#task001:secrets

[misscassandrahale]

Task 001: Secrets

(I have decided to do this task in a form of a letter! Enjoy.)

The letter came only days after Alexander’s death.

Miss Cassandra Eldridge,

     We have not spoken before now, and I do not wish to ever converse again unless it is absolutely necessary. I am Charles Hale, the son of the late Lord Hale and the only other surviving relative of my father.

     Let it be known: now that my father is dead and gone and has passed on to me the title of Lord, you are no longer welcome as a Hale. You are no longer welcome anywhere on the Hale estate and anywhere near my wife and I or our future children. 

     I could not say it while he was alive, but you were never wanted in this family. You are a fortune seeker and nothing like my mother, no where close to what my father deserved in his dying days, and a poor, pathetic excuse for a woman. In other terms, you are despised.

     In the year that you were married, my father spent nearly five hundred pounds on you alone. I expect that to be repaid to me in a years time; if not paid in full by then, I will add interest of five percent every month it continues to go unpaid. 

     In addition, I forbid you from using any courtesy title that may have been granted to you by marrying my father, and any title granted by his death as well. You will do this solely out of respect for my family, namely my late father and my wife, the new Lady Hale. She would be mortified to have any connection to you than she already has. (Out of the goodness of my heart, however, I will allow you to continue to be identified as Miss Hale. This is the only other name you may call yourself besides Miss Eldridge.)

     And, in case you were not informed, my father left no mention of you in his will. If you would like to dispute this statement, you can contact my lawyer and he will put you in your place. However, this means that you have no claim to anything in my father’s estate, and, if you refuse to follow my orders and compensate my family for your unnecessary expenses, I shall take you to court and have you imprisoned for debt.

Have a lovely day, Miss Eldridge.

Sincerely,

Lord Charles Hale

The moment she finished the letter, Cassandra burst into tears. 

She was done for. 

[downstairsdreamersamantha-blog]

Samantha glanced around carefully before slipping into the library, shielding the candle in her hand to hide its glow from anyone who might be there. She had finished Romeo and Juliet, and now she needed to pick up something else. Maybe John Milton. The last guest had spent a solid two hours waxing poetic over his Paradise Lost, which did sound interesting. But his defense of free press also intrigued her. Maybe she would be lucky and they would be printed in the same book, otherwise she would have to wait on that defense. She only ever risked taking a single book at a time. Just in case.

To say that Samantha had secrets would be a touch overdramatic in her opinion. It was more she had plenty she didn’t see the point of sharing, and she had perfectly good reasons to keep it to herself. Added to the fact that if any of those aspects of herself did become common knowledge, it might adversely affect her chances in this household and the rest of her life.

All right, when it was phrased that way, it did sound uncomfortably like a secret. But it wasn’t the same.

It was just that the daughter of a Scottish thatcher and laundress wasn’t supposed to be able to become a maid in an English household, let alone dream any larger than that for herself. The first time she had mentioned to her older sister Amelia that she wanted to learn more books than just the Bible, leave the village, and maybe become a governess, Amelia had scoffed. ‘Don’t be daft Sammy, how are you supposed to do that? We don’t have the money for any of those fancy books, and no one is going to want to learn from someone who talks like us. You’ve seen their looks. Now help finish the chores so we can eat tonight.’

So in a way, that became the first secret. She pretended to her sister that she had given up on that idea and become focused on the same thing the people around her could imagine as a future. Then after everyone else had gone to bed, the tasks she set herself began. Three nights a week, she read from the family Bible until even the most unfamiliar words sounded easy in her mouth and mind. Three nights a week she stayed up going over the family account books to understand at least rudimentary maths and finances. The remaining night was spent scraping together every bit of spare wool and scrap of thread that could theoretically be spared to add whatever style she could to the one outfit she was saving for the day she left.

The hardest work she had to do came from that comment Amelia had made – no one wanted to learn from someone who sounded like her. The Scots had been part of the empire in name for hundreds of years, but even now, the Mckays were looked down on in their village for their clear heritage. She knew people considered Scots nothing but stupid, hot tempered, unreliable, drunk fighters, despite the fact that her family was built of hard working God-fearing folk. They were tolerated, but not respected in town. If Samantha wanted more than that, well, that meant no one else needed to know she was Scottish.

