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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
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euphoria
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Tag me @jeremy
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 30, 2021 2:34:56 GMT
[ ◈ ] my muse makes a drunk confession to your muse. ali |
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
Personal Text
Nobility
Rank
Author | Poet
Problematic Heir
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
Tag me @jeremy
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 30, 2021 2:31:39 GMT
( breathe ) : one muse guides the other through a breathing technique.
@francescab |
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
Personal Text
Nobility
Rank
Author | Poet
Problematic Heir
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
Tag me @jeremy
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 30, 2021 2:17:25 GMT
[ ☻ ] my muse wakes up in your muse’s closet the night after a party. (if it's easier to have him wake up in a Granville closet, that works too! Whichever is easier for you to set up  ) @gendlc |
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
Personal Text
Nobility
Rank
Author | Poet
Problematic Heir
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
Tag me @jeremy
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 30, 2021 2:09:34 GMT
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
Personal Text
Nobility
Rank
Author | Poet
Problematic Heir
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
Tag me @jeremy
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 15, 2021 4:37:59 GMT
---While Jeremy was not overly fond of dinners such as this, things had become easier since Elizabeth. Since meeting her, since getting to know her, since becoming engaged to her. She understood him where others did not. And accepted him with his high levels of stress and what it could result in. She had even witnessed one of his episodes and did not get scared or think him weak for it. She helped him to feel, calmer. So dinners such as these, became bearable. The pressures and burdens while still upon his shoulders, significantly eased. Even his father and mother seemed rather pleased with all this, considering he was wedding the daughter of a Marquess.
---Jeremy had not thought it possible to find someone like her. And he was ever so grateful for that day in the woods when she had an accident with her horse. Not that he wished her ill, but that he believed it truly was fate. He felt her hand and felt her presence, even if they were not talking to each other but remaining polite in company . . . and that was all he needed to get them through this dinner. When it was over, they were making their way through the hall to the next tedious part of the night, when he suddenly felt Elizabeth pulled him to another room. It was unexpected but . . . also thrilling, if he was being quite honest. He imagined she wanted a private word. Perhaps to speak of that vile Martin who Jeremy had noticed was practically leering at Elizabeth. But instead of conversation . . . she seemed to have something else entirely in mind.
---She threw her arms around him, moments before telling him to kiss her as he readily complied with her request. He instinctively put his arms on either side of her waist, closing his eyes as he soaked in the embrace. Letting it linger, letting the sensation of her every touch course through his body and soul . . . and slowly eased out of it. Knowing, that he could not let it last for too long. Their wedding seemed so far away, especially in moments such as these where temptation was the cruelest enemy. He slowly opened his eyes to look at her, a smile touching his lips. "I have never come across a request that was easier to fulfil," he told her, belatedly responding to her request of kissing him . . . or demand.
---He quite liked that in fact. Seeing Elizabeth take charge like this. But, now that he was looking at her, though she still looked breathtakingly beautiful . . . there was something different. Something in her eyes, and complexion. He raised his hand to her cheek, gently stroking it. "Are you well?" He asked with a continued smile but soft concern there. Not because she had asked him to kiss her, but because of how she stood before him now. Hopefully, his question did not offend . . . though realizing after he said it, how it might. "Not that I mind this little detour," he added on lightly.
NOTES:
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
Personal Text
Nobility
Rank
Author | Poet
Problematic Heir
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
Tag me @jeremy
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 15, 2021 1:45:30 GMT
---These sorts of parties were either a hit or miss for Jeremy. There were times where he was perfectly fine with the crowd and was able to handle it. Other times . . . it triggered his anxiety. He could feel the latter coming on but had promised his friend he would stay. So instead of leaving, he decided to just . . . help his mood along a little. Though he needed something stronger. Much stronger. He miraculously found an empty room which he immediately seized. Before going in his friend had warned him to keep the door open; the lock was stuck on it. Jeremy wasn't sure if he would remember the instruction . . . but the thought of being locked in a room away from everyone else wasn't terribly unappealing. It was just too . . . peopley out there!
---Slouched on the couch, he let the drugs do their work, hearing someone break the peaceful silence. He looked towards the girl and . . . the closed door. Was she lost? Or she had lost her friends? Or they lost her. He looked around the room when she stated it wasn't the bathroom. "And don't make it one," he joked . . . but, not without truth. He didn't want to see her pop a squat in here . . . or throw up. The fact that they were stuck in this room now would make the smell unbearable. "You know, if I wasn't so fucking high right now, I might be freaking out that we're now locked in this room together." He had no idea who this girl was -- though she was very clearly drunk -- but something told him that they were going to get to know each other; stripped of any choice considering the circumstances. "If you couldn't find your friends before . . . you sure won't find them now."
NOTES:: omgg why is he such an idiot?! my apologies!!
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
Personal Text
Nobility
Rank
Author | Poet
Problematic Heir
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
Tag me @jeremy
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 11, 2021 19:50:40 GMT
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
Personal Text
Nobility
Rank
Author | Poet
Problematic Heir
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
Tag me @jeremy
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 11, 2021 19:49:06 GMT
a moment of weakness
@lucygranville |
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
Personal Text
Nobility
Rank
Author | Poet
Problematic Heir
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
Tag me @jeremy
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 11, 2021 19:47:57 GMT
[ UNBUTTON ] : due to heat or stress or other reasons, your my muse unbuttons the top of their shirt to reveal their neckline.
