hcrxtio

[hcrxtio]

which of your children did you trust the most and which of them the least?

I trusted Horatio the most and Florence the least.

#{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 reference } #{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 referenced 𝖇𝖞 vidal } #( this... makes him so happy )

[hcrxtio]

Dollhouse as The Umbrella Academy 

Part 1: The Academy 

Horatio - Luther 

Irma - Diego 

Graciela - Allison 

December - Klaus 

Roman - Five 

Cassia - Ben 

Belva - Vanya 

Keep reading

#( it's been 84 years. no one's gonna see this. but let it be known this is amazing ) #{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 meme }

[hcrxtio]

𝔅𝔢𝔩𝔳𝔞 𝔄𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔞𝔰

Horatio and Belva had always played the parts that their father expected of them. They were not wild and unpredictable like Emilio, didn’t break the rules as easily as December did. They knew their place in the house, which was why Belva had always felt so comfortable sitting beside him on the landing outside of their bedrooms. The silence then had been comfortable, easy even, as Horatio kept track of their siblings’ movements and made sure that everyone was in the right place. Belva kept him company, sitting in the stiff chair beside him, offering the occasional bits of conversation until his clock would tick and signal that it was time for her too to get to bed. It had been comfortable, a way to remain on the shelf and in her father’s favor without having to give up the prospect of company altogether.

She finds herself more and more grateful for that quiet company, and at the relief in Horatio’s voice, she knows that she made the right decision. A soft smile tugs at her lips as she takes his offered arm, a gesture so familiar. It reminds her of their mother, of the woman she loves so much and spent so much time trying to emulate. If there was anyone that she missed at the house, it was her, and the way she could make people feel loved and cared with the simplest of gestures. Belva hums at Horatio’s words as she follows him through the house, and although they’d perhaps been offered to Horatio as a form of comfort, it’s not quite what she takes from them. His next question catches her completely off guard, and she glances up at him in confusion. It’s a question she’s given some thought, especially after her conversations with Emilio and Harley, but she never would have expected for Horatio to be the one to ask it so plainly. Their father was a hero in his eyes, wasn’t he? 

Belva struggles to find a way to explain her thoughts, like is so often the case, but she eventually settles on repeating his words. “It’s like you said. He’ll never really be gone. I mean, I still hear him in my head sometimes, you know? Telling me what to do,” she begins, her grip on his arm tightening just the slightest amount, as if she’s using it to steady herself. “I don’t like that word. Broken. Didn’t like it the day I broke my arm, don’t really like it now, but…I think there’s a lot about me that’s because of him. And sometimes I don’t like that much either.” It’s almost frightening to hear it outside of her head, to admit it, but Horatio deserved her honesty. If even he was asking such a question, then surely he had his own doubts? This causes her to look up at him again, searching for something she’s not sure if she’ll find in his expression. “Do you ever feel that way, Horatio?” 

               𝕳er bafflement was tangible; even for him and even despite the eyes which refused to meet hers as she looked up to him; staring with all his focused attention into the direction they walked in instead. it was a choice, not naive but willing to be, if she saw whichever reason – perhaps to shield herself or even him – of sharing her complete truth regarding his question. he didn’t know which respond he was hoping for either; whether to beg for words which could heal the fissures in the podium he’d raised from the ground for his father to sit on top on or for the truth – no matter how harsh it may be – a smart mind should never cease to search for. after all, it was the only way of learning something new. 

              𝕰yes flicker towards her, briefly only in the hope of understanding her silence and the slight tightening of her slim fingers around his arms. perhaps the question was too much to ask or the expectation of someone to reveal their judgement to him —– their father’s front line soldier or the devoted pawn – same thing – who’d give anything to defend him. even now his first instinct is to defend if just vidal’s voice; inside her head with the one inside his. it can’t be bad; to have his choice to compare your own to, to have the advice where you might not want it but need it, to get guidance before you could get lost —– but horatio keeps the thought to himself.    “ and is there nothing he’s left you like about yourself? “     he asks instead, and subconsciously, or perhaps not, his steps are slowing down with the fairness of her not only getting to ask but to be answered the question, until he stops, conveniently or coincidentally, far enough from their father’s grave that its presence doesn’t feel there yet, that words are still being said only between horatio and his sister. his chest is rising as he hopes to breathe bravery into his lungs.    “ i have felt– “     his thoughts linger to find a fitting word. it wasn’t broken. he had not felt broken back then.     “ –abnormal..? before. i believe i would say. “    not just broken because broken things suggested the possibility of them receiving and he had considered himself far beyond repair.     “ i prefer not to revisit the memories much. it’s not the point either. ”     he says it like a choice; with the nuances of the gate to his childhood being pressed shut, again, as standing just a brief moment ajar seems to be going too far.     “ the point is that... that he was the first to make me understand i wasn’t. “ 

