#and kita SPOILS her rotten don’t even look at me

[emmyrosee]

LMAOO I AM H*GH AGAIN BUT LISTEN-

kita shinsuke is a sucker for animals, maybe even more than he is for kids. If there is an animal on the side of the road, he’s taking it to the vet. If there’s a quiet “mrrow” when he’s walking home, he’s pulling out his water and letting the poor thing drink until it’s content and purring happily. And if there is a dog in a rainstorm, you’d best BELIEVE he is not above sitting with the poor thing under his umbrella, letting the rain slow down before slowly leaving with a heavy heart.

And one day, one of the dogs follows him home. Which is fine, kita assumes he’ll just feed her some human scraps and she’ll be on her way, but when he wakes up the next day and she’s waiting for him by the door, he feels strange, knowing that there’s a dog who recognizes him and all he’s done for her.

When leaves, he pets her soft head, and when he gets back, he does the same, talking babyish and cooing sweetly at the stray. He’ll let her stay, but he’s definitely not going to keep her, that’s way too much responsibility right now! He’ll wait for her owner to come get her.

Then it starts to get cold. So he puts a few blankets down for her to curl into. Then, she starts following him to school, so he has to tie her to a lengthy leash in the yard. Anything but deciding to keep the dog- she may have a family, and he’s just going to steal her? Risk growing attached? No. Not on his watch.

But then, it starts to snow, he hears the poor thing whimper during that first storm. He can’t sleep, he feels so guilty for it, they weren’t expecting snow for weeks out- but she’s crying for him, for warmth, and kita just can’t bring it in himself to ignore her.

So. He sneaks her in. Claws clicking softly against the floors, he guides her snowy body up to his room to spend the night. The dog’s tail wags, her tongue bouncing jovially as she watches kita stumble around to make a small doggy bed out of clothes.

..before jumping into his bed.

“Oh no,” he chuckles, tugging at the blankets. “No no, that is not an option.” The dog merely looks at him as if he’s the bother in this situation, her furry head laying on the mattress. Not to mention, he’s talking to a dog, how late was it-

“Come on, get down,” he says firmly, snapping his fingers at the pile of random fabrics to cushion a spot on the floor.

The dog closes her eyes sleepily.

Kita groans. It’s not like she’s a small dog either, he can’t lift her and place her on the floor. Even so, she’d obviously jump back up. He sighs in defeat before slipping in the bed next to her, and damn, she does feel warm and without even thinking, his fingers wrap around her floppy ear to rub gently, as he used to do with his favorite stuffed animal as a child.

The next day, kita buys her a collar. he takes her to the vet to make sure she isn’t tagged, and he’s thrilled to find out that she’s not.

Because he’s never slept better than with that furry beast snuggled against his legs, snoring happily.

Because it’s then he realizes yes, she does have a home; now, with him.

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, KITA! You’ve been accepted for the role of CORIOLANUS. Admin Minnie: Kita, I genuinely don’t think we’ve had a Cyrus like yours join us in Verona. The way you capture both Cyrus’s beauty and his ugliness both. All that entitlement, all that arrogance, all that charm — you’ve grasped it masterfully. You understand Cyrus on a deep, personal level; but that’s not why I was so excited to accept your application. Ultimately, it was this line that really won me over: “But mostly, I am here because of this: if I do not stand witness to a falling star, if I do not love him as he is–, then I fear no one ever will.” I’m already in love with your Cyrus for who he is, and all the potential he has to ruin my life! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER Alias | kita Age | 20 Preferred Pronouns | she/her Activity Level | I think I can be fairly active. I am a full-time student, so my priority will always be there, but I always aim to get my replies done within a week. 6/10 or more? Hopefully more. Timezone | EST 

(also English is not my first language so pls be kind)

IN CHARACTER Character |

Cyrus Vicente Sloane ; CORIOLANUS FC: Lorenzo Zurzolo

Alt fc: Wolfgang Novogratz

What drew you to this character? |

oh Gods, where do I begin? Of all Verona’s monsters, Cyrus Sloane has to be one of the worst. At once, spoiled rotten, cruel and innately duplicitous, Cyrus is an arrogant princeling whose tyranny knows no bounds. And yet, as soon as I finished reading his biography, I knew it was over. He materialized in my mind like some sort of phantom, flashed that winning smile at me and visions of him haunted me ever after.

I saw his head across Brigette’s lap on a lazy summer afternoon. Sipping champagne out of long-stemmed glasses, wearing filigreed gold masks to cover their ugliness inside, the two of them are tyrants, fickle and fiendish things about to wreak terror on a city that has only known it.

———— “do you love me, cyrus?” she pouts. he smiles. when he kisses the petulance from her lips, there is no answer needed.