She told herself that she could use any position she earned to start to correct the dark perception of her people, but that was mostly to assuage any guilt she was feeling over what she was trying to do. Which was erase her accent. Countless hours of eavesdropping and practice went into erasing the most outlandish elements of her speech and polishing it into something like what her neighbors sounded like. By the time she arrived at Hudson Hall, she could easily pass as a lowborn English girl. Which she knew was one of the only reasons they had allowed her to gain the increasing responsibility she did instead of keeping her locked in the kitchen where she couldn’t interact with any of the guests.

Even now, after all these years, there are still times Samantha has to be careful not to let her accent betray her. When she becomes exceptionally angry or upset, her control begins to slip and the Scottish burr starts to become more pronounced. Usually, just hearing that is enough to have her calming down and gaining a better control over herself. But there’s a small part of her that can’t help wondering if someday she’ll be forced to end this charade because she slipped in front of the wrong person.

But the beauty of being here was that she finally had access to the books her heart craved. Working as a maid, she had slowly eased herself into being in the position of taking on most of the library duties. Which meant she had the time to look at the books, and she could reasonably justify being there if anyone asked. At first, it had been hard to know where to start because the sheer volume of them had been overwhelming. But time and persistence had taught her why they were organized the way they were, and where best to start.

Before long, she was sneaking books back to her room and hiding them under the mattress in order to read them at her leisure. Carefully, she took notes in a journal she had acquired for that purpose, keeping track of unfamiliar words, thoughts about the material, and any connections she could make to the real world. Occasionally she would be nearby when an intellectual came to visit, and she drank in everything they said and took notes, using that to shape what she paid attention to the next time she read. Someday she was going to be able to converse on their level. Then other people would sneak around, hoping to be able to listen to her.

Actually, she had heard of Lord Hudson allowing some of the staff to use his library, but every person she’d heard about was a man. Not a woman. So for Samantha, it was far better to keep her borrowing and her study a secret, because as long as it was, no one was able to tell her she wasn’t allowed or would think of firing her. It was also possible that what she was doing was completely fine, but she wouldn’t take the chances.

It was the opening of Bedford College that shifted her dream and solidified what she wanted out of life. A university. A women’s university with female teachers and female students, learning and engaging in the arts and sciences. A woman’s place where she wouldn’t have to be in service, and no one would expect her to marry and be satisfied with that. Before, a governess had been the highest she’d been able to dream, but that was just because she hadn’t been exposed to more. Now that she had, her dreams had gotten so much bigger.

All she needed was to find some way to earn the tuition for herself so she could become a student. From there, the world was bound to open up to her in the way she craved, and she could prove herself enough to be accepted as a member of the faculty. Then she wouldn’t ever need to be subject to the whims of the aristocracy again. She would be intelligent, respected, accountable to no one but herself and the other educated women she worked with. Maybe she could even publish her own work and start to expand the bounds of knowledge, truly leaving her mark on the world. No one was going to forget the name of Samantha Mckay. And no one would connect her back to that poor Scottish thatcher’s daughter. She would have finally, truly, remade herself.

The slamming of a distant door brought her back to herself with a start. She had no idea how long she had been standing there, hand on the spine of Paradise Lost as she dreamed of the future she wanted so desperately. Quickly, she snatched the book and hid it under her shawl, shifting the other books around it just enough to hide the space that was left by it. Of course, with so many guests in the house it would be assumed that one of them had it if anyone noticed it was gone. But you could never be too careful. After all, the best kept secrets were the ones no one could even imagine were there.

[mitchellmorrison]

001: initial sit downs. 

Mitch looks over his shoulder, casting the officer a quick look before turning to face him fully. The hum that passes through his nostrils is amused, if not a bit restrained. He knew his time would come - it had for his peers. Though what humour could be found here amounted from the reality that he wasn’t first, second, or third in this interrogation queue. Even as a brother, Greer’s disappearance a fracture within the Morrison family, his name still featured at the bottom half of the list. Placed between the names of those who claimed to know her briefly or not at all. If he thought long and hard about the matter, a guttural laugh would erupt from him somewhere deep within, full and true.           He matches their even gait throughout Ogden’s hallways, his eyes casting over the array of missing posters as they go. A beaming, effervescent Greer is featured on all of them. A Cheshire-cat grin so large he’s unsure of whether she’s laughing directly at him. At the eyes of vultures upon him. Mitch feels discomfort underneath this lens. Taunted. He passes two sophomores huddled behind their lockers, hushing their whispers as he grows closer. He hears them all the same. I bet he did it, one says to the other. I guess we’ll find out soon.           When they reach their place of interest, the officer encourages Mitch to go first. He nods, his hand becoming occupied with the cool metal of the door handle, tension appear to slither out from between his shoulder-blades; the change was so subtle, only a very close observer would’ve noticed how the corded muscles of his neck began to slacken.