#{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 interaction } #{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 interaction 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 belva }

[hcrxtio]

                            𝕬nd though fashion was not something he found interest in             – in a world where everything needed to be mixed and matched until it was right –                                                                            he had found a sense of style.

#dhtask #{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 prompt } #{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 prompt 𝖓𝖚𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 six } #( minimalist graphic aye )

[hcrxtio]

𝔅𝔢𝔩𝔳𝔞 𝔄𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔞𝔰

The trepidation that she had felt in anticipation of Horatio’s request is proven warranted. His request, as simple as it may seem, is one that hits her harder than she anticipates. It brings her back to the day that they had laid their father in the ground, a day filled with strangers whispering back and forth to each other, trying to figure out just who had done it. Who had murdered the man they had just buried. That day had passed in a blur, and although she had done her best to play the role of the perfect grieving daughter, no tears had come. She had kept waiting for the pain to hit, for the grief to grab hold and not let go, but it had never came. It still hadn’t come. 

If anything, everything that has happened since that day has only proven that Vidal doesn’t deserve her grief. Lips pursed at his words, Belva takes her time before filling the silence, her gaze shifting from behind Horatio’s shoulder to his face. His own gaze is settled on the watch that he always wears, the watch he’d checked when they were children before making sure that everyone was exactly where they were supposed to be. A part of her wants to tell him that Vidal didn’t deserve his grief either, but she’s been told too many times in her life how to feel, enough so that she won’t do the same now. Not to him. “I’ll come with you,” she finally replies, a minuscule nod accompanying her words. Their father may not have deserved their grief or such devotion, but if Horatio was asking her for this, then she wouldn’t say no. She cares about him enough to place his needs before any bitterness that remains for their father, and if this would help him, then so be it. “It’ll be strange this year. Celebrating in town without him there.” And it would be strange, although Belva can’t help but to wonder if it would also feel as if a weight had been lifted from many of their shoulders. 

                 𝕿he quiet which followed his question laid more heavy on the world around him than the one he had enjoyed only moments prior. it felt like a cloak; the added weight of too heavy a fabric having been used, wrapping itself with simple ease around strong shoulders which had had to carry much bigger burdens in life than awaiting the choice between a yes or no. it was easy. the possibilities limited and the probability of her choosing able to be calculated without having to spend a single thought on complicated mathematics. it should be easy. however, as the seconds reached across the boundaries of their definition; beginning to feel much longer than the reality of the hand on his watch showed, horatio could begin to feel the true weight of her silence – not a ‘ no ‘ quite yet but presumably the realisation that she didn’t want to – forcing his posture to slouch ever so slightly as, instead, the plausibility of her saying no seemed to grow. 

                𝕳is head lifted; enough to accept her answer without a negative reaction if she doesn’t want to. he wouldn’t blame her. he has learned, at least, that from the mysteries which’d unfolded — that those who’d already had trouble trusting their father, would find all the less reason now to want to believe in him. he could accept that, but he t seems he doesn’t need to.      “ thank you, “      he breathes the words quietly, yet the relief is loud and audible in his voice. he doesn’t know who else he would take – not could take as he allows himself the assumption that graciela would come with him as well, remy, florence and perhaps even cassia – but there are different reasons why he had asked neither one of them. he offers his arm to her; in the same gentleman fashion he’s always done with their mother, or perhaps in the way a child would which had learned not to hold onto anyone but still sometimes needed someone to hold onto him. he almost smiles as she speaks again because it is comical in all its tragedy that it’d apparently taken until now, for some of them, to get the feeling of a life without vidal being strange.     “ i have been told he’ll never be forever gone, “      a reassuring sentence, no doubt, to those who’d lost someone — except it had been said in the context of damage which had been done; the bold statement of a therapist who’d only ever met the other supposedly traumatised athanas children in the stories of them horatio told.    “ do you ever... feel broken; because of him? “ 

