LUSCINIA

@rescinae-blog / rescinae-blog.tumblr.com

Avatar

WRITER AESTHETICS.

Image

JOHN KEATS: ย  ย  the lavender in sunsets, flowers in the rain, sunlight slipping through clouds, lazy summer afternoons, the heavy scent of musk, flickering candlelight reflecting off the gold titles of books, fireflies on a cool summer night, being wrapped in fresh bedsheets, the ache of wanting what you can never have, dripping sunlight like gold, loving someone so exquisite, soft lips and soft whispers, fingers through hair, names of lovers carved in trees, broken glass, the insistence of being perpetually dreamy

F. SCOTT FITZGERALD: ย  ย mahogany wood, crisp winter skies with cold bright stars, the solitude of an early autumn morning wrapped in fog, empty bottles on stacks and stacks of books haphazardly placed in a messy room, pale bruised arms reaching out into the darkness, cigarette smoke just barely hiding the scent of alcohol, a wall of books all poetry and old and weathered, a bad thunderstorm occurring at the end of a beautiful day, the way tragedy strikes in your heart but ends up stopping your breathing for a moment, your favorite sweater, parties spilling into four a.m. with the stars above spinning and dancing, the contrast of blood against snow, a purple split lip oozing blood, black eyes fading to blue to pale skin, the butterflies of falling in love for the first time, the statues falling apart over time in cemeteries, the romanticization of self-destruction

FRANZ KAFKA: ย  the weight of dread that sits heavily in your stomach when thinking about the future, decrepit houses cloaked in mystery from children telling stories of people who died there, the way not even light can escape a black hole, the rich smell of old books, delicate veins in the wrist, ย ghosts filling lungs, shattered bones, raindrops on the tongue, rusting metal, nostalgia that aches, the way hope feels like a plastic bag over your head

H.P. LOVECRAFT: ย  ย the anxiety felt when staring into an unknown cave, pouring rain and mud, a childโ€™s fear of the dark, thinking so many questions about your existence as you stare at the vast expanse of never ending ocean, the silence of three a.m., danse macabre by camille saint-saens playing on a record in an empty house, the possibility of aliens and the weird feeling it gives you that you canโ€™t explain, unexplainable phenomena, strange lights in the sky in the dead of night, ouija boards and urban legends

JACK KEROUAC: ย  ย the brisk pine air of being on a mountain, travels without a destination, those nights where youโ€™re missing three hours of memory, screaming to a lifeless desert about how youโ€™re so alive, coffee shops late at night, car rides at night spent speeding and laughing in the dark, naps spent in the sun, novels highlighted and underlined with notes and epiphanies in the margins, the way uncertainty sits on the shoulders, ignoring flaws and loving life, wind through hair, depression as fog in the brain, impossible ideals, a quiet sunrise, walks alone, when you think about trying to discover all the secrets to the universe, dazzling people, open lands stretching out into infinity, falling in love with being alive

EDGAR ALLAN POE: ย  ย the oceanโ€™s horizon inseparable from fog, hollow bones, a preserved heart held in hands, twinkling stars above an old graveyard, the way everything turns to dust, silent black birds with eyes full of wisdom, self-inflicted flames, perfection depicted as a rotting corpse, death as bricks in the heart, lips barely brushing against each other, glassy glazed eyes, biting into a lemon, heart-shaped bruises, rotting flowers on a grave, dried blood and spilled liquor, the hush of dusk when it begins raining, the intimacy of a secret

TAGGED BY: @drgfyre AYE thank you!ย  TAGGING: @arviousโ€‹ ; @albafulgorโ€‹ ; @duxerisโ€‹ ; @phylxrchusโ€‹ + anyone.ย 

Avatar

Jimmy ย Santiago ย Baca ย Lines.

Excerpts from the Mariposa Letters pt. 4 ย ( ย from his book ย Singing at the Gates ) Bold ย the ones that apply to your muse, ย italicize ย the ones that your muse directs at someone else.