“When did you last speak to Greer?”

“No clue,” he answers quickly, honestly. It wasn’t something he kept track of. All conversations existed with equal matter. “Before she went off to the Hamptons, I guess. If that’s where she even went. I didn’t ask, I just assumed.” It was better this way. More tolerable. He’d surely go mad if he was attached to her hip. “I have other commitments and she... Well, it’s not like our schedules have ever aligned.” His broad shoulders shrug at the sentiment, noting the disappointment on their faces. They’d expected more from her sibling, he’d suppose. Or perhaps they expected nothing at all, which was why they’d failed to ask him sooner. “She phoned me whilst I was setting up for a gig. Told me all the loving, sisterly things she would tell me frequently.” Such as: I hope you get a UTI, Dad’s so disappointed he has to spend the summer with you and - Mitch’s all time favourite - fuck off, loser.

“When did you last actually see Greer?”

“We’re not exactly the kind of family to have sit down meals.” Correction: he wasn’t typically invited. He could count on both hands the times in which he’d wandered in, parents and sister at the dining table, porcelain plates almost clean. He‘d grown accustomed to it over the years, quick to realise this way was kinder. He preferred to eat his food without being mocked incessantly. “So, I’d guess... Maybe two days before she left for break?”

“How well did you know Greer?”

“Do you have a sister, Officer uh-” he gestures wildly- “man?” It was obvious he hadn’t been listening to all the fine details. Including that of the officer’s name. It wasn’t exactly relevant. If he didn’t forget it now, it would leave his skull almost as soon as he left what was said within this room. “We know each other as well as most siblings do. It’s not rare to keep secrets.”

“What was your relationship with Greer like?”

From their sunken depths, those words began to stir; honesty rose in his throat, but Mitch swallowed it down like a mouthful of bitter bile without thinking.           “It’s great.” He lies. “I mean, she’s family. We love one another dearly. I know that if I ever needed her, she’d be there. I think she knew the same.”           The low murmur of distant voices picked up for a moment and went quiet again, like a wind falling flat. There was an uncomfortable swell to the silence. A sense of time standing still. Eyes bore back at him, patient, waiting. But for Mitch, nothing comes. He knew if he described the fine details of their relationship that he’d be deemed a suspect. He supposed many of his peers would.           We spoke to your father. Fuck. Of course. Mitch didn’t need to implicate himself because his father would do it for him. His darling daughter missing and all that resulted in his place was his wretched son. He can almost envision the wry smile stretching out across his father’s face. Bastard. We would like to remind you that lying to an officer is a criminal offence. I will reiterate the question - what was your relationship with Greer like?           Mitch could feel the sweat building up on his palms, his pulse skittering unevenly. His medication had settled uncomfortably in his empty stomach. Which, coupled with an officer etching ‘liar’ into their notepads, caused his chest to tighten in response. You see, Mitch’s anxiety had crept up on him over the years - it arrived in increments; restlessness, palpitations, sweating, exhaustion, insomnia. It was a secret he’d desperately kept close to his chest. A secret not a single soul would know if he so allowed it.             He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes hard enough to evoke spots, which flared like distant bulbs in the dark. His breathing slowed overtime. A deep inhale followed by a lengthy exhale. In, out. In, out. Slowly, he readjusted to the brutal fluorescents, to the chattering beyond this small room.            “What did my father tell you?” Silence. “Did he tell you how she wasn’t my biggest fan? How I was her greatest inconvenience?” He’d steadied himself enough to exhale a huff of disbelief. “We couldn’t have been further apart. We can’t be more different. That might be just enough grounds to wish you weren’t related but it’s definitely not enough to make someone disappear.”

“You wouldn’t have wanted Greer to disappear, would you?”