#{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 interaction } #{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 interaction 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 belva } #( spice spice baby )

[hcrxtio]

𝔅𝔢𝔩𝔳𝔞 𝔄𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔞𝔰

So much had happened since they’d all returned to the house upon the hill, so much even since Emilio had been released and December proven miraculously alive. An eeriness still lingers late at night, questions of whatever happened in that secret room downstairs and why there were strange children running through their house (there, but not really), and yet Belva attempts to push those thoughts away. Reporting July missing had been a frightening event, law enforcement of any kind setting the blonde on edge, but she had done all that she could. She’d given the information that she had (insignificant though it may have been) to people who would hopefully be able to solve the latest mystery, and now she was trying to settle back into something resembling somewhat normal. With Summer Fest and the Miss Vertmoor competition, that was made a bit easier. Checking her appearance one last time in the expensive vanity mirror in her bedroom, Belva adjusts her curls and applies a quick coat of pale pink lip gloss before exiting the room, designer handbag over her shoulder. 

The figure in the hallway is familiar, someone she hasn’t seen much of as of late, and her eyes widen slightly as she offers a smile. His words cause her eyebrows to furrow in confusion before she realizes what he’s referring to. “It’s okay, Horatio,” she replies easily, so like a child in the way things are easily forgiven. “I saw the light on in your room, so I thought you probably just wanted to be alone.” Could she blame him for that, after everything that had happened? After the house he was so used to keeping in order had fallen into chaos? His admission is a bit surprising, but she attempts to keep this from her made up face. “Yeah, what’s up?” Her tone doesn’t quite match his, the phrase so casual despite the small amount of trepidation that his question causes, the way that he seems to carefully pick each word.

                𝕳er forgiveness was as naturally to belva as it was expectable; a mindless seeming phrase spoken however with a genuine heart to give words the meaning they were supposed to carry. maybe it is okay —– both of it, as well; to vanish for a sparse moment in time and admit to the necessity of it, because you needed to get better, because you were losing a sense of yourself in the failing attempt of holding everything else together. he gives but a small nod and although, his features do not carry a smile, there’s a spark of brightness in his eyes which does; displaying a moment of delight because she’s smart – which he knows, but sometimes he still tends to underestimate his siblings – especially when it comes to the topic of him. his own brain at times, is a labyrinth of different corridors to him; dim-lighted and all looking the exact same, with moving walls and no sense behind them as there were thoughts intruding which weren’t his own —– he never expected anyone to understand it. 

                𝕳is chest lifts as he inhales in the preparation for a sigh. his eyes are looking at her without truly looking at her as his mind begins to wander, wondering back not too far in time to the funeral which had started all.     “ would you come with me to our father’s grave? “      in a truth he does not want to admit, feeling too ashamed of the small distance which separated them of it, he had not stepped near the memorials once left behind for the living ever since the police had opened the pandora’s box which was pacifico’s.       “ i understand he’s fallen into more of a disfavour for some of you, “     and horatio glances at his watch, not because he has to, not because he needs to for the world to keep on moving, but because it is what reminds him most of the good vidal athanas had caused,      “ but the summer fest, i would dare to say, is the first thing he’d have liked to see after everything which happened since his death. it seems an appropriate time to visit. “     except he does not want to go alone.

