Kvvy's Journal ~Victorian Manor Edition~

[Kveria]

KVERIA’S JOURNAL
~ Victorian Manor Edition ~

WARNING: Be wary of OCness.​

The four of them sat silently in the common room of Kveria’s Journal , which was more like a Gothic-style library with elaborate bookcases made of expensive mahogany and filled with every title imaginable, each rebound to look like a hundred-year-old antique… even down to the dust that no one had wiped off in the three days since they’d moved in. There was a huge fireplace sporting a grey marble mantelpiece and a cast iron grate at one end of the room; placed above it was a gaudy portrait of their creator, standing on an angle, resting his hands on an elaborately jeweled cane and a distant look in his eyes as he gazed off past whoever may be viewing, toward the sunset. In an attempt to look regal in his painting, Kveria had failed epically by wearing his favourite Monster sweater, his dark hair pulled half up half down, and his black square-framed reading glasses were perched half-way down his nose—if anyone were to ask, it was because he wasn’t allowed to move for so long that by the time the artist got around to painting them on they’d already slipped down and for this he lamented because he was sure it made him look pretentious.

The room was filled with the scent of burning oak logs, the only sound resonating between the walls was the faint cracking it emitted and the scuffling about as Julius—adorned embarrassingly in a very short maid’s dress with a frilly hem and headdress—as he put away all the books Sebastien had discarded all over the small mahogany coffee table that was nestled in between two faded red velour sofas; part of a matching set with the two tall armchairs that sat facing the fire, backs to the rest of the room. Though he made periodical groans and huffs of either embarrassment or exasperation every time he reached up to put a book away on a higher shelf and the skirt of his uniform rode up in the back to expose his underwear, not one of the other three paid him any mind.

Sebastien sat on one of the couches, a fist holding up his head as he leaned toward one of the armrests. There was a book open on his lap and his eyes traced the words with little to no interest as he absorbed the text with indifference. On the far side of this same seat, Colt sat with his nose in a newspaper, blatantly ignoring the others without much regard to whether or not they cared; very Colt-like. Neon was stretched out along the opposite couch, a pair of black and hot pink SYNC headphones nestled in over his ears, his eyes closed, and most likely mesmerised by the dancing visualisations that denoted the pitch, frequency, and speed of the song in brilliant colour, one line for each layer of music married together to create such perfect harmony.

Finally Julius cleared his throat and spoke up. “Guys, is this really necessary?” Though no one looked up at the man who was comparatively tall for his diminutive personality, he fisted the hem of his dress and pulled it down with a light flush dusting his cheeks. “Seriously, I could clean without the maid dress; can I please take it off?”

He’d done it. He’d broken the collective silence that the other three had been immersed quite contently within. Colt’s fists tightened on his newspaper and he sunk a little deeper behind the pages, retreating out only to snatch up a soup mug with yellow and green polka dots that was filled to the brim with bitter black coffee before he ducked back in to avoid everyone else. Neon remained in his own little world, shifting to prop his head up by folding an arm beneath it. It was Sebastien who finally let out a pretty huff in response, turning his crystal blue eyes up at the Reaper for less than a half second before he went back to skimming the lines in the novel noncommittally, “Yes, it is absolutely necessary that you wear it.”

“What! But… but why!?” Stunned, Julius’ voice exited his throat in a little bit of a whine, unsure of how to go about negotiations with Sebastien, who had all but forced the humiliating duds on him in the first place. “This is degrading and humiliating! I’m a man and I have my pride, dammit!”

Sebastien huffed out a laugh in response, refusing to look back up from the book. His tone was clearly haughty and caused something to roil in Julius’ stomach. His hands, adorned in pretty white lace half gloves, bunched into fists and he drew a deep breath to tell Sebastien off whole-heartedly with a step toward the couch, when a rumbling groan erupted from a floorboard under his foot. It rattled the room, even pulling Neon out from underneath one headphone with raised eyebrows.