I saw his lips tilt upward into a smug grin as he and Lawrence meet up in a dingy bar. When the time comes, he throws his head back with laughter, he leans in, whispers something just loud enough for the other man to hear. This is a dangerous game to play, Lawrence knows. Nothing, after all, is ever given freely. But one look at Cyrus, at that indigent boy who seems not at all concerned with his traitorous tongue nor the consequences of it, and his fears are momentarily assuaged.

———— “all of this is just talk between friends, signor vernon,” cyrus says, waving off worries with an unconcerned shrug. lawrence pauses, raises an eyebrow, “is that what we are?”

I could wax poetic about why Cyrus is the way he is, why he plays at being charming, demands to be worshipped. But, in the end, it boils down to this: the rot in Cyrus Sloane is that he could not find it in himself to be forgiven. The anger he has in his heart, the revenge he plots– it is all because he cannot find anyone to blame but himself.

In Capetown, he learned to make weapons out of fleeting sweet-faced grins and honeyed lies. Barely into manhood, he won the hearts of his countrymen, had the ear of a kingpin, sat poised for an easy throne. But, though he had everything one could ever dream of, he still gave it all up in order to return to the place of his first and most terrible failure. Look, I have no doubt that he tells himself that he hates his mother. I have no doubt that he even believes that. However, I know that if you cut him open, you would see that he only hates that he does not hate her, not really. He hates that he cannot fault her for anything that she has ever done.

He had always idolized her, had always thought her the paragon of perfection, of stoic and unbending strength. He had never even blamed her for being cold to him– after all, his mother was never anything but pragmatic. She must have had her own reasons to toss him to the wolves. He blames her only for this: for propping up a mirror to his nature, for casting a light on a part of him that he would rather have never acknowledged… for reminding him that he was weak enough to be unwanted, that no matter how hard he tried to be beloved—he would only ever be left behind.

Yes, he is a sharp and cutting thing, hard to look at. He burns so bright, my icarian boy. He fashions himself so easy to be loved and flies so close to the sun, taunting it to shoot him down. He will ruin Verona, if he has his way. He will almost certainly burn himself up to do it. And I suppose I have applied— in part, to try and stop him, to save him from himself. But mostly, I am here because of this: if I do not stand witness to a falling star, if I do not love him as he is–, then I fear no one ever will.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

1— Nothing short of a prodigy in politics + war, this princeling figures some form of leadership to be the most natural application for his talents, and, as it seems, he seems destined for it. Impressed by Cyrus’ verve and natural aptitude for diplomacy, Cosimo has promoted the young man to an emissary and holds Cyrus in high regard. But, while Cyrus seems content in his position and its upwards mobility, he does not intend to take orders forever.

In his biography, there are inklings of a betrayal from Cyrus to the Capulets written throughout his biography. His position to Lawrence as an informant is an obvious clue of lack of loyalty, but it definitely goes far beyond that. Cyrus pays no mind to any man (nor God). He is only concerned with his own interest.

While the possibility of Cyrus becoming a Montague is tantalizing, I think Cyrus hates the Capulets for what they have done to him, but he hates all of Verona the same way. Trading loyalties to the Montagues, to another mob family with a rigid hierarchy isn’t how Cyrus sees himself. He wants to be King, not just a soldier with a different perspective of the Castelvecchio Bridge. Right now, Cyrus does his best to play at peace. But, as the war in Verona streets escalates, the number of neutral sanctuaries decreases, I intend to make Cyrus prove himself loyal to a side, once and for all— whichever one that may be.

———— “Do you not trust me?” Cyrus grins. With his teeth bared and the whites of his eyes glittering in the dark, he looks like the Cheshire cat. You think you have never trusted him less.

2— Earnestly, I think that Cyrus probably wouldn’t betray the Capulets for the Montagues. However, I didn’t say Cyrus wouldn’t betray the Capulets altogether. In fact, for his goal (just like… enacting revenge on all of Verona), I think it’s more likely than not that he will betray them at some point. A thread I’ve been following through the biographies is Cassian’s ties to certain neutral parties (olivia + mona in particular). I could be misreading, but Olivia has her eyes on him. Mona knows his secrets. Like snakes, they cut through the grass, wrap themselves around the prey and they squeeze. Pressure mounting, Cassian might crack sometime soon. And Cyrus— well, he’s nothing if not an opportunist.

In the biography, it is explicitly stated that Cyrus seeks to overtake Cassian. Though Cyrus plays the part of being his dutiful student, he has no real affection for his mentor. Ever since he has been in Verona, he has tried to get closer to his mentor. However, when he spots Olivia’s watchful gaze on the man, I think Cyrus will jump at the chance to act– to finally show that he is not someone to be underestimated. I think this is a perfect opportunity for him to stumble.