#{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 interaction } #{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 interaction 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 belva } #( i am here to ride that emotional wave !!! ) #( ci should not have mentioned v:idal liked the fest lmao )

[hcrxtio]

𝔙𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔅𝔬𝔰𝔰𝔬

                   𝕿he coffee shop was but a habitual stop in horatio’s day, based on a schedule like most things in his life rather than the spontaneous desire for a coffee. he had come from his latest therapy session, being a regular guest after those and under certain seemingly haphazard circumstances — he had a system. he always did. sitting down at ever the same table he had ordered ever the same order, as well: a black coffee; just that and nothing else, and yet – because they were being kind, his therapist would remind – they sometimes managed to mess it up nonetheless, adding a few packages of sugar and milk to the plate as well. it was not a big deal. most people, he supposed, would simply decide to put them to the side and wipe them off their mind, but he had never been able to choose what should seem insignificant to him. they had to be aligned in perfect parallels; the sugar packages to the edge of the table, the spoon to the sugar, his mug to the spoon, the milk to the mug. he couldn’t explain why; why he had to do it so meticulously as well or why it made more sense to start a discussion with a stranger than let them take a package of sugar and ruin the symmetry of it all —– but some things, vidal had taught him that, did not require a detailed explanation. some things, fortunately or not, were just as they were. 

                  “ 𝕴 know what you must be thinking, “       horatio speaks without looking up at the female sitting only a table away from him, but his words are evidently – if for no other reason than everyone else knowing he’d not address them – directed at her. he’d felt her staring at him or maybe it was the apprehension that she was which made him think so. yet, he did not even think of defending himself. despite not having the chance to speak to her yet, he recognised her, of course, from all the recent events they’d all been part of together.     “ but the house was not always full of chaos, “     and his eyes flicker; finally able to look up at her as he finds himself satisfied with the way his mug is angled — handle inconveniently turned away from him but parallel to everything else,    “ i am– “     his brow furrows, briefly, as his brain is searching for a fitting word to describe what he’s trying to say.     “ –regretful you got to meet it like this. that you got to meet vidal like this, as well. “ ( @ladoucevr​ )

#{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 starter 𝖋𝖔𝖗 verity } #{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 interaction } #{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 interaction 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 verity } #( hope this works for you if you'd like me to change anything / everything hit me !! )

[hcrxtio]

𝔅𝔢𝔩𝔳𝔞 𝔄𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔞𝔰

                𝕿he silence, whether or not it was one before another storm overtook the small town and more precisely the infamous house upon the hill, was a greatly welcomed one. it’d always been his favourite state for his home; silent as either everyone else was asleep or following their assigned tasks. it was peaceful, truly, or it could’ve if only it was not for the suddenly almost defeaning sound to it – like the pressure of hands on his ears – because vidal athanas wasn’t enjoying the quiet of good children, as well, and the hole his death had left in their lives ( or in his, for at times it almost felt like he was the only one missing him ) was an entire bunker, a missing mother, and a not empty but emptied of the meaning it had held grave larger than he’d have ever anticipated it, and despite all effort he was having a harder time with it than he wanted to admit. perhaps it was the reason why he had not managed to respond to belva’s text back when she’d sent it, or perhaps it wasn’t as he barely ever found an explanation to why, at times, he could not bring his limbs to move for certain action – not even to answer with the simplicity of an  ‘ i’m fine ‘  to a person who cared for him. he was, however, okay now, standing in the hallway to their rooms as he watched the world outside go by.  

               𝕿he existence of the summer fest, so easy to forget even in its annual repetition in the course the past few months had taken, was a nice reminder of the vidal he’d always looked up to: a man brilliant enough others considered him mysterious and yet just a man who found joy, just like everyone else, in such seemingly insignificant moments. horatio’s head turned at the sound of footsteps, his body reflexively angling himself more towards her at the sight of belva.     “ i believe i have to apologise, “     he says. especially in the light of the second athanas now officially having come to disappear, it now seemed slightly inappropriate not to respond immediately.      “ i suppose i may not have been perfectly okay, “     and the flicker of a smile flashes across his lips, because he finds difficulties admitting even to that.      “ i’m sorry, truthfully. “     for both, but he’s fortunate enough it doesn’t sound like that.    “  may i... ask something of you? in the risk of putting a damper to your mood — ‘ no ‘  is, of course, a perfectly valid answer. “ ( @belva-athanas​ )

#{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 starter 𝖋𝖔𝖗 belva } #{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 interaction } #{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 interaction 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 belva } #( throwback to the ask you sent and i saw too late ) #( we're not leaving b:elva being an angel go unnoticed ) #( hope this works for you if you'd like me to change anything / everything hit me !! )

[hcrxtio]

ℜ𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔫 ℭ𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔩𝔢

                   𝖂ithdrawing himself – not entirely but just enough to fall back into old patterns and into the role he knew most; watching his siblings and those who lingered in the house rather than attempting to figure things out – had given his mental state a bit of a break to stabilise itself and find ways to organise the chaos which had unfolded, which unfortunately was still unfolding — another one of the athanas children missing and this time, it seemed, with even less a chance of a miraculous rising from the dead. horatio wasn’t going to linger on the thought of july, however. the time wasn’t here yet, and the ticking inside his head just quiet enough, again, for him to ignore it with the sounds of his father’s beloved summer fest in the distance. 