The chair he sat upon harshly screeched across the tiles as he stood, irritation and embarrassment bubbling up within him. He’d recited this very moment in his bathroom mirror from the moment she had vanished. Vanished - as if she were the final act of a magician’s routine. Yet, now that he stood before them, attempting to expel the final threads of anxiety which had only so recently consumed him, he was done. He was so fucking done.         ”You’re not listening,” he snaps. “Greer is my sister. Ask her fucking friends. Better yet, have you considered that she’s out there on some fucking beach laughing at us all?” He pinches the bridge of his nose as he speaks. His back turning to the officer as he pursues towards the locked entryway.          “I’m done. I’ve answered your fucking questions. Let me the fuck out.”

[hcllycruz]

M O O D B O A R D ➳ holly cruz ( interior ) –  - ̗̀  pt. 2/? ̖́-

[dcrbyalbright]

cecily jackson//task001

MUSE NAME: Cecily June Jackson

HOW DOES YOUR MUSE FEEL IN GENERAL ABOUT THE GOSSIP BLOG? WHAT IS THEIR OPINION OF IT? Absolutely hates it. She thinks talking trash about other people is a waste of time. Also kind of afraid of it bc if anyone found out about her secret oh god oh no oh fuck

WHO DO THEY THINK KILLED DAHLIA? Oh she def thinks it was the gossip blog. 

WHAT IS YOUR MUSE’S BIGGEST SECRET (FROM THE APPLICATION)? PLEASE GIVE US AS MUCH DETAIL AS POSSIBLE. Last year on a whim she clicked on an ad to become a cam model and then she started?? Actually doing live shows?? And making money from it?? Her cam name is “Riley Vega”. She does live shows twice a week and has a bunch of male fans who like to send her money and gifts and shit. 

THE GOSSIP BLOGGERS ARE SUSPECTED TO BE SKILLED HACKERS. IS THERE ANYTHING ON YOUR MUSE’S PHONE, COMPUTER OR SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNTS THAT WOULD REVEAL INFORMATION ABOUT THEIR SECRET? WHAT IS THE DIGITAL TRAIL? Oh god there’s so much evidence on her phone and computer. From her cam account, to her OnlyFans, to her extensive nude photo collection on her phone. Also texts and messages with the guys who watch her show lol. Her bank account also has wayyy more money than someone from her background should she’s like a little righ from all this shit. 

DOES ANYONE ELSE KNOW THEIR SECRET? FAMILY MEMBERS, FRIENDS, ENEMIES?  Nope! No one, unless they’ve foudn her cam show by accident

WHAT WOULD YOUR MUSE DO IF THEIR SECRET WAS EXPOSED ON THE GOSSIP BLOG? WHAT WOULD THE CONSEQUENCES BE? Oh god she would die if everyone knew what she did and could see her nudes and everything like she would probably have to stop doing her show

ARE YOU OKAY WITH THEIR SECRET BEING EXPOSED ON THE BLOG? YES!

WHAT ARE SOME OTHER SECRETS/REGRETS THAT THEY MIGHT HAVE? ANYTHING ELSE YOUR MUSE IS HIDING FROM OTHERS? UHHH she uses drugs pretty regularly. Also her abusive ex has been trying to get back in contact.

ANYTHING ELSE YOU THINK WE SHOULD KNOW ABOUT YOUR MUSE TO CREATE DRAMA AND CHAOS ON THE GOSSIP BLOG? I cannot think of anything rn dfgfds.

[wincnas]

darby albright//task001

Yates University Task 1

MUSE NAME: Darby Jane Albright

HOW DOES YOUR MUSE FEEL IN GENERAL ABOUT THE GOSSIP BLOG? WHAT IS THEIR OPINION OF IT? She doesn’t really care about the gossip blog to be honest. She thinks it’s just a bunch of sad people bragging about knowing everyone’s shit and pretending to have killed Dahlia.

WHO DO THEY THINK KILLED DAHLIA? She doesn’t know, but she doesn’t think it was Mark Daniels or the gossip blog!

WHAT IS YOUR MUSE’S BIGGEST SECRET (FROM THE APPLICATION)? PLEASE GIVE US AS MUCH DETAIL AS POSSIBLE. Her freshman year at Yates, she was home in NY for Christmas break. she ditched her family holiday party to go get drugs from her dealer, with her best friend, Cleo, and they ended up doing lines of coke together. Her dealer got a bad line, and he started overdosing. Darby wanted to call the police, but Cleo told her they had to leave or they would get arrested. His body was eventually found, and to this day nobody but Darby’s friend Cleo knows about what really happened to him that night. They grabbed all their stuff and wiped down the surfaces they touched, so it looked like he was alone when it happened. Before she knew it, Darby was back from break at Yates with a new scar and a new secret.