I would love to see him team up with Mona and Olivia to amp up the pressure on Cassian. And moreover, I would love to see Cyrus’ loyalties be swayed to them entirely. In my eyes, Mona Chen is someone who thrives in duplicity, whose mother (and father) has not been kind to her and someone who Cyrus knows- will never bow to anyone. It is those things that Cyrus respects. It is those things that will make Cyrus vulnerable to her.

Perhaps Cyrus just passes information about Cassian to Mona and Olivia at first. he offers his assistance from time to time. But maybe things go deeper. Maybe he sees Mona as the coming storm, as someone who will brings the winds of change. Maybe Cyrus can be even convinced to follow her entirely. In any case, this is a perfect opportunity for Cyrus to make a misstep, for him to reveal too much about himself and having that be his undoing. Mona is a woman who deals with secrets and has no problem weaponizing that. It would be awful for him, if she had some dirt of him.

———— “You cannot think that I will let you crush my mentor,” he says, “at least, not without my help.”

3— What is Cyrus without his mother? What is a list of plots without Cyrus and Vivianne on it?. Honestly, I don’t even know where this is going to go. I just know that it’s going to hurt so exquisitely. If you asked Cyrus about his mother, he would laugh. I have your love, he would say, why do I need hers? There is no hard feelings between the two of them, he says. What she did gave him a better life. I mean, just look at him. He was spoiled in Capetown, given everything he ever wanted. And now that he is back in Verona, his good fortune has only followed. Right?

In the years since Cyrus left Capetown, Vivianne has only thrived. She has married Cosimo, become the underboss of the city’s best crime family (fuck u, montagues). She has even found a surrogate daughter to replace him, one that she loves in ways that she never could with him. It is clear that the problem was never with her. To a layman’s eye, Cyrus is nothing but an indigent boy who aims to make Verona his playground. Reveling in every waking moment in the city, he’s a reckless and terrible thing, content to leave caution to the wind so long as he conquers these streets. But the truth is– he has no appetite for ambition without her as an audience, no desire to prove his happiness and success if the news will not travel somehow to her ears.

He hates Vivianne. But what he hates most about her is that—while he would have done anything for her attention, she never seemed to care for him. ———— “You have the world, Cyrus,” she says, calm as ever. He laughs. ”Does it matter? I would have given it all up if you had just been there.”

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | not yet.

IN DEPTH In-Character Para Sample:

//// I WROTE THIS LITERALLY ALL TODAY BC I WANTED TO GET MY APP IN PLS DONT JUDGE TOO HARSHLY

Mass had only ended an hour or so ago. The candles lit for the service still smoldered from having been snuffed out. But Cyrus held no pretensions—sanctity had left this house of worship far before that.

There was nothing holy about this place, he ascertained.  

Perhaps there never had been.

Of course—he would not deny that, as a child, Cyrus had found the Cattedrale di Verona impossibly beautiful. A feat of architecture like no other, it had filled his chest with wonder to see the golden mural that arched across the vaulted ceiling, the reverential way sunlight passed through the stained glass. However, he had long since learned that the spectacle was only a clever ruse. Just like most things in Verona, beauty existed only to hide the rot that so often lurked beneath.

As he walked through the empty pews now, he felt a visceral disgust with himself. How had he not seen it? While he sat in these very seats, knelt on this very floor, sought out something bigger than himself, looked in every corner to find out why the room always felt so empty, he had been blind to the cracks in walls, the chips in the paint. The priest had said once to him that “in god, he would find all answers”—but there was no salvation to be found here.

Even when he had needed it the most, he had never found any salvation here.

Yes, you see he understood now. There was only one reason why he came to the Cathedral now: to drink in his bitterness, to remind himself of the debt he was owed.

The Cathedral was his, just like this city was. Not in that he believed in it or that he loved it more than anyone else, but because he had paid for it ten times over. It had promised him mercy and benevolence and safety, but, when every alley had looked like fear and every corner had held another terrible surprise, it had denied him of all of it. When he was weak, they had cast him aside, and he still remembered that casual cruelty, still felt the sting of rejection and could not bear it.

With no one around to stop him, Cyrus clambered atop an empty pew and went to light a cigarette. While the puff of smoke rose ever upwards, caressed the faces of Abaddon and John, St. Michael and Magog, he laughed. How prescient of them, he thought to himself, to paint a picture of their own reckoning.

He stubs his cigarette out on the pew. It leaves a scorch mark, but he does not seem to care. He offers a rakish smile to no one in particular. He laughs.

“You would forgive me,” he says to the empty air.

(And look- look at that winsome smile, at that careless leer. You could try to fault him for something. He would dare you to. But you would still forgive him anyways.)