                      “ 𝕯o you mourn his death? “      horatio asks; perhaps an odd question to start a conversation with first but his brain sorted by relevance, and it was no coincidence that his path had crossed rowan’s. if he was not going to think of the brother he lost out of sight, it was well over time for him to learn more about the relatives he, he supposed, had always had on paper —– and why not start with the one who’d, thus far and despite only the few impressions horatio had gotten of him, proven to be the most sensible one.     “ vidal’s, “     he clarifies, and he believes to know the answer, but he’s curious nonetheless.       “ i’m horatio, “    and his arms untangle from where they were crossed behind his back, a hand extending for a formal shake. ( @roman-castle​ )

#{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 starter 𝖋𝖔𝖗 roman } #{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 interaction } #{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 interaction 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 roman } #( ' summer fest in the distance ' i say #in the distance of happening a few feet away or tomorrow or two weeks ago who knows ) #( hope this works for you if you'd like me to change anything / everything hit me !! )

[hcrxtio]

Who are your favorite siblings?

I love them all. I am closest to Belva, Horatio and Florence, probably. Belva is the Star in the middle of the night, that’s always guiding me. She’s always able to see the good in people. Florence is the warmth of the sun, reminding me there’s still good things to look for. And Horatio reminds me of the kid I was, the boy I wish I had gotten to know better, grown and unique. Ace is unwavering is his confidence. December does not give up no matter how much adversity he faces on the way. Graciela’s mind is out of this world. Irma has an intensity that I admire. Cassia is one of the bravest people I’ve met, they take life in stride and use it as inspiration. Erebus and Emilio have that amazing connection between each other. He’s never afraid to go for what he wants and she’s unwavering in her beliefs and doing things her way. July knows how to work to get exactly what he wants every time.

#{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 reference } #{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 referenced 𝖇𝖞 remy } #( i am so soft for that response )

[hcrxtio]

Who do you think you can trust?

                 𝕳is face immediately contorted; eyes narrowing in a glimmer of arrogance, due to the striking simple mindedness of the question.     “ there is no possibility to answer the question with the truth, “    he pointed out,    “ unless you would like me to phrase it as shallow as the ask itself: i can trust everyone except for if i can’t. it’s a matter of circumstance. “    december, for one, he would never trust even with the supposedly simple task of keeping an eye on someone’s drink without touching it while they excused themself to the bathroom – everyone else he would trust without the shadow of a doubt – however, if it came to something else, their mother, for a haphazard example, and the things he saw, he knew ( well enough to not have been contemplating, and contemplating and contemplating again, on the idea before ) that he would probably and logically have to trust december most with that information. 

#{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 answer } #{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 answer 𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 december } #( how is he not even the a:nswer but the person the a:nswer is most about anyway? ) #( what a mislead )

[hcrxtio]

Who or what are you most afraid of losing?

                  " 𝕴 imagine it if what we everyone is afraid of losing. ”     even in a world where he had grown up among others each vastly different to the next, where no opinion ever matched the other and arguments could’ve been continued for eternity if it wasn’t for their father’s transcending voice – echoing in their mother, in pacifico, in remy and in him – to stop it, be better and be good; children who didn’t argue. even growing up in a world where no one needed to learn everyone was an individual, horatio felt as though he could rightly assume the one answer everyone else’s narrowed down to.     “ reason. “     he was horrified at the glimpse of losing it —– reason to believe in the righteousness of his father, reason to believe in the innocence of his mother, a reason to stay sane and stable in the midst of all this chaos; and much to his own dismay he could feel some of the reasons start to trickle from his fingers.

#{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊���� 𝖆𝖘 answer }

[hcrxtio]

what does love mean to you?