THE GOSSIP BLOGGERS ARE SUSPECTED TO BE SKILLED HACKERS. IS THERE ANYTHING ON YOUR MUSE’S PHONE, COMPUTER OR SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNTS THAT WOULD REVEAL INFORMATION ABOUT THEIR SECRET? WHAT IS THE DIGITAL TRAIL? Her text messages from Cleo after the accident, begging Cleo to let her go to the authorities and tell them that they were there that night. Her texts with her former dealer arranging to come over. Google searches of her dealer’s funeral and where to send flowers. 

DOES ANYONE ELSE KNOW THEIR SECRET? FAMILY MEMBERS, FRIENDS, ENEMIES? Cleo knows, besides that she’s kept it a secret.

WHAT WOULD YOUR MUSE DO IF THEIR SECRET WAS EXPOSED ON THE GOSSIP BLOG? WHAT WOULD THE CONSEQUENCES BE? Oh god she’d probably be brought in for questioning by the police since she fled the scene of a death lol. Also it would be pretty damaging for her reputation, and her father’s. As a Senator, it would probably get pretty extensive media coverage that a politician’s daughter was doing coke with a dealer and he died. 

ARE YOU OKAY WITH THEIR SECRET BEING EXPOSED ON THE BLOG? Yes ruin her life!!!

WHAT ARE SOME OTHER SECRETS/REGRETS THAT THEY MIGHT HAVE? ANYTHING ELSE YOUR MUSE IS HIDING FROM OTHERS? Uhhhh her extensive drugs use, the ten prescriptions she has from four different psychiatrists for stimulants, her stay inr ehab last summer, the fact that her dad cut her out of his will lol. She made a sex tape last year with an ex so that’s floating around there somewhere lol. Also she went to France with Frankie last year and ditched her in Paris bc some guy asked her to go to Prague with him lmao.

ANYTHING ELSE YOU THINK WE SHOULD KNOW ABOUT YOUR MUSE TO CREATE DRAMA AND CHAOS ON THE GOSSIP BLOG? Uhhhh literally drag her for all of her drug use. 

[anitangel]

task001 / anita

MUSE NAME: Anita de Jesus (real name: Ana Mercedes Mendoza)

HOW DOES YOUR MUSE FEEL IN GENERAL ABOUT THE GOSSIP BLOG? WHAT IS THEIR OPINION OF IT? : she thinks it’s hilarious, she doesn’t take it seriously at all and thinks it’s all jokes. however, she does get mad when her name is brought is more than she would like it to be. all in all though, she thinks it’s harmless fun. she lives for the drama.

WHO DO THEY THINK KILLED DAHLIA?:  honestly, she’s not sure that anyone purposefully killed dahlia. the way things have been going on this campus– people getting into fights, drinking at all hours, getting into car crashes, taking every drug known to man– she’s pretty sure that dahlia simply fell victim to one of the above. she definitely think that if someone killed her, though, it was someone from calloway. 

WHAT IS YOUR MUSE’S BIGGEST SECRET (FROM THE APPLICATION)? PLEASE GIVE US AS MUCH DETAIL AS POSSIBLE:  her real name is ana mercedes and she’s not just a rich international student as many assume, she’s the heir to a pretty big colombian cartel/crime organization. her family controls elections in colombia, supplies about 80% of the cocaine used worldwide (yep.. that’s why she doesn’t touch any coke at yates), buys and sells weapons, and murders. murders a lot people. when she saw her older brother die due to cartel activities, she promised herself she would never get involved in that life. she moved to the US with her mom and younger siblings because her father wanted to protect them, and her mother ran cartel operations inside Miami. as soon as she turned 18 she left home and changed her name when applying to yates. her goal in life is to never have to be involved in her family’s organization, which is why unlike many yates kids, she actually tries very hard to get good grades. bitch is on the dean’s list and probably on track to be her class’s valedictorian. but yeah all of this is why she’s super private she doesn’t tell anyone about her life, barely anyone even knows her birthday.

