting attention. it must be saved for another time. he hadn’t found peace. he didn’t believe in peace. and who would ameline be to think otherwise ? they had found a certain peace within their faith, but... they had had centuries. they did not have the same short lifespan that david would endure, the same short lifespan that may not allow the chance to find -- or believe in -- peace. but... they could relate to it, yes ? “ you would... rid yourself of it were you given the opportunity, yes ? ”

[sureameline]

— When You Are With Me, Adonis (translated by Khaled Mattawa)

[sureameline]

sabbioneta​:

‘No’. Ameline may have been unsure, but for Leo, ‘no’ is the only answer that could stop her heart from aching. She understands lust, and fleshly mistakes. As long as this other woman meant nothing to him, then Leo can understand.

She wonders if he understands. There is a profound, aching need in her for him. Even if she has left, even if she is unreliable, her heart will always belong to Ameline because he is the only one that truly understands her. She wants, needs, that from him too: an understanding that even if they part ways, they must come back together, whether in a decade, a century, or more. She can’t face an eternity in which Ameline does not love her.

Nodding, she turns back to him with wide, tearful eyes. He keeps a respectful distance, ever sweeter than Leo is capable of being; his hands shifting to stone as if in shame. She cannot return his sentiment because she loved before him, but she can say with honesty: “And I will love no one but you, melimelum,” she says softly, voice still wet with tears. Taking his stone hands in hers, Leo kneels beside the bed looking up at him, fingertips massaging at the stone of his flesh, unfeeling as it may be. “I am sorry. I don’t mean to be dramatic. I just cannot bear the thought of you loving another, even though I myself have lived a sinful life. Forgive me for my selfishness?”

ameline could never envision a world in which he loved someone as much as he had loved -- did love -- leonarda. he had felt loyalty, he had felt responsibility, he had felt connection, he had felt lust... but only once had he felt love -- the kind of love he had always witnessed from atop the belfry, the kind of love he had always wished to know. lovers holding hands, kissing in the streets, laughing and embracing and warming each other throughout the cold winters. as the centuries marched forth and notre-dame became a relic, a tourist attraction, a historical landmark, he had seen many a lover get on one knee and present their beloved with a ring. and each lover and beloved glowed. he had only known that glow, that warmth, with leonarda. it had not been the union of their bodies, it had not been the physical closeness he was hardly privy to. had it felt holy ? yes, it had. but holier still was his hand intertwined with hers. holier still was dancing to distant music as she insisted he close the gap so that no other suitor may interrupt. holier still was looking into her warm eyes, blessed with a holy glow. holier still was loving and being loved. he knew that she had been troubled by her mutation. it was what had drawn them together. he knew that she fell in and out with Him, that she struggled to understand why He may not wish to meet her. he knew that she had not been given the same innate purpose ameline had -- the purpose that kept his own faith unwavering, whether he would meet their Lord one day or not. and he knew she was a wanderer. unlike himself, she was not tethered to one place. he had accepted that she very well may have loved before him, and that she may have loved after him. she had the freedom to. she had a pain that, in moments of disbelief, may have been easier to fill with the love of another than His love. he knew this. he had accepted this. he had accepted that, while he may have dreamt of her, she may have been in the arms of another. it would be unfair to expect anything else. it would be unfair to think of her, traveling around the world, never looking for light in the eyes of another. he lifted a hand and brought his thumb to wipe a tear that stained her cheek. it was not the warm touch that the poets wrote of, could not have been, but he wished to finally do something right by her. she had taught him confidence. she had taught him love. he could wipe away a tear. he could offer forgiveness that she did not need. “ you needn’t ask my forgiveness, my dove. ” he had given it to her in the church, and he would again. “ i will always give it to you. ” and he feared it was true. she had given so much to him, he could not think of any act she may commit that he would be unable to forgive. ( though, when all was said and done, did his forgiveness matter ? ) “ though i ask, leonarda, if you may find it in your heart to forgive me ? ”

[sureameline]

nearcataclysm​:

         there’s a solemn recognition between them, that the lot they’ve received isn’t necessarily the lot they deserve. even so, david doesn’t blame ameline for falling prey to the life script, the desire for progeny, any more than anyone else. it’s rare that anyone, anything, think outside of it—after all, what is life but the desire to continue on? whether that be by a person or a bloodline is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. but the minds of the living don’t comprehend much beyond their own short stint in existence. that is a burden that only a select few, david included, are cursed to endure.