               𝕳is back straightened in the silent evidence of discomfort at the question. it was but a little bit too personal for his taste, inquiring into a topic he found his difficulties with as is.     “ the dictionary definition speaks of intense feelings of romantic attachment based on attraction, or an intense liking and concern for another person. “     how he knew that was not part of the matter. it shouldn’t allow possibilities to wonder either, he’d like to think, as it was just another word in the share he’d researched its proper meaning for.     “ unfortunately, i do not find myself agreeing with it —– as surprising as i imagine it to be for some. “      he’d always liked clear definitions; a meaning being set in stone rather than left open for interpretation. he wasn’t good with interpretations; it requiring an extent of empathy he knew himself flawed enough to be lacking, so for him not to rely on the safety of a set i stone description, it was surprising; especially to him.     “ i suppose i would describe it with a feeling of repose. i know it’s contradicting to the poetic notion of butterflies and racing hearts but – “      his head fell into a small shake, eyes not quite managing to focus on anything as he’d prefer to stop speaking about topics he did not need anyone to know about and yet he could not bring himself to leave the ending of his sentence unfinished,     “ – love, to me, means feeling calm in another presence; due to their presence. “     a rarity if you lived in a house which’d been filled; with children back then and more secrets than he’d have liked to know now, with a father who sat in his study yet walked infinite circles inside your head, and only two women who’d ever managed to bring silence to your mind.

#{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 answer } #( I AM FIIIIINE )

[hcrxtio]

Rank your siblings from best to worst.

Graciela gets first. She’s just... she’s first. Irma’s always been an ally. Next would be Cassia. There’s something more genuine about them than most. I didn’t think Belva would ever fall in fourth, but I realize I misjudged her when we were younger. Emilio gets fifth place. Florence and Remy are a tie for six and seven. At least they aren’t robots, and if they’re acting, they do a damn good job of pretending to care. Erebus and July can battle it out for eight and nine. Horatio’s a hair above Ace. Just a hair. I don’t know the surprise blood kids enough to make a fair judgement yet.

#{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 referenced } #{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 referenced 𝖇𝖞 december } #( GOT U A:CE !!! )

[hcrxtio]

what’s something you admire about each of your siblings?

“Ace's loyalty to cause never wavers. Even if it’s a dumbass cause. Belva sees the good before the bad --- sometimes it’s like she sees good that I could swear doesn’t even exist. Cassia never tries to be anything but who they are. Emilio is brutally honest, and there’s never a boring moment with her. Erebus makes a statement by just existing. I wonder how it feels to not be a ghost. Florence never let this house break him. Graciela feels like home. Horatio has so much potential, he just doesn’t see it. At least, not in a light that matters. Irma is unapologetic. July is noticed. Remy cares... so deeply. Miles is witty, his sense of humor is topnotch. Roman seems more normal than I ever thought someone Vidal had anything to do with could be. And Verity... I can’t say I know anything about her, but she’s pretty on the outside, at least.”

#{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 referenced } #{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 referenced 𝖇𝖞 december } #( me? crying? more likely than we think )

[hcrxtio]

What would you change about each sibling?

I would make Ace nicer and Miles (I don’t know if he counts as a sibling but if he does I’m listing him) less full of himself and Horatio to be a little less bossy. And December not to have as many addiction problems because I know that he struggles and I want to help make his life easier. And I dont’ know if this counts as changing but I’d try to make Emilio more understood because I know that she doesn’t really have that. And I’d make Erebus a little less creepy. 

Everyone else can stay the same. 

#{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 referenced } #{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 referenced 𝖇𝖞 cassia }

[hcrxtio]

what’s something you admire about each of your siblings?

“Ace is determined. Cassia is artistic. December is brave. Emilio is brutally honest. Erebus is loyal. Florence is genuine. Graciela is intelligent. Horatio is dedicated. Irma is unrestrained. July is playful. And, well, I don’t know if they count, but I find Roman to be interesting and Miles gets points for looking out for his sister. Verity is good at keeping calm and helping out when someone needs help, so that’s definitely something that I admire. Especially recently.”

#{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 referenced } #{ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 referenced 𝖇𝖞 belva }