THE GOSSIP BLOGGERS ARE SUSPECTED TO BE SKILLED HACKERS. IS THERE ANYTHING ON YOUR MUSE’S PHONE, COMPUTER OR SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNTS THAT WOULD REVEAL INFORMATION ABOUT THEIR SECRET? WHAT IS THE DIGITAL TRAIL? : definitely. calls from her family, text and DMs from old friends back in colombia. on her laptop, the legal documents from her name change. texts between her and flo where they talk about their childhood. etc. etc. 

DOES ANYONE ELSE KNOW THEIR SECRET? FAMILY MEMBERS, FRIENDS, ENEMIES?:  all of her family, obviously. though she only really speaks to her siblings and has made sure that none of them contact her besides a monthly call.  also florian knows, their families worked together and she has known him since she was 13. that’s it, though. no one else on campus knows a single thing about her life before yates.

WHAT WOULD YOUR MUSE DO IF THEIR SECRET WAS EXPOSED ON THE GOSSIP BLOG? WHAT WOULD THE CONSEQUENCES BE? : she would probably have a mental breakdown lol! and her getting exposed means florian would be exposed and that would hurt her double because… oof. she might considering dropping out of yates and moving abroad. or maybe something less dramatic but. let’s be real she would probably end up hospitalized.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH THEIR SECRET BEING EXPOSED ON THE BLOG? :  duh bring it on

WHAT ARE SOME OTHER SECRETS/REGRETS THAT THEY MIGHT HAVE? ANYTHING ELSE YOUR MUSE IS HIDING FROM OTHERS? : she’s secretly in love with florian but even she doesn’t know that LMAO. uhh also it’s a secret that she even knew florian before yates, and its a secret (i guess) that she also knows his secret. she’s the one who dared celest to date felix. she also got into a drunken car crash with darby and almost killed someone, they fled the scene. i don’t know if it’s a secret that she sucks romeo’s dick for adderall but there’s that. also lowkey addicted to adderall. and might be fake dating elias in the near future will update on that.

ANYTHING ELSE YOU THINK WE SHOULD KNOW ABOUT YOUR MUSE TO CREATE DRAMA AND CHAOS ON THE GOSSIP BLOG? : c’mon she’s anita. girl is at the center of basically all drama at yates. literally say anything about flo being with another person and she will make up an excuse to fight them. threaten darby or celest and she will fight them. omg maybe expose the darby/anita car crash? the fact anita has fucked basically every man on campus? idk there’s SOOO much she’s chaotic. 

[anti-bonkai-pro-haylijah-blog]

(— TASK 001

This is a very straight-forward one that works in two parts. There’s the bio portion, and then there’s the more in-depth relationship study that we will be utilizing here on the main to help promote and fill in some of those emptier slots in your characters’ lives!  

This task in particular only really works if it's done by EVERY CHARACTER, but as lovely as punctuality is, there isn’t much of a deadline seeing as we will be needing every member -- new and old -- to fill out the biography below with every muse, and for some that’s quite a feat!  This is supposed to help us with our muse, not make it harder for us, yeah?  

Keep an eye out for posts from the main because we will be asking for routine updates on these forms ( the connections area mostly ). They do have to go onto your  character’s blog  as well as the task tag -- preferably under the url /task001 so that our admin team can easily locate them, and that will be the one we will need for you to update every so often.

Any questions can be directed directly toward the main or on ANY of my character accounts. Here’s my page on Kai for an example!  And if you notice any blips or errors on the form, don’t be afraid to tap me on the back. Don’t forget to have fun, and feel free to ADD whatever the flipping heck you want to these. *cough* hogwarts house *cough* Love you. - Phoenix

(— FIRST “NICKNAME” LAST or FIRST LAST

age: mental / physical ( m: age from show + 25 years ) face claim: species: orientation: sexual && romantic pronouns: she/her he/him they/them xe/xer etc. alignment: check here role: parent, child or original character fandom: supernatural, teen wolf, originals, or the vampire diaries secret: from the app personality: two && positive -- two && negative from the app occupation: job, hobby or unemployed currently… insert any info about current plots. as much or as little as you desire.

