spoiled—rotten:

Who says I’m upset, darling? You must have mistaken me for someone who actually cares about whatever trash spews from the mouths of these imbeciles.

If you didn’t care, then why would you react so viciously? Please, Vesper, surely if you think of them so lowly, then they mustn’t be worth the amount of effort you’ve been putting into retaliating against them. I can understand with Henry, though - please, feel free to be as malicious as you’d like with him. After the headache he’s given me this week, he deserves some trouble of his own.

(Source: runningupthat-hill)

There’s no need to get unnecessarily upset over trivial things; please, take a breath.

You’re a terrible wing man - stop hogging all of the beautiful women to yourself.

notasavior:

runningupthat-hill:

I swear, Henry and Artemis are so unreliable sometimes.

What’s wrong, cupcake? 

You and your incessant need to make my life as difficult as possible - that’s what’s wrong.

I’ve had to clean up three situations this week already because of your inability to keep your mouth shut.

runningupthat-hill:

As soon as he had revealed his face behind the mask, the trance he put Elizabeth in began. In her gaze everything around him had completely disappeared, the people, the excitement, the material world. There was only his face left in her view, and she wanted him. In her elegant glide she neared him when it was already too late for his mind, the sandman had already done his job, and it was clear that Alexander’s mind would begin to wander off soon, and luckily, right into the palms of Elizabeth, where she would turn his tortuous nightmares in to peaceful dreams. Her crystalline blue eyes peered into his mind, and watched his dreams. 

Again, the war waged, light versus dark. She wanted to console him, to turn him into her love, so she could do things to him that would make his disastrous world melt away, and only leave him and her. She wanted only the best for them, the king and the queen. The surge of feeling for him pulsed through her body, and forced her to become an active participant in his dreams, rather than a distant watcher. Immediately she caused a different atmosphere, although it was really beyond her how she did so. It seemed her emotion played a rather strong part in the inducement of dreams or nightmares. 

Finally, Elizabeth appeared to him, although not facing him, because her back was towards him, although she knew he was behind her, she knew his presence by heart. The blonde felt different than she normally did, and after a few moments she noticed her age. She was much closer to the ground because her body seemed to have shrunk, as she tried to speak only a high pitched noise came about. She was young again, nearly the age of five. She wanted to turn around to see the boy who she had originally fallen for, but with every movement to turn to see him, she aged along with him. The euphoria of aging like this felt peculiar and seemingly impossible, which, she was sure, was. 

When she turned to him completely, they were in their teen years. Slowly with the elegance that ran in her family she glided towards him, with every step she aged a little bit more, and the most beautiful dress she had ever laid her eyes on grew with her. The background melted away as she looked at him and neared, transforming into the place they truly were outside of his mind - at Carnivale. When she reached him they were both at their current ages, she held out a hand towards him, and offered him an oddly sweet smile, “Dance with me, Alex?”

The deafening sound of gunfire and explosions in the distance became muted against the sound of his faint breathing. Alexander closed his eyes, and exhaled heavily, his breath left his lip in a wisp of fog from the brisk cold of the air. For a brief moment, a sense of serenity swept over the atmosphere, and the anxiety, stress, and fear that had overtaken him melted away into the calm before the storm. He looked down at his hands, noticing the cut on his hand that he’d gotten when he was ten that had been just a scar before. He was ten again - a time before his destiny had been decided for him - a time when he had his whole life ahead of him, with ambitions of travelling the world before he had been chained against his will to the struggling city. The thought made him wince and he bit his lip, trying to force himself to overcome the devastation that he’d done so well to repress.

But then, just before the emotion overwhelmed him - locks of blonde hair shimmering in the dim light caught the corner of his eye. He looked up to see her, the blonde haired girl standing not far from him. She was younger than he was, but as she approached him, she began to age - and the closer she came, the older he, too, became. He starred at her when she turned to him, mesmerized - surprised by her beauty and familiarity.

The scene around the two of them seemed to melt into the background, and he hadn’t even noticed the Carnivale around him until loud music and laughter caught his attention. He looked away for a moment, but when the girl smiled at him, his gaze came back to her, distracted by her undeniable beauty and the calmness that came with her presence. He tilted his head to the side, cautiously curious - there was a moment when he questioned whether this was a dream, or reality.

A smile came upon his lips, though, and finally, for the first time in what felt like ages, he ignored all of his troubled thoughts when she leant a hand out to him to dance.  He grinned at her behind his mask, and bowed graciously at her. “It’d be my pleasure, mademoiselle,” Alexander said gently as he took her hand, and wrapped his other arm around her waist while he entwined his fingers within her own. The loud music dimmed to a soft lull, and the loud noise of the people began to fade into a whisper as they began to dance. 

“You seem familiar; who is the face behind that mask of yours?”

pantera-noah asked: Hey Alex, could you talk some sense into Robin for me? I made the mistake of letting myself be ruled by emotions and told her I was only protecting her for myself, and I'm at a loss for words now that she thinks that I actually am doing it for my own sake. Plus, she hates me and I don't feel like talking to her either.

Oh, ouch. Noah, think before you speak. The fast track ticket to making Robin avoid you like wildfire is telling her what you just told her - I’ve known her long enough to know that for a fact. 

I can’t tell you what’s on her mind, but I know that she’s still hurt over Geoffrey since he died trying to protect her. It’s not her fault; she’ll come around if you keep a safe distance from her and try to understand where she’s coming from. 

I don’t think she hates you - I think she may just be afraid of another situation repeating itself. But I’ll try to speak to her, I promise. 

sweetdreamsaremadeofthese-:

You couldn’t bother me even if you tried to. Tell me what’s stressing you out, and I’ll do my best to make you unstressed. 

I appreciate it, but it’s nothing you need to concern yourself with. It’s nothing that I’m not capable of handling, but your company is considerably comforting, regardless of the fact. Thank you. How are you this evening?

(Source: runningupthat-hill)