         “i see death. all death, from all times, from all places. the first memory i have is of my own.” and after that, his immediate family’s. growing older has only given him space for many more individuals. billions upon billions upon billions… whether in this world or others far beyond his own, have all come to rest within his conscience. it’s no wonder that he’s been considered mad.

.

although ameline saw their features in david -- the stone talons, the light glow of his eyes... inherited, they knew, from their own stone figure and eyes that glowed so strong they could not make out their own pupils in a mirror -- david could pass as a human. that was more than ameline had ever been able to say, thus leaving a faint hope that, perhaps, just perhaps, david’s mutation wasn’t... something that truly hurt him. that, perhaps, he just healed people. that, perhaps, he could simply fly. that, perhaps, the stone talons and light glow were considered mutation enough... but what he said found ameline placing the side of their hand against their forehead. he saw death. his first memory was his own death. for a moment, however brief, the same spirit that swelled within them when the cathedral was under attack took over their being. it would be kinder. it would be kinder to end what their sin had caused then and there. but as quickly as it came, it went.  “ i... do you... ” they didn’t know what to say, what to ask. ameline may have not been familiar with the social script, but they were wise enough to know that ‘how do you die?’ wasn’t much of an icebreaker. had david grown used to it ? perhaps. for his own sake, ameline hoped so. but how difficult a mutation to make peace with... even. if it did not affect his body in the way mutation affected theirs, they imagined it had controlled his life as much as theirs controlled their own. “ i am so very sorry that i have... passed that to you. i would not... ” not have done it if they knew ? -- that was basically telling david, ‘i wish you didn’t exist.’ “ is your life... how is... have you been able to... make any peace with it ? ”

[sureameline]

sabbioneta​:

Leo does not really do heartache, or heartbreak. Many centuries ago, she learned to distance herself from such things because they were inevitable, and relentless, and an immortal life full of that would be unbearable. But she had allowed Ameline to inhabit a different part of her heart. A more intimate part.

“I–” her voice shakes. Leo closes her eyes briefly, trying to shut out the ache. This cannot hurt her. It is not fair. She could not count how many lovers she had taken before Ameline, and after. Slipping out of their bed (her bed, really, but everything that is Leo’s she shares unquestioningly with Ameline), she wraps a silk robe around her shoulders and nods, then shakes her head, pacing to and fro across the floorboards. “Of course. Of course you must know. Of course. That– I–” Her voice cracks, and she can’t hide the fact that she is crying so she turns back to Ameline, dashing a few tears from her cheeks. “Did you love her?”

She wants to be like Ameline. Sweet, kind, thoughtful Ameline, who unhesitatingly felt nothing but joy for her to have found her family. But Leo, selfishly and hypocritically, can only think of how it breaks her heart to imagine that Ameline might have a family with another.

in his life, ameline had taken three lovers. one from the court ( an act of pity on her part, an act of youth on his ) who bore his daughter. his daughter who, as the story once went, would pass hardly a week after her birth. one from somewhere unknown to him ( an act of lust on her part, an act of weakness on his ) who may have borne his child herself, a child who lived. and one from heaven ( an act of love on her part, an act of love on his part ) who had made him feel truly whole, who had allowed him to taste divinity, who had allowed him to feel just as whole as he would if he had a child, if not more so. a kind woman, a lovely stranger, and leonarda -- an angel. his stone heart broke in two at her reception. although it had been two centuries past their first dance ( three, perhaps ? ), it was as good as adultery. he didn’t deserve a child. he didn’t deserve a line, not if all it caused was pain for those he loved and, even more important, the few who loved him. but what was he to say ? he hadn’t loved her. from the little exchange they had had, she was a perfectly decent woman, but he hadn’t loved her. but he didn’t know if that made it better or worse. he wished he had loved her -- it would be easier to accept that he had hurt leonarda, because at least there was a reason, and it would be easier to accept the sin... but there was no reason. he felt like he was withering. for years, as the public grew less and less interested, he felt closer to... nothingness. one night of pretending that he was loved, one night of pretending that he could be something more than he was... that was the only reason. playing pretend.  he scooted to the edge of the bed, as close as he felt he was allowed to get to leonarda in that moment -- close enough for her to know that he was there, but not too close to encroach upon her personal space when she may no longer want him to. and he made the decision: if he were to lie to her, if he were to say that he had loved her, it would be yet another sin to add to the growing bank. and maybe... love, this type of love, remained difficult for him to understand. would she be happier knowing that he hadn’t loved her ? -- no matter the case, a lie would be further deceit to Him... and it would not be fair to her. “ i... no. ” his hands turned to stone, fingers elongating, as the ugliness began to overtake him again -- an ugliness always within, and ugliness always on display, but so often only half-formed around leonarda. “ i wish to make no excuses for what i have done. i have loved no one but you. ”