(— THE LAST NAME FAMILY

father name – relation – face claim – played by mun name/ currently open mother – relation – face claim – played by mun name/currently open sibling name or gender – relation – face claim or suggestions – played by mun name/currently open sibling name or gender – relation – face claim or suggestions – played by mun name/currently open

OR

spouse/ex-spouse name – relation – face claim or suggestions – played by mun name/currently open child name or gender – relation – face claim or suggestions – played by mun name/currently open child name or gender – relation – face claim or suggestions – played by mun name/currently open

(— THE CONNECTIONS

name or gender  – relation – face claim or suggestions – played by mun name/currently wanted name or gender – relation – face claim or suggestions – played by mun name/ currently wanted name or gender – relation – face claim or suggestions – played by mun name/currently wanted

(— PLAYED BY MUN NAME

age: pronouns: timezone: rp experience: time frame common tags: what do you post that may be triggering please tag: if applicable, or say none gifs or icons?: either or both, specify other characters: if applicable contact: tag your preferred blog’s url

[wsalvatcre-blog]

TASK001; QUESTIONNAIRE

GENERAL  –

NAME: willow salvatore

NICKNAMES: will

AGE & BIRTHDATE: 18, june 23rd

GENDER: cisfemale

PRONOUNS: she/her

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single

ORIENTATION: bisexual but leans more towards females for sexual realtions

PHYSICAL  –

HEIGHT: 4′11

WEIGHT: 8stone

HAIR COLOR: brown

EYE COLOR: brown

SCARS?: on her left elbow from falling off a tree

TATTOOS?: a semi colon on her writst and a rose on her thigh, following the line of her underwear

PIERCINGS?: ears.

PERSONALITY –

THREE POSITIVE TRAITS: respectful, intelligent, loyal

THREE NEUTRAL TRAITS: dreamy, sarcastic, enigmatic 

THREE NEGATIVE TRAITS: cunning, anxious, clumsy

ETC –

BIGGEST PET PEEVE: hearing people eat

WORST FEAR: surprisingly death is her worst fear

SECRET: trying to magically create a doppleganger line for herself

FAVORITE COLOR: black

GREATEST INSPIRATION: all her favourite writers

SIX WORD STORY: a princess who can be a warrior

IF YOU HAD THREE WISHES, WHAT WOULD THEY BE?: 1. publish a book 2. travel the world 3. fall in love 

MUN –

NAME / ALIAS: cait 

AGE: 19

TIMEZONE: gmt

PRONOUNS: she/her

[almostpristineladycatherine]

It might have been nearly a decade since she had been here last, but as she had already discovered, so much hadn’t changed. That included the schedule the servants kept for maintaining the house when company was here. Which meant she knew the best to go in order to be alone with her thoughts, and that was the one thing she needed most desperately at the moment. She had hoped it would be enough to be around other people, greet the familiar faces, and feel like the adult she supposedly was. But the memories wouldn’t leave her alone.

Ellen was here. In this house. Catherine hadn’t seen her yet, but it only took a few discrete questions to confirm that she was still working here. In fact, she had risen all the way to the status of cook, which was impressive but unsurprising. She had always been dedicated. And she’d loved to cook. Too many nights to count had seen Catherine sneaking down to the kitchens, hoping to get a glass of warm milk or something to help her sleep because she had spent the last two hours tossing and turning, only to find that Ellen was already there, waiting for her with it ready. They would talk until Catherine grew sleepy. Sometimes, she would give the girl a snack to try and settle her, eyes twinkling as if she was committing some indiscretion by feeding this upstairs guest in the dead of night.

Eventually, those frequent late night milk and snack breaks morphed into something more. It was Ellen who knew about the long hours she spent perfecting every aspect of being an accomplished young woman, just as she was the one who knew that sometimes Catherine’s panic over every mistake could keep her shaking until the early hours of the morning. Ellen knew that Catherine’s favorite way to relax was to sew and embroider, and before long, she would sneak some of the servant’s mending to Catherine so she could do it as they spoke. It satisfied her to think she could lighten the load a little for all of the hard working servants, and that she could do something useful with her time for once.

By the time she’d become a teenager, Ellen had already become her best friend in the world, despite all the reasons it should never work. For a woman who spent every other waking moment stressing over how to be ‘the perfect lady’, this exceptionally close relationship was the only sign of the rebellion that was already brewing in her heart.