That silence was back, and the four stared at each other with almost comical incredulity until Neon’s lips curled into an amused and almost foxlike grin, simply stating the one thing that made the room erupt once more. “It was Colt.”

Colt, who had tried to stay as far out of this as possible while gathering facts on the world instead of filling his head with nonsensical fiction or extremely sexualized pop music, finally snapped. There was no amount of coffee in the world that could fix this, and he showed that by leaning forward to slam down both his mug and his paper with such force that the imaginary tremor rumbled across the floor and right up Julius’ spine, causing him to go rigid right away. Somehow he just knew that he was going to be the subject of this outburst, as Neon had already slapped the ear pad back in its rightful location and had closed his eyes to shut everything out once more.

But it would seem that luck was in poor Julius’ favour that day, as a pair of large wooden doors placed directly behind the sofa where Neon was lounging burst open and stopped Colt in his tracks from doing whatever horrible thing was running through his tired and exasperated mind at that moment.

“Good evening, boys~” Kveria chirped as he trotted merrily into the room and threw himself over the back of Neon’s couch, effectively rolling onto his stomach and forcing himself under Neon’s free arm. Neon was none too pleased about this—though he was more shocked than anything; wearing noise cancelling headphones kept him from seeing the sound waves that would have been a dead giveaway to his creator’s approach. “So guess what?”

“You just took a cyanide pill and came here so we could watch the show?” Sebastien offered dryly. He flipped a page, frowned, then did a double take when he felt a pair of dark brown eyes narrowed venomously on him. “Is something the matter? You look absolutely dreadful.”

“It’s nothing,” Kveria spat and sat up, crossing his arms and legs which effectively pinned Neon in place for the time being. “I wanted you all to know that there’s a new member moving in shortly. I want you to treat him with respect. He’s a Vampire Hunter named Alistair Beckett, and he’s like an angrier version of Colt, but much lovelier. So you all behave, because trust me, I know where you were written and I wield the ultimate tool in the writer’s arsenal.” He poked the air harshly with one finger, matter-of-factly. “Control alt A, backspace.”

The ensuing silence was neither nervous nor fearful. In fact, Julius had long ago gone back to cleaning, Neon looked as if he’d fallen asleep, Sebastien had risen to find himself another book, and Colt —the only one to respond—was radiating waves of irritation.

“I’m pretty sure no one cares.”

 

[Kveria]

I Spent My Evening Watching Barbie Movies With My Sister And This Happened​

There was a jubilant sound coming from the TV room in Kveria’s Journal, and it distracted Neon as he showed both Rin and Alistair around the manor. They’d covered just over half and were heading down a long hallway with a tiled floor when they heard music—Neon saw it playing along the faded floral wallpaper before the other two had a hint of it—rich with strings, pipes and percussion, which could only be one thing. Neon kept walking as they passed a door that was slightly ajar, hoping to avoid the whole situation; he’d been there once. Never again.

“Excuse me, what’s in here?” Rin asked with a light Japanese accent. Though his hair was a brilliant golden blonde and his eyes were clear emerald green, he had been born and raised in Saitama, then moved to Shibuya to start a Gothic Lolita style café. At some point he’d ended up leaving his life there and had showed up in Kveria’s Journal quite unexpectedly just after the brooding Vampire Hunter.

Neon hesitated, barely turning to answer the question. “That’s just the TV room. Better leave it alone for now, it sounds like out creator’s watching…. Oh no.”

It was too late. Rin had thrown the door open and gone sashaying inside to investigate, only to end up being sucked into the black portal of Barbie as The Island Princess. He was never heard from again.

…..

Just kidding. He ended up sitting on the floor in front of the television with Kveria, clutching a throw pillow while Kveria’s youngest sister braided his fabulous golden locks. Neon and Alistair simply had too much manly pride to make an attempt at fishing him out.

 

[Kveria]

Oh Glob, I'm Dying of Writer's Block​

It was breakfast time in Kveria's Journal; the morning was frigid and grey, but the fabulous scent of pancakes and bacon filled the manor and warmed it with the promise of food. In turn, each of the characters who resided there were roused by the smell and dragged themselves out of bed for breakfast—including Rin, who was notoriously anti-bacon and an anomaly to the rest of them. In a loose group, the men made their way down the grand marble staircase in the front hall, then made an immediate left into the dining room. It was large, with a long table that would easily seat fifty or more, decorated with a white silk runner and vases containing two calla lilies each for every ten seats. The rest of the room had a very classic feel to it, decorated with old paintings in gaudy frames and small wooden cabinets. On one wall, there was a pair of large china cabinets with glass doors on the front, showcasing only the finest china that the manor had to offer to very special guests. At the end of the room, sitting at the head of the table, was the Mind Father of the whole shebang—the dark-haired young man who currently laid with his face flat down on the table, his arms crossed over top of his head.

The first to attempt anything was the ever brave Colt, who walked up with his eyebrows pushed down, coffee in hand and unlit cigarette hanging from between his lips. The scowl on his face carried through to his voice when he jabbed his creator in the shoulder with two fingers, rather harshly. "Ey. Get your head off the table; it's rude." Kveria responded in little more than a whine and a grunt, turning his head sideways to avoid direct contact with the very unsettlingly angry man. It was so obvious that Colt didn't want to be awake right then, and that he desperately needed to light up though he knew he wasn't allowed in the house. Not that he was worried about consequences; he just held a general respect for the rules. "Kveria, get the Hell up. I'm not going to say it again," Colt continued, a little more harshly.

Neon stepped up next to Colt and peered around him with an apathetic expression. His hair was still mussed from sleeping, sticking up in every direction on the left side of his head while the right side was relatively flatter. It was obvious that he hadn't tried to do anything about it before coming down, but it wasn't like he cared either. If the others wanted to gawk, Neon was going to let them and that's all there was to it. "Hey, maybe you should let someone with a gentler touch take care of this?" When his pastel-hued eyes traveled up to meet Colt's and examined the solely unimpressed look, he shrugged and took his seat, deciding to dig into the feast of a breakfast that was already set out on the table. He didn't want to get involved anyway, so he wasn't that concerned.

Colt gave up and sat down with the others which relaxed the tense atmosphere significantly; Kveria lifted his head and rested it on his arms with a long, low whine that was reminiscent of an injured dog. This turned most of the heads at the table, except for Colt who had given up and Neon who had already said his piece. They saw Kveria with his glasses off which was uncharacteristic of him to begin with, dark circles showing purple underneath his dark brown eyes and a languid expression settling itself in ever corner of his features. For the normally energetic and bouncy writer, this was a complete one-eighty from what his characters were used to. There was an overhanging silence while they all thought of something to say.

"Oh my, darling... you look absolutely awful," Rin spoke up from his seat, when no one else spoke up in what he assumed was due time. "You look positively dreadful, like you haven't slept in days. That's really not good for your skin, you know."

"Thanks for your concern, but I'm fine." The writer did his damnedest to sit up straight, rubbing his eyes. "It's true I haven't gotten more than a few hours sleep every night for the last month or so, though. I mean, between my fanfic, role-playing, training my horse, babysitting, job searching, and spending almost all my time with Tom now.... It's been hard to fit everything in, and I'm stressed out... and now I've got writer's block."

There was an automatic collective silence where even Colt and Neon looked up to assess their creator's face, looking for any shred of jesting there. There was none. The quiet turned quickly solemn between the veterans of the group while Rave and Sheena, the newest victims, looked back and forth from Kveria to their seniors. There was no nice way for their seniors to tell them the potential dangers of writer's block, how devastating and life-threatening it could be for the creations. The whole thing had ruined the entire meal; to Julius it tasted like cardboard in his mouth and he was the first to excuse himself, followed soon after by the others. Feeling awkward and left out, Rave and Sheena eventually left as well, leaving Kveria to sulk with his head down on the table.