[sureameline]

echoanswered​:

         admittedly, ameline’s actual request is a little… surprising. not in a bad way! it’s always better to hear something lower stakes in a world where it feels like everything is constantly imploding inwards. “oh, sure. i’m sorry, ameline. i didn’t realize it bothered you.” there’s a part of him that does have to wonder how long they had been thinking about it… if they had just found themselves second-guessing their own preferences. age doesn’t always end up equaling confidence, it seems. “of course i don’t mind. i don’t want to call you something you don’t like,” he continues, offering a slight smile. “thank you for telling me.”

.

a weight had been lifted off of ameilne’s back. he had not offended daniel, and he would now be called by the name that he understood. “ thank you, daniel. ” now he’d have to request the same of william... which was a bit more daunting, given that he and william: 1) had not known each other quite as long as he had known daniel, and 2) were quite different... ( ameline looked rather stone-like, daniel had some bat-like feature, but william... looked entirely human. ) “ i apologize for being so blunt, i was advised to be... confident. ” -- and he was still, and probably would always be, getting the hang of what exactly that meant. 

[sureameline]

ofconnell​:

“No, Amy. They’re not omniscient. It’s just a trope, or a thing people do. Like the chorus in plays!” He says this kindly, though he can feel Gabby staring at the two of them talking about Glee with daggers in her child-like eyes. They were a little clueless on the whole thing, but the both of them had gotten through the episodes and they seemed to like watching Glee, even though the amount of questions about pop culture were staggering. Truly, Will had to make some of it up!

Brightening at something they got right, Will grins at them, patting them on the shoulder and nodding. “Yeah! Cabaret is a really famous one—a 70′s play about. God, I can’t remember. We should watch that too!” A pause before he looks back to the episode, “Dang. I forgot how the Glee club was back in the first season. This is… wow.”

ameline nodded as will attempted to explain in terms that they would understand... which were few and far between -- but were appreciated, nonetheless ! dare they ask what cabaret was ? -- you know, outside of the title of a play ? certainly the program would answer the question... right ?  but before they could even consider asking for more information about this ‘cabaret,’ there was someone... new !? a blonde lady -- one they would have once deemed of average height. “ we have not seen her before, have we ? ”

[sureameline]

nearcataclysm​:

        for… passing it down. while david can’t fault ameline’s apology ( it’s one of his own worst fears, having a child that could end up like him. to say nothing of the curse of life that would be inflicted! ) he also doesn’t see the point in accepting it. or denying it, for that matter. “it wasn’t your choice,” he mumbles, shaking his head. “you don’t have to apologize.” he is only one potential child out of millions, billions, quadrillions more—and given how far back their relation goes, david can only assume that there had been no desire, let alone capability, to pick and choose which traits would be kept. it’s the cruel hand of fate that has given him this purpose, not the centuries-old passions of someone doomed to an even longer, more tormented life. “i don’t blame you for anything that’s happened to me.” whether the world has changed or not ( and it has, to a point. will continue to do so. ) doesn’t matter much to him. he knows how it all began ( or rather, the end of that beginning ) and knows how it all will end. why torture himself with anything else? maybe this is what ameline has really wanted all along—someone to free them of the burden they’ve placed on themselves.

