Rosalie - Blog Posts

ALRIGHT It's been hecka long since we last posted any art previews or updates, so here is this week's little sneak peek.

As always, please do not repost or use the provided images. Sharing/reblogging is okay, so long as it's linked back to the original source- Credit is due. Please do not say 'Credit to artist' or any of that BS. (Como siempre, no vuelva a publicar ni use las imágenes proporcionadas.)

Here we have a bust of Pitch/Coal, Underprey's Papyrus. Important details: - Broken fang | He has a silver tooth to place here, but only wears it for events and meetings. - Piercing golden eyelights - Long shatter-type crack along the left side of his skull, with one piece missing near the top.

Underprey creator credits: Owners - Rosalie Annabelle Ailova, Underfell Sans, Rice Boll Our social media | Twitter: Rosalie's - https://twitter.com/KarowMaggie Mine -https://twitter.com/D3triment Tumblr: Rosalie's - https://rosy-posy-posts.tumblr.com/ Mine -https://frostuu.tumblr.com/ Toyhouse: Rosalie - https://toyhou.se/RosyPosy1987 Mine -https://toyhou.se/Frostu Art Fight: Mine - https://artfight.net/~Frostu

ANSWERED ASK - ROSALIE

@wastheheart asked “you’re allowed to need help sometimes.” (for rosalie)

Though not hiding her moods from the coven was perhaps a selfish attempt to get them to feel what she felt, it didn't mean Rosalie exactly knew what to do when help was offered directly. A frustration has taken hold of her - they should already know what was wrong, she shouldn't have to SPELL IT OUT. "I'm fine, Esme. Really." A lie she knows Esme, especially, can see right through. The other woman had a way of seeing beneath the layers the others sometimes looked past. It seemed sometimes that she almost felt them, too. A guilt prickling at Rose's throat for projecting such negativity onto someone who only ever wanted to help. Then, more frustration - how did she maintain such caring calm? The younger vampire had only felt herself become more bitter with age. A rose with many, many thorns. "I just don't think I'm the only one who will need help if things go south with Edward and the human."

Rosalie's guard almost softens at the other woman's acceptance. It seemed to be the effect she had on people. Though still wary, she acknowledges Esme's intentions seem pure. That the unspoken understanding between women still translated to vampirism. A gentle nod is all she seems to be able to offer in thanks for now.

"I need to do this." She had never felt so sure of anything in her life than she was about the decision to kill Royce. She'd woken up screaming in this life, her heightened senses seeming to heighten the mental anguish of her final moments along with them. Physically, she was healed from the wounds inflicted by Royce and his brutes. But the fear and powerlessness she had felt still permeated her mind. She didn't want to feel that anymore, she couldn't carry it with her forever. But she would carry it as long as Royce still lived, growing old with no consequence - how many more women could he do that to? How many had he already? She would carry out his sentence for them all. And it would be as long and painful as her death had felt. "There will be no justice otherwise. I want him to feel everything I felt. I....I want him to be begging me for his life before I take it and I will enjoy every moment."

Deciding she can trust the other vampire with her plan - it would be nice to have someone know where she was were anything to go wrong ( she still wasn't entirely sure what could and couldn't kill vampires ) - Rosalie crosses the room to the wardrobe that had been pre-filled for her with clothes the Cullens had figured a girl of her age wore, pulling the other items back to reveal her own addition. A beautiful, showy white wedding dress, veil and all. She'd intended to wear it to marry Royce. Now she intended to wear it to sign his marriage with DEATH. "What do you think? Too theatrical?"

As much as those of this coven might find her maternal instincts suffocating, Esme (at times) does too. She often wonders what would have happened if she didn't do what she did while hormones ranged both unbalanced and raw. If she had grieved and tried to heal before Carlisle changed her; often she can't tell if this is truthfully her nature of a consequence of Carlisle changing her when he did. Or are thoughts just remnants of Charles ready to criticise once more?

Esme somewhat winces with the passing thought, her brow furrowing slightly. Still, her lips twitch with the recognition of a joke and Esme shrugs slender shoulders. "Nearly twelve years."

It was ironic that she had previously fled her old life only to wake up to her new one contained in a house with two other men. The first few months of this life were beyond hard for such reasons; ones she knows are familiar to Rosalie, now.

It's why Esme is beyond furious with Carlisle. If he had just stopped to think—to ask—instead of acting 'compassionately', perhaps he would have been able to understand the implications of his actions.

Esme's eyes follow Rosalie across the room, settling on her face as she herself settles on the arm of a chair. Apart from slight widening of eyes, Esme responds as nonchalantly as Rosalie. "As much Carlisle has his ways, Rosalie, the only rules we really follow are those bestowed upon us by the Volturi." Esme busies herself by smoothing out the creases of her trousers. "And you will be welcome back. I will make sure of it."

Steely, curious eyes examine Esme as she speaks and moves further into the room. There was an air of something maternal in her attempts at connection, though Rosalie wouldn't really have known. Her own mother had only known how to show her affection through buying her pretty things. The best example of a mother she had to compare it to was how Vera had been with Henry, and how she had only seen that for such a short time.

Rosalie raises a brow at the other woman's comment about having things she could kill for, deciding to make joke of it. Deflection, perhaps, but something makes her want to put the other woman at ease, feeling there are things underneath her comment that cause a similar despair. "I can imagine, you've had to live with two men for....how long?" Though she doesn't want to get too familiar with these people, still uncertain of their intentions with her. She was no fool, she could put the pieces together that their son - the gloomy boy by the name of Edward who Rosalie felt tried too hard to be mysterious - was a bachelor and she was a pretty thing around his age. She wouldn't be pawned off to some strange man after everything she'd survived, no matter how handsome. Clearing her throat, the beauty perches herself on the arm of the nearest chair, returning to her steely reserve.

"Well, I've decided I am going to kill Royce." It's matter of fact, as if she's decided what she will have for breakfast. "And his friends. I do not care if it is against Carlisle's rules, or if I am no longer welcome here after the fact." Rosalie isn't quite sure why she is telling the other all this. There was something to be said about the presence of another woman. Something that told her she might understand why there would be no stopping her on this decision.

The bite is familiar. In fact, it reminds Esme of herself when she remembered the exact reasons for becoming what she is now. The moment of realisation that Carlisle had stolen death from her was met with anguish and fire. Her rage was white and all consuming; the fresh pain of remembering her grief was only enhanced by newborn senses. Carlisle had taken the brunt of it admirably, just as he is now.

"No, no I don't. But as a woman who opened her eyes into this life without another woman to come to, I felt incredibly alone." Her words silence, Esme standing just in front of a closed bedroom door. With their vampiric hearing and Edward's ability, closing the door will do little to offer privacy, but at least it's something. "And I wish to be able to help you not feel similarly."

There is almost regret in trying to reach out, but Esme knows she at least has to try. Edward is being needlessly difficult and Esme isn't exactly thrilled by Carlisle's decision to do... well, this.

"Carlisle... he doesn't kill to preserve his idea of humanity. It's... complicated. I don't because, well, I have never known any different," Esme explains, deciding not to sugarcoat anything under the impression Rosalie will prefer to deal in facts. "... I think, sometimes, yes. But I am a coward in that regard... I'd lose my nerve despite the things I could kill for."