image

prophets made themselves scrolls and wrote holy words ย โ€ข ย rich green and red and blue plumes ย โ€ข ย golden light sprayed in me ย โ€ข spreading my wings I flew โ€ข ย each moment was a holy one ย โ€ข ย like a temple with its fires ย โ€ข ย I was the fire of sky ย โ€ข ย if only I could open my palm and show the world ย โ€ข ย the diamonds of my heart ย โ€ข ย I will be leaving this place ย โ€ข ย mad hermits laugh from yellow teeth ย โ€ข ย crush black bugs between their fingers in the middle of the night โ€ข ย convicts scout the silence โ€ข ย wicked pirates ย โ€ข scarred faces ย โ€ข ย some have lost an eye or half a finger โ€ข ย tattoos on their arms and legs and back and breast ย โ€ข ย and the reaper, ย always the reaper ย โ€ข ย screams of the long dead still night still hang here ย โ€ข ย webs in the corner of the ceiling ย โ€ข ย pulses crawl like black spiders with a red diamond on the belly ย โ€ข ย life times are spun ย โ€ข ย silk that burns easily in the moonlight โ€ข so many condemn themselves for the sin of being born ย โ€ข I would like to rest โ€ข ย by a stream take off my bandana and wet it ย โ€ข ย my brown rough face ย โ€ข ย sopping wet around my neck ย โ€ข ย church bells beat deeply ย โ€ข one can hear birds take off through the branches ย โ€ข ย for a long time I watch a line of red ants crawling up a tree ย โ€ข I lie naked and sleep so very long โ€ข ย farmland turns to city โ€ข ย the quiet into car horns ย โ€ข ย the stream into an asphalt road ย โ€ข ย whoever I might have been must know who I am ย โ€ข ย a man behind bars ย โ€ข inside the letter was a lock of your hair ย โ€ข ย I caressed it as though it were alive ย โ€ข ย I smelled it and ran my lips across it ย โ€ข secret voices of tales ย โ€ข an enchanted young man is led off into the woods ย โ€ข ย bounding with claws ย โ€ข ย into the heated earth ย โ€ข ย tearing free of the valleys ย โ€ข ย rise into the mountains ย โ€ข ย snarl from branches ย โ€ข ย high ascents of rock ย โ€ข ย crawl the crevices ย โ€ข ย scrunch through crisp leaves newly fallen ย โ€ข ย shake their fur and tramp ย โ€ข ย tongue loose ย โ€ข ย long strides ย โ€ข ย push through the night ย โ€ข ย bound over ravines ย โ€ข ย they come here to me ย โ€ข ย place their paws upon my chest ย โ€ข ย curl next to me ย โ€ข listen long into the night โ€ข ย small birds whistle to me as I go hunting ย โ€ข ย small rabbit hidden in a cluster of bushy leaves ย โ€ข ย I wait ย โ€ข

Tagged by: @arvious (*smooches yOUR FACE*)ย  Tagging: @frostwoven ; @lazuliss ; @lockethart ; @phylxrchus andย @pretendcr

Avatar

The heaviness of every limb gnaws on these usually Oh so precise movements; her arms do not follow the mind's instructions. They never did after curing sessions which one would consider as excessively straining for both. - glare wanders reluctantly/ SLOWLY (you cannot loik her in tge eyes!) ere finding a pair of lethargic blue. The excruciating pain within had ceased but crow's heart ached still. "-- does it hurt?"

Avatar

One would never forget, the first time divine hands ghosted over aching body, searching for what was causing the crow so much pain.ย The festering feeling of something toxic BURNING deeply within the otherโ€™s frame, lacerating throughย pristine senses in the most disturbing ways the moment one tried to soothe, undoubtedlyย absorbing the pain by making it part of OWN flesh and bone โ€” A procedure which from that moment on had to be REPEATED every single night, for one feared the crowโ€™s health would otherwise deteriorate. Healing, CURING, forever mendingโ€ฆ An usually rather fundamental process rooted in ethereal abilities ( the oracle had after all aided countless of people before ) turned COMPLEX; her protectorโ€™s injury was neither plague nor natural causes, and unless treated, one knew it would grow worseโ€ฆย Forcing KEEPING the crow alive became a silent promise. Ultimately, it was the ROLE the โ€˜queen of peaceโ€™ carried in the game of life. Again and again, it felt as if brittle glass poured into languidly rotting veins, day upon day, brittle glass sharpened.ย 

Still the royalty didnโ€™t know the cause behind stoic protectorโ€™s STATE, but a former glaive ought to carry some damage โ€” As oracle, it was oneโ€™s DUTY to do whatever one could do to help no matter the consequences, especially towards treasured escort.ย It became almost a shared secret language, the SIGNS one had learned to read and interpret whenever a new healing session was neededโ€” Even after long, tiring days, one insisted to soothe the crowโ€™s troubles. It was a matter to take care of, a part of their DAILY ROUTINEโ€ฆ However, the first couple sessions were straining but doable, lately, one had to put more effort into it. Combined with keeping the darkness at bay it became an arduous task indeed, but one that had to be done โ€” If ever faced with a choice, the oracleโ€™s own needs finished dead last, even if limbs grew heavy, gaze became dim, andย nerves screamed in protest. Still, one kept posture straightened and pristine features collected, nearlyย savouring these moments of healing esteemed protector, for it inflicted a fraction of CLOSENESS one so direly longed for without even knowing it โ€” Even if it came with a steep, steep cost.ย 

The excruciating pain within increased, but the songbirdโ€™s HEART had lightened.ย 

After finished session, the oracle gently withdrew glowing palms from the otherโ€™s frame and sunk down onto the nearest chair, arms flatly hanging towards the floor while lids momentarily fluttered shut, exhaling slowly. One could sense the crowโ€™s gaze wander, causing own to search for hers, lips twitching into the ghost of a smile the moment blue met auburn before exhaustion again overtook immaculate features. The question, โ€˜DOES IT HURT?โ€™, surprised, yet of course, their time spent together surely began to reveal the toll healing took on divine body and mind. Instead of giving a direct answer, the oracle broke eyecontact, silently questioning if the crow would believe her if she LIED. If she blatantly deniedย the ache which oftentimes became too OVERWHELMING in order to suppress, evident in the way hands began to quiver while features twisted in dismay, forcing the oracle to take short breaks before continuing with the session. While healing, one could sense the OTHERโ€™Sย hurt, the OTHERโ€™Sย pain, even if hidden and concealed; LIFE was but one excruciating journey for both, and the oracle already hid the fact that the crow would most likely DIE without her mending whatever was damaging infected bodyโ€ฆย 

Maybe her protector DESERVED to know.