.

ameline understood now.  ameline understood that they had fallen prey to temptation. and ameline understood that they had cursed their bloodline because of it. the sins of the father had trickled down. david bore them. others within their tree bore them. and they could only hope that their bloodline would stay as weak as it was on paper, few descendants left. no one deserved the curse they had caused. no one deserved to suffer for their sins. but they hadn’t the power to stop it. only the hope that it would. only the hope that david would not reproduce, that the few left would not reproduce. only the hope that they would stop the line. end the line.  but please. let it be better for david than it had been for them. “ what is it that... may i ask what it is that you can... do ? ”

[sureameline]

sabbioneta​:

“A musician, yes! I am thrilled about that; I would never have thought that a twenty first century descendent might do a job I could have envisioned even in my youth. And Mark has a ‘pod cast’ where he discusses mutant issues and suchlike. I have even spoken on it before, it’s a little like the wireless” Leo shares this with all the enthusiasm one would expect of a grandmother waxing lyrical about their grandchildren. “They are both so talented and creative!”

Of course, she’s not… totally sure if Terrence still considers themself a musician, since they are on something of a break. And despite having been on Mark’s podcast, she’s still not entirely sure what it all means. It’s sort of a radio thing, though, she thinks. And whatever it is, she’s incredibly proud of them both and so terribly excited to share this with Ameline.

She hesitates when Ameline asks how to obtain the equipment. For himself? Why? They had certainly never had children together. Leonarda had a poor memory but she would recall that! “…Why?” she asks, brow furrowing. She suspects she knows why, but wants to hear him say it. It feels foolish even now, to feel the little tug at her heart. Envy, or something equally sinful. Hypocrisy. But she can’t bear to think of him lying with another.

“ does he play in... ‘a band’ ? ” had bands existed for centuries ? of course ! but had their biweekly viewings of the program glee with william aided in their understanding of modern music ? and modern bands ? oh, certainly ! he would not have known what to ask if they had not ! nonetheless, ‘podcast’ was... entirely foreign. “ a pod-cast... ” even her comparison didn’t help him understand it much... but she had spoken on it and admired the man who ran it ( does one run a pod-cast ? ). it must have been a good thing ! “ you have gotten what you have always deserved, leonarda, ” he remarked, voice soft. “ a beautiful family. -- and you have only met two of them, correct ? ” she deserved more than what she had gotten, really. she deserved the ability to still have children, to still be a mother. but two kind descendants living in the same city as herself ? ...it was not so bad. “ the early 19th century. after napoleon’s coronation, but before the restorations... ” there was no one left to fight. there were no attacks. there was little love. all there was: disinterest. and that was far worse, far more harmful, than any attempts to bring the cathedral down. never was he more empowered than when he was its sole protector. never was he more weak than when he was amongst the very few who still cared. and that weakness was grand. that weakness put him on par with the rest of common man. that weakness found him falling to his knees, alone and withering. desperation had run through his cold veins. and she filled it, if even for one sinful night that he had prayed for forgiveness for for decades. he did not deserve it, but he hoped for it. he did not deserve it, but he believed that, if he were not alone... perhaps it had not been for nothing.  “ i would... i would like to know if i’ve anyone left. ” he had never even considered the possibility... but ‘protection’ had not been involved, he had not seen her again, and, only days ago, he had felt a distant... soul connection. it was possible. was it probable ? he hadn’t a clue. but it was possible, and perhaps this was a sign. 

[sureameline]

ofconnell​:

•

“First—not a woman. Teenager. They sort of cast… weird back then. And no, it just happens!” Random singing on Glee was one thing but the interpersonal drama that stuck season after season and worsened? Well, that was what people stayed for! “And that was last episode, I think. The recap’s saying she quit to be in… a musical?”

had ameline been more socialized ( or... socialized at all, that is ) during the height of playwriting powerhouses like shakespeare and ben jonson, perhaps they would have had something to say about the casting... but, as it stood, casting an adult to play a teenager was just as strange as casting a man to play a woman in their mind ! both were foreign concepts, only one should’ve been a little more foreign than the other...  “ they’re omniscient, then ? ” they asked... genuinely asked. television was confusing enough as was -- the only way to explain a band that knew what the berry woman would sing next was omniscience ! “ musicals... those are plays interspersed with singing, correct ? ”