i'm pure at heart, it repels the dirt

Saint James Paris Hotel, Paris, Sunday

Sun, 25 Nov 2018 19:25:51 GMT

So, Isabelle Lightwood was a married woman. At least according to the customs of the mundane world.

And more importantly -- okay, maybe not more importantly, but pretty importantly all the same, she was a married woman who was yet to have a proper honeymoon. Oh, sure, they'd had those few days in Vegas, but they'd also had Beth around for most of it. And while Isabelle loved Flick's mother from the bottom of her heart, it didn't really make for what her understanding of a real honeymoon was.

And then she'd had to go back to New York and Flick had had to return to the Academy, cutting their married bliss short.

But, now, almost two whole months later, they'd managed to find a few days' worth of time to actually see each other (because there was nothing like starting a marriage with almost two months of not being able to meet at all), and Isabelle had jumped at the chance to just go and whisk Flick away to somewhere far away.

So here they were, in Paris, at an exceedingly fancy hotel, entering not their room but their own private three-story villa because Isabelle didn't do things in half-measures, and also because she'd somehow scored a very good deal, because sometimes she was very, very lucky.

And if her wide-eyed looks around were anything to go by, she at least approved of her choice, herself."Oh it's so pretty."

[ooc: NFB, for the husband, what. And also massively massive SP.]

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The Institute, New York, Tuesday

Tue, 24 Jul 2018 14:54:19 GMT

Isabelle had been away from Idris for almost a month. Not by choice, of course, but because of duties in New York. Specifically, her mother had had to spend a little more time in Alicante.

Which had left Isabelle in charge of the Institute.

Not for the whole month, of course. Just a couple of days at a time, five in a row at most. But, still. It was a responsibility which Isabelle took very seriously, which meant that even when Maryse had been back in New York and in charge, Isabelle had stayed at the Institute, helping her mother and updating her on everything that had been going on. Not to mention learning things for her next bout of temporary leadership.

And to make up for her absence in Idris, Isabelle had of course sent Flick some letters. But, to really make up for it, she'd also made sure to send his phone a whole lot of alluring selfies - from the casually adorable to the downright dirty - knowing full well that he wouldn't see them until he made it out of Idris and to somewhere where mundie tech worked, at which point they would flood to his phone all at once. That was the point, see. To make him want to see her as soon as he saw all those photos that had accumulated over the past few weeks.

Except, there was a slight problem.

Okay, two.

One, Isabelle had no idea when Flick was going to get to come back to New York next.

Two, her version of New York was experiencing a truly outrageous heatwave that was testing even Isabelle's angel-given ability to withstand rough conditions. So she'd been feeling pretty gross for the past couple of days. The AC at their apartment had broken down this past weekend and no amount of threatening phonecalls seemed to be getting it fixed any quicker, while the Institute was starting to get uncomfortably warm as well. So as Isabelle sat behind her mother's desk at the Institute right now, hot selfies were the farthest thing from her mind. Instead, she was trying to find whether she needed anyone's official authorisation to cajole Magnus or another warlock into cooling the building down through supernatural means.

That was how bad this was getting.

[ooc: NFB, but open! This is me dealing with my own weather issues, omg.]

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The Apartment, New York, Tuesday

Tue, 10 Apr 2018 17:24:06 GMT

Isabelle hadn't been at the apartment much, lately. Without Flick permanently residing in New York, she ended up splitting most of her time between Alicante and the NY Institute without too many visits to what should have been home, but wasn't. Not just yet.

But Isabelle was at the apartment, today.

Deep-cleaning the kitchen.

Look, she needed something to do, and she hadn't done much to reorganize the kitchen since they'd first moved in! At least not as much as she had done to make sure the bedroom and all its closets (of varying levels of dirty) stayed organized. So today, it was the kitchen's turn.

Those spice racks were going to be impeccable after this.

[ooc: Open for whatever! Possibly with SP. I am never not tired.]

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The Institute, New York, Friday

Fri, 28 Jul 2017 11:54:34 GMT

Isabelle had meant to visit Flick at the Academy in Idris today, but something's things just didn't go according to plan. There had been a couple of major incidents of demonic activity in Manhattan earlier in the week, and so Isabelle had ended up doing patrol after patrol (missing her class in Fandom in the process) and staying at the Institute while the Conclave focused on tracking down whoever was causing so much trouble.

So she'd sent Flick a fire message, telling him she'd arranged the portals for him to come visit. And when he'd shown up, she'd told him they were going to be sparring. She was in the mindset for it, and she was curious about what it was like to fight him now, after so long at the Academy.

(Especially because she'd stopped sparring with him before he'd started his studies.)

And now they were in the training room at the Institute. Just the two of them; everyone else currently at the Institute were far too busy elsewhere.

Often, Isabelle trained in gear because she most often also fought in gear and so it made sense, but by Friday, she felt as if she'd been practically living in Marked gear all week, so she'd opted for more mundane workout clothes. You weren't going to see any sports bra/top and clingy exercise pants combos in the training halls of Alicante.

She finished putting her hair up into a bun, then stretched her arms. "You ready for this?"

[ooc: NFB and for the boy lovingly modded here.]

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The Apartment, New York, Early Monday Morning

Mon, 17 Jul 2017 20:42:34 GMT

Where did the island get this stuff?

That was the first thought on Isabelle's mind when she woke up early on Monday morning. She'd spent the weekend as some version of herself with a different face, who dressed like Simon used to (what was with that flannel shirt around her waist all the time?), and who had a crush on Valentine, of all people. On top of being very very sweet and naive and so much more innocent than Isabelle herself could ever remember having been.

It was a lot to unpack. So she was left wondering where the hell Fandom managed to dig all this stuff up from.

... Well, no. Actually, the first thing in her mind this morning was the same thing that was also the first thing that came out of her mouth: "Oh, thank the Angel." She was back. She was Isabelle Lightwood, Shadowhunter, lover of whips and low-cut dresses, and there was no other version she'd rather be.

The second thought on her mind, that was about how Fandom did this to people.

The third one made her look over and find the spot next to her on the bed empty – predictably. Anything else would've been pretty rude of Flick on several levels, and he wasn't like that. So, she called out, with her voice still hoarse from sleep, "Jon? You there?"

[ooc: NFB. For the boy.]

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The Apartment, New York, Saturday

Sat, 15 Jul 2017 16:34:24 GMT

As far as Isabelle was concerned, this was just another regular day. Because she wasn't aware she was supposed to be about a foot taller, a lot more pale, and also covered in scars and runes.

She was, however, very aware that she couldn't find her laptop. Not anywhere. She was going around the apartment, peeking under the bed and into cupboards like maybe she'd gotten distracted last night after she finished working and stuffed it somewhere unusual? Val had asked her to make a thing and well, she'd been working on it way too late and she had a habit of some absent-mindedness sometimes, and ––

But seriously, where was it? It was as if no one lived here who depended on their laptops to get through the day!

(Take a hint, Izzy.)

[ooc: NFB but open for calls/texts/the boy! Why go AU when you can go for an AU from within an AU? Izzy's now an AU version of the version of her from Shadowhunters.]

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Alicante, Idris, Tuesday Afternoon

Tue, 04 Jul 2017 17:30:57 GMT

Well, Isabelle knew this had been coming. She was packing an overnight bag in her room when her father happened to glance in on his way past the open door. He said he was on his way out, to anoher meeting, then asked, "Back to New York again?"

( In which Izzy tells her dad some stuff. )

[ooc: NFB but open for that guy that lives in this country, should he so wish.]

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