DOES IT HURT?ย โ€”Yes

โ€ฆ but itโ€™s worth it.ย 

Image

โ€œIt is but a small price to pay.โ€ย 

Avatar
reblogged
Image

ย  ย  ย allows her feetย to dangle off of the edgeย of the docks, scooting enough that the bareย tips of her toes might dip into the frigid water. itโ€™s late enough in the eveningย that the beach is mostly deserted, and early enough that a little sunย still lingers. she catches their shadowย shifting over the wood and lazily turns her head to look at them.ย  ย โ€œย  ย youโ€™re gonna scare the wrongย person sneakinโ€™ up onย โ€˜em like that oneย day.ย  โ€

โ€œPardon me,โ€ the oracle spoke softly, nimble feet carefully approaching the other. One didnโ€™t even notice the femaleโ€™s presence until she SPOKE, hands gently held up in front of pristine body to prove that one was unarmed. Perhaps not the wisest ofย decisions, but one didnโ€™t wish to confront.ย 

โ€œI was searching for my dog. Perhaps you have seen her?โ€ย 

Avatar

What kind of D&D character are you? Tagged by: @arvious (*smooches*)ย  Tagging: @drgfyre ; @shiverheart ; @imperialmight ; @daemonmade + anyone else!ย 

Image

Lawful Good Half-Elf Cleric (4th Level)

Ability Scores: Strength - 11 Dexterity - 10 Constitution - 12 Intelligence - 17 Wisdom - 14 Charisma - 15

Alignment: Lawful Good - A lawful good character acts as a good person is expected or required to act. He combines a commitment to oppose evil with the discipline to fight relentlessly. He tells the truth, keeps his word, helps those in need, and speaks out against injustice. A lawful good character hates to see the guilty go unpunished. Lawful good is the best alignment you can be because it combines honor and compassion. However, lawful good can be a dangerous alignment when it restricts freedom and criminalizes self-interest. Race: Half-Elves have the curiosity and ambition for their human parent and the refined senses and love of nature of their elven parent, although they are outsiders among both cultures. To humans, half-elves are paler, fairer and smoother-skinned than their human parents, but their actual skin tones and other details vary just as human features do. Half-elves tend to have green, elven eyes. They live to about 180. Class: Clerics - Clerics act as intermediaries between the earthly and the divine (or infernal) worlds. A good cleric helps those in need, while an evil cleric seeks to spread his patron's vision of evil across the world. All clerics can heal wounds and bring people back from the brink of death, and powerful clerics can even raise the dead. Likewise, all clerics have authority over undead creatures, and they can turn away or even destroy these creatures. Clerics are trained in the use of simple weapons, and can use all forms of armor and shields without penalty, since armor does not interfere with the casting of divine spells. In addition to his normal complement of spells, every cleric chooses to focus on two of his deity's domains. These domains grants the cleric special powers, and give him access to spells that he might otherwise never learn. A cleric's Wisdom score should be high, since this determines the maximum spell level that he can cast.

Avatar
@arviousย โ€” plotted starterย 

Tired, WEARY ; a long day of constant travel was coming to an end, oracle and her companion finding shelter in a small hotelroom after finally losing sight of the Empireโ€™s lapdogs. Stolen motorcycle was parked outside, hidden behind some bushes; their location had to remain a secrecy, after all. One was still dressed in the too big trousers ( cursed ring nearly burnedย nestled in the front pocket ) and a simple shirt the crow let her borrow after their first meeting on the train from Insomnia, hair folded into a loose braid, cherished hairpin tucked in between flaxen strands. Own dress got torn when leaving the city, not too mention being far tooย recognizable with its intricate design and silver embellishments; the new clothing, not to mention the hotelroom overall, leaned more towards being simple and quaint. However, the oracle wasnโ€™t one to COMPLAIN, despite desiring otherwise, one had SURVIVED the fall of Insomnia and was now on aย journey unlike anything earlier experienced โ€” A gratifying exchange to life as a hostage ( GLORIFIED PRISONER not even in charge of her own thoughts ) behind closed doors and prying eyes. The only matter now remaining was a set ofย metaphoric chains tightly clasped around slender wrists, A REMINER of a duty more valued than life itself, a mandatory obligation one followed without question, without hesitation... Ah, theย GLAMