texts from folkmore; tffm

[folkie]

Texts From Last Night

Welcome to Folkmore's Texts From Last Night meme! This meme can be used as a branch off from our Test Drive Memes and be used as game canon or just for casual fun in the setting! You do not need to be in our game or be invited to play on our TFLN. This can be a great way to meet current players for future invites, get a feel for the setting, or just have some fun.

This can be used for samples on our applications and used as spoons for players accepted into the game!

TEXTS FROM LAST NIGHT GENERATOR
use not required, other sources are ok too

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[whowillmourn]

It would make Mayerling so happy to know that Sharon thinks of home as people, that she's had people enough of her life that they still define the feeling. Sharon is Mayerling's anchor, and wherever she is is where he wants to be, so long as she lives. Given the Sleeper blood in her system, that may outlast that of a typical human lifespan, something that would also make him happy. Yet he's been alone so long that home, that sense of belonging, no longer conjures the family he still loves no matter how long they've past, no longer brings to mind the handful of people he's loved, no, instead it conjures the large emptiness of a castle and the closed confines of his carriage, it brings to mind the land itself dangerous and free. So like Exile.

"A similar quality," Mayerling suggests as an end to Sharon's sentence. He's experienced her Otherworld, been hunted by her, and faced the personal demons it conjured. It too feels familiar, the experience of ages sped up to a near constant barrage. He doesn't compare her Otherworld to home, not aloud. "It is a part of you, and I love all of you, including Otherworld. It's incredible what you can do."

[fogsong]

"That's very sweet of you given that I tortured you with it," she says playfully. Some days the memory can dig at her but she's learned to give herself some grace—at least where the Pthumerians (+ Thirteen) are concerned. He doesn't hold it against her so neither can she. But the fact he can love even that, it's a next level sort of acceptance, one that nearly makes her heart feel like it could burst. It's no wonder he's home.

"Some days, I'm proud of it. Like sure, it's all kinds of awful, but it's my awful. Other days... I'm not so sure." Because her abilities don't make any sense to her. Why does she have them? Is it because she's the vessel? A glorified incubator? "What if it's not even my awful?"

[whowillmourn]

"Nothing I haven't tortured myself with for far longer," Mayerling reminds her. The physical manifestation was different, but he's also experienced physical dangers when in emotional turmoil before. It was challenging. He respects Otherworld for what it is, and he's glad Sharon has means to protect herself. Even should someone get out of Otherworld, it recommends not tangling with Sharon again. There's no guarantee a second time would go as well.

"What do you think of it, when you wonder if it's not your awful?" Mayerling asks. He invites her to say more. His thoughts and feelings are not as important as hers. Through their bond, he offers grounding and comfort, no matter what she thinks or feels, he's there for her. He loves her.

[fogsong]

The reminder gets a soft sigh of acknowledgment and a gentle, "I know." That didn't make the fact it happened any easier, the last thing she wants to do is torture him, after all, but it's done and over with. At most, it's a tiny sore spot on her heart and even then it's a part of their story, which makes it something to cherish.

Sharon adjusts her hold on him and slips her arms around his middle to better tuck herself up against him, embracing the feelings that echo from the bond; allowing them to settle the rampant buzz of anxiety the question stirs up. "It fucking terrifies me," she admits, her hold on him tightening. "If it's not mine, it belongs to something else inside of me." And that fills her with such a great unease she almost feels ill.

"Do you think they could have been right? Do you think it could be god? Because I'm afraid I do."

[whowillmourn]

Mayerling holds Sharon close, familiar with the terrible reality of being able to do little about something inside someone that terrifies them, that they must live with so long as they live. It is his turn to comfort Sharon and to be there for her, to love her no matter the reality.

"It is not god," Mayerling says with complete certainty, "That is the desperate idea they clung to in order to feel powerful. Whether it is yours or something else inside you, you have mastered this power, this place, and made it yours, yours and yours alone. Fear is healthy, but nothing in Otherworld is stronger or more terrifying than you, you incredible wonderful person."

His sincerity fills his words and the bond between them. Whatever might be inside Sharon, Sharon is stronger and more powerful; Mayerling knows that fact deep in his heart and trusts it, trusts her. The fear may always be there. A place like Otherworld deserves respect at all times, much like the Frontier. It is hers but also a wild place, much as she is a wild person.

[fogsong]

Sharon inhales deeply as he speaks, letting the emotions from their bond surge through her, dampening the doubt and fear. His unwavering certainty and sincerity become an anchor, grounding her in a moment where she could easily spiral into overthinking. Her grip on him tightens as she exhales slowly, her racing heartbeat beginning to steady.

"Incredible, wonderful, huh?" she murmurs, her voice soft as she tilts her head back to look up at him, blue eyes damp. He cradles her heart so gently and, for a moment, she's in awe of him, grateful and full. She nestles back against him, finding comfort in his presence. "I want you to be right because... maybe if it's just mine, if it’s mine alone, it won't always have to be a nightmare."

It's not something she's ever dared to believe, but now, with him, maybe... just maybe.

[whowillmourn]

Mayerling strokes Sharon's back, one hand more than enough to hold her in place in the air, and she grips him in return. It's wonderful to be together, no matter where, and Mayerling will support her always. When she needs a pillar of strength, he is there, same as she is an unwavering source of strength for him. They have each other through everything. No matter how wonderful a place Folkmore is, they are weighed down by their pasts, their guilt, their fears, and they must face them. Fortunately, they can face them together.

"I believe that is a possibility," Mayerling says, "It reflects the inner turmoil of anyone you send there, but it also reflects your own troubles and traumas. The more you face them and the less power they hold over you, the weaker they could become in Otherworld, until such a point, it is not a nightmare but a dream. A wonderful refuge that no one can take from you but to which you can bring anyone in need of such respite and strength."