@julieta |
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
Personal Text
Nobility
Rank
Author | Poet
Problematic Heir
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
Tag me @jeremy
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 11, 2021 19:45:42 GMT
( kiss ) : one muse gently kisses the other while they're crying.
@edwinasharma1 |
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
Personal Text
Nobility
Rank
Author | Poet
Problematic Heir
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
Tag me @jeremy
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 11, 2021 19:44:29 GMT
( nurse ) : one muse takes care of the other while they're sick.
@polinshipper82 |
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
Personal Text
Nobility
Rank
Author | Poet
Problematic Heir
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
Tag me @jeremy
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 11, 2021 19:42:29 GMT
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
Personal Text
Nobility
Rank
Author | Poet
Problematic Heir
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
Tag me @jeremy
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 11, 2021 19:41:01 GMT
do you ever knock
@misspenf |
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
Personal Text
Nobility
Rank
Author | Poet
Problematic Heir
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
Tag me @jeremy
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 11, 2021 19:32:14 GMT
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
Personal Text
Nobility
Rank
Author | Poet
Problematic Heir
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
Tag me @jeremy
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 11, 2021 2:54:52 GMT
---It was not unnatural for Jeremy's eyes to seek out Elizabeth in a crowded room. The two had of course attended many events together but ever since they had met in the woods that day, it was not just about being in the same room together. They were no longer strangers. In fact, Jeremy found great comfort in her company. She understood him in a way that perhaps no one else did. When they danced, she allowed them to just . . . dance. There was no expectation, no pressure, and he found himself feeling rather safe in her company. Damned etiquette for not allowing him more than a couple of dances with a woman. If it were up to him and he was forced in such environments, he would gladly dance the entire night with her.
---But now, they were on opposite sides of the room from one another, mingling within their own group though he was hardly paying attention to what was being said. Far too many people between them in this grand hall. Never the less, his eyes still managed to find her, trying not to be too obvious and yet he was fixated. Taking a sip of his drink, she did not seem to notice him watching her. Her every movement so elegant and graceful. Whether it was a smile, feigned laughter, soft steps . . . speaking of which, she began to move towards the backyard. Perhaps for fresh air, as some tended to seek out in such crowed areas. He was no exception to this need. It was not her leaving that caused him pause, but rather, the fact that one of the gentlemen in attendance also started to move towards the same direction.
---Now, it could be nothing . . . but there was always the risk, that it could be something. Was she leaving the room to get away from him? Were the two of them . . . oh that thought cause an unsettling feeling within Jeremy. Though, he knew he had no right to feel uncomfortable in the thought of Elizabeth with another man, he could not help it. Curiosity got the better of him. No. Perhaps it was not curiosity. It was this strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. Elizabeth was a lady, and in all he knew about her -- and he liked to think he knew her quite well from their conversations -- surely she would not compromise herself with a gentleman, late at night, in the gardens.
---If Jeremy was wrong and he walked in on . . . something desired by both parties . . . then it would only lead to embarrassment. But if he was right, then it could be a way to help her from a distressing situation. He hoped he was wrong, to spare Elizabeth any discomfort of unwanted attention. Setting his glass down on the table, he began to make his way through the crowd. If anyone stopped to greet him, he did not pay attention. His mind fixated on discovering the goings on outside between two people. And after all . . . Jeremy was never quite good at multitasking.
---He did not see them immediately upon exiting. Were they further in the garden? That was . . . concerning indeed. He went in a bit further, hearing distant voices that did not sound too good. Hastening his steps he finally set eyes upon the scene and it was much to his horror. The man had Elizabeth pressed against a tree and . . . Jeremy did not even wish to set eyes upon this for a second longer. The vivid image scarring to his brain, and boiling his blood. It was clear to anyone that the man's attentions were unwanted, one hand covering her mouth, and that was all the reason Jeremy needed. He did not think of anything else, nor had time to analyze the situation of what was most appropriate in this moment. He rushed towards them, pulling the man off of Elizabeth and aggressively pushing him to the side.
---The shock of the moment briefly froze the other male and when Jeremy was about to turn to Elizabeth to see if she was ok, the man lunged at them. Now this was not exactly Jeremy's strong suit. His family would never deem him a protector of any sort. But then . . . perhaps he had never been in a situation where such an instinct was so intensely required. Jeremy instinctively shoved the man back as he angrily came towards him, the force in which he did so causing the man to stumble and fall, a cracking noise filling the air that would perhaps haunt Jeremy for some time to come.
---And then, everything went still. Eerily so. Jeremy looked at the fallen attacker. The other man's body still. Motionless. Lifeless. Jeremy felt numb. And it seemed as if an eternity passed as he slowly began to step towards him, looking down at the man and the sight was perhaps as traumatic as the sound. His head against a rock, blood spilling and staining it. Jeremy did not want to believe it. He should check the man's breathing, call for help. But yet, he knew. He did not wish to accept it nor come to terms with it . . . but he knew. The man was dead.
---Jeremy slowly looked at Elizabeth, unsure what expression he held or what his eyes conveyed. He himself did not know what he was currently experiencing and the words that came out were ones of instinct and genuine concern despite all that he was trying to process. "A-Are you . . . " Okay? Yet they remained unfinished. Part of him hoped she knew what he was trying to say and the other part of him supposed it was a foolish question. He had just killed a man. If what had just previously occurred had not traumatized the poor woman, Jeremy was fairly certain this would aid in it. For he himself knew, that this was not a memory that would ever fade from his mind.
45. My muse commits murder to save yours. NOTES: Blame the random number generator for this one!
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