Louis’ brother: “He had the smoothest skin and the largest blue eyes. He was robust, not thin as I am now and was then” (IWTV) Not sure whether it’s canon or fanon but Paul was supposedly blond. He was 15 when he died, right after an argument in which Louis had laughed at him, had not believed him, and so, felt responsible for Paul’s death.
Louis’ sister: Unnamed (it’s fanon that her name is Henriette “Minette“ de Pointe du Lac), she played the harpsichord. After Paul died “My sister went to bed rather than face the funeral… People in society asked my sister offensive questions about the whole incident, and she became an hysteric. She wasn’t really an hysteric. She simply thought she ought to react that way, so she did… I did come to know my sister, forbidding her the plantation for the city life which she so needed in order to know her own time of life and her own beauty and come to marry, not brood for our lost brother or my going away or become a nursemaid for our mother.”
Louis’ mother: Unnamed (it’s fanon that her name is
Paulette de Pointe du Lac) Louis didn’t seem to have a great relationship with his mother. When Paul died, “my mother told everyone in the parish that something horrible had happened in my room which I would not reveal; and even the police questioned me, on the word of my own mother.”
Louis’ father: Unnamed (it’s fanon that his name is
Aurestile Jean Michel Pointe du Lac) At the beginning of IWTV, Louis is 25, his father is dead and Louis “was head of the family and I had to defend [Paul] constantly from my mother and sister.” Defend him from their trying to get him to go out and have fun; but Paul was committed to the Bible.
Uncompromising idealism, haunted romanticism, fatal ennui, and a heady amount of scandal and vice: red roses and pale carnation with a draught of laudanum, smears of opium tar, a hint of absinthe, and mercury ointment.
My thoughts upon smelling this: “Well now I want to go have a midnight picnic in the garden. How difficult would it be to set up all the velvet throws and pillows, candelabras for enough light to read a book of antique ghost stories, and a tray with the absinthe, glasses, and the absinthe fountain? Far too ambitious a plan; I should just stay draped on the couch. Why oh why don’t I have a butler?”
Shelly, Byron, and Keats is one of my favorites from the Only Lovers Left Alive collection. I embrace my cliches so hard they squeak in mock-protest.
Out of the entire line of BPAL’s OLLA scents, Byron, Shelley, and Keats is my second-most favorite. Blood Popsicle still owns my heart, but the scent for the mad, bad, and dangerous to know poetry boys is a very close second.
If it isn’t possible for me to lounge on a velvet couch and read ghost stories right now, at least I can smell like it.
Imagine My Immortal but written in the style of Shakespeare.
SCENE 1. A MAGIC SCHOOL CALLED HOGWARTS IN ENGLAND
Enter ENOBY
ENOBY
For truth, that which the gods have christened me Has many parts, like these locks, flow’n from my crown. That hellish sound, which forms mine name, sprung from The dusky shades of these roots, so like the stone But broken, rent, mottled; for, like the flames That hie from Hades, the dusk is split with peals Of cold violet, the shade of icy fangs Met with military scarlet; coils not But hangs; not ragged, but lustrous, set off Like a precious jewel made more pure by the Barren winds of silent winter deserts, So are not these jewels of mine own self-crown Brought forth in splendour so close to these eyes Frozen, as glaciers, forged by an artist Who, bereft of artisan tools, gives himself And sculpts his godly business with that Which the muses draw blindly from his vision. Thus sorrow, reflected twice in these mirrors, Casting mine eyes as icy limpid tears.
Imagine Shakespeare but written in the style of My Immortal
Hi my name is Hamlet and I have long blond hair that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like the sun god Apollo (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to him but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. My mother married my uncle after my father died. I have pale white skin. I’m also a student, and I went to a school called Wittenberg in Germany but I just graduated. I’m a prince (in case you couldn’t tell) but I wear mostly black bc I’m in mourning. I For example today I was wearing a black doublet with matching lace around it and a black tights, white undershirt and black boots. I was with my mother and Horatio. We were standing inside Elsinore. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. My uncle Claudius stared at me. I put up my middle finger at him.
