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Kveria
Planetoid
- Joined
- Jan 11, 2015
- Location
- Behind You
KVERIA’S JOURNAL
~ Victorian Manor Edition ~
WARNING: Be wary of OCness.
~ 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.”