It's a wonderful dream, one Mayerling doubts can be accomplished overnight. That is no reason to give up on it, however. Every step Sharon takes on herself will reflect in her Otherworld, he's certain.

[fogsong]

It sounds almost too much like a dream, a hope that feels distant and unattainable. But that doesn’t mean she won’t try to make it real. She’s done the impossible before. Still, the thought of confronting her traumas, even with Mayerling by her side, sends a chill down her spine. The prospect is daunting, terrifying even, but if she has to face those demons, she’d rather do it with him than without.

"Would you help me?" she asks, her voice soft as she pulls back slightly to meet his gaze, needing to see the answer in his eyes. He has always been there for her, every step of the way, just as she has been there for him. But the Otherworld, her Otherworld, is a waking nightmare—an endless, twisted landscape where fear and regret take on monstrous forms. Mayerling has already endured more than his fair share of nightmares, faced down the ghosts of his past more times than she can count. Asking him to confront them again, for her sake, feels like an enormous request, but she needs to know if he’s willing to walk through that darkness with her.

"It's all right if you can't." Or won't. She'd never hold it against him.

[whowillmourn]

The answer is in Mayerling's eyes, the glow of them calm and certain and true, and the answer is in his face and his body language, in all of him before he speaks a word. It requires no thought, no contemplation, for he has long considered it before she asked, before she dared to raise the possibility. As quiet as her voice is, Mayerling suspects Sharon knows, at least deep down, what his answer will be already, for he's always spoken positively of the time she hunted him and trapped him in Otherworld. He has no regrets for falling for her trick of injuring herself. Whatever he needed to go through to ensure she received aid for the illness she suffered was worth it, and Mayerling gave her a gift at the end of that hunt, when she came to her senses, to help her remember it by, as a watch for any other effects on her mind and a reminder of how deeply she's loved.

"Yes, my love, I will help you," Mayerling says, "I would gladly go to your Otherworld however many times it takes to help you face your fears. There is nothing Otherworld can do to tear me away from you, to lessen how much I love you, to change how I look at you, or in any way diminish our relationship. I love you, Sharon da Silva. I love all of you, and I will be there for you however I can all of our days."

[fogsong]

Sharon knew. How could she not? Mayerling has always embraced everything she is, everything she can do, and all the things that haunt her. He’s never flinched, not even when she dragged him into the Otherworld. She knew he wouldn’t start now. But hearing him say it, hearing him confirm it with such quiet certainty, soothes most of her worries—never all, but enough—and fills her with an overwhelming rush of love. It surges through her, leaving her with only one possible response: she rises up and kisses him, deeply, passionately, pouring everything she feels into that connection.

When she finally pulls away, she’s breathless, and tears shimmer along her lower lashes, catching the light.

"Thank you," she murmurs against his lips, her words barely a whisper before she seals them with another, softer kiss. He knows the horrors that lurk there, the nightmares that will claw at him, and still, he’s willing to face it all with her. "I’d say you have no idea how much that means to me, but..."

But he does. He knows. It means the whole damn world.

[whowillmourn]

Mayerling kisses Sharon back equally passionately, holding her tight against him, and should he not care about common decency, he very well may have carried on further so long as Sharon continued to kiss him, such is the intensity of the emotions between them and the way they flood his system from the compounding effects of elevated vampire emotions, increased Legend emotions, and shared Familiar bond feedback. So he breathes hard when Sharon pulls away, closes his eyes, and focuses on Sharon's heartbeat and her words to ground himself.

He strokes her spine for a few moments, nothing mattering but the two of them. Exile, for all its dangers, seems to appreciate what they've done for it. They have space, a pause, a respite.

"How much it means to you is why I will do it, however much it takes, however long it takes, for your well being is worth any trial or tribulation. The fact that I can help in such a meaningful way fills me with joy."

[fogsong]

“This is what I love about us,” Sharon murmurs, her voice soft and reverent as her eyes trace every curve and angle of his face, committing each feature to a memory she knows will never be perfect but feels urgent to hold onto. Love is such a strange, wild thing, tangled in everything they are and have become. It’s as delicious as it is confusing, an emotion that wraps itself around the soul and pulls tight. And not always gently.

“All the things we’re willing to do for each other,” she continues, the words slipping out with a quiet conviction. To Sharon, that’s the essence of it. Love isn’t just about the sweetness and warmth; it’s the sacrifice, the small and sometimes painful ways they stretch themselves for the other’s happiness. She’s felt love that wasn’t willing to take that leap, love that hesitated at the edge of discomfort. But she’ll never accept anything less again.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she repeats, her voice taking on a rhythmic cadence, like a chant, like a truth she needs him to feel as much as hear. Each repetition carries a weight, the intensity of everything she’s ever felt for him, and her heart aches with the fullness of it, with the strange, funny beauty of loving him.

[whowillmourn]

There's only been one request that has given Mayerling pause with his human lovers: the request that he bite them. It is so anathema to his whole being, and it asks him to sacrifice them as much as it does something of himself. To purposely risk their well being for an idea of further closeness. Everything else he has needed to do, everything else he's chosen to do for someone he loves, they are simple decisions.

Mayerling spins them in a gentle circle above Exile, welcome and comfortable in the magical setting, the one that comforts those who've been exiled and no others. They are both welcome here. They are welcome with each other. Full and completely, where others rejected parts of them, they can be fully themselves. Just as Exile accepts them. It feels the right setting in the moment. "I love you, and I will always love you, Sharon da Silva."