Then came that fateful night, right before the start of the Season. Catherine had been talking about how baffled she was by some of her agemates and how much time they spent talking about marriage. They would giggle over some man, tease each other over imaginary sweethearts, swoon and fan themselves as if this was something real they were reacting to. A few times, she even saw some of them blushing over the comments, as if this was something that really mattered to them. Of course, Catherine did her best to act the same. After all, maybe it was something you acted out until the feelings genuinely started to develop. She would talk herself into infatuation after infatuation, but all of them faded soon enough, and it wasn’t hard to look back and think that she hadn’t felt much. But she enjoyed these moments of closeness and connection with her female friends. So she tried to make that enough.

It was only to Ellen that she confided the secret growing fear. What if the other women did actually feel what they said they felt, and they weren’t just pretending? If that was the case, why didn’t Catherine?

Was she as broken as she’d always feared?

There had been a curious light in the woman’s eyes at that statement, but Catherine hadn’t understood it. Not exactly. She was too busy trying to be bright and interesting, someone Ellen could see as an adult and an equal instead of the child she had helped to comfort and take care of for so long. It was if this time, Catherine didn’t think she could just be the friend Ellen remembered when she left, but as if she needed to impress her in some way so she would still be friendly and interested by the time Catherine could come back again – after all, they had no way to communicate in between visits. Not without attracting unnecessary attention which would crash back on Ellen even as it left Catherine with the kind of parental scrutiny she had spent her life trying to avoid.

Then there was a moment. A moment when they were looking at each other, and it felt like something shifted inside Catherine. Maybe she moved first, maybe Ellen did, or maybe it was something mutual, but after a moment, their lips met. And it was perfect. It felt like a sun rising inside her to fill her body with a gentle warmth, an unquestionable rightness. It was the answer to a question she hadn’t even known she was asking. Time spilled out slowly as they gently explored each other’s lips. Catherine would have been willing to stay there forever, but the sound of a door slamming in the distance had both of them jerking away from each other. And back to reality.

Soon after, her family left the hall and she hasn’t been back since. But that kiss with Ellen had done more than open her eyes to new feelings about the woman she had grown up around, it had opened her eyes to the other women around her as well. Suddenly it didn’t feel as innocent when she watched another woman’s laugh and couldn’t resist a smile. She couldn’t hide from herself that small warmth when she held another woman’s hand. And no matter how desperately she tried to recapture that feeling with the suitors that paraded themselves in front of her, it just wasn’t there.

As she walked through the castle, there was a part of her that ached incessantly to see Ellen again. To talk with her, and recapture a little of that special bond that had sustained her for so long. To know that on one of her sleepless nights when her thoughts wouldn’t stop circling, she could go downstairs and talk about anything and everything that was on her mind with the one person who never seemed to judge her for her mistakes. The one person who had made her feel like she was enough, even if she wasn’t perfect. The one person who’s kiss she hadn’t been able to stop dreaming about, no matter how much time had passed, and wondering with something approaching an unholy hunger what it would be like to kiss her again.

The other part of her was terrified to see Ellen again. Ellen was the one person who could make her want things other than what she had, and also imagine that they might be possible. She was the kind of person who could hear Catherine talk wistfully about wanting to go out into the garden and spin wild circles in the night air until she was so dizzy she could fall asleep and push her into doing it. She could make Catherine laugh until her sides ached, even as they tried desperately to muffle themselves so no one else would catch them. She would ask hard questions about what Catherine wanted out of life, not for her family, but for herself. As a child, Catherine hadn’t had any answers. She had even fewer now.

Because there was a small treacherous part of herself that wanted to follow in Elizabeth’s footsteps. A part of her that wanted to be able to say to the world ‘Damn your expectations and damn your judgements, I’m going to do what’s right for me.’ A part of her that wanted to look at herself in the mirror, and feel like enough. For once. A part of her that didn’t want to worry about being the perfect lady, and instead wanted to find out what it was like to be happy. Happy not for a brief stolen moment, but for a lifetime.

Of course, it was completely impossible. She was a Bakesley. She was a woman. She had no income of her own, and she would need to rely on her husband to support her into her old age, and potentially support her sister if Elizabeth didn’t marry or inherit the Hudson estate. Her parents expected her to make a satisfactory marriage and prove to the world that they had raised their daughter well, even if she couldn’t be the son they had actually wanted. All of which meant that any sort of rebellion in general, and pining over the soft lips of a woman in particular, were completely out of the question.

All of her wishes needed to stay safely locked in her heart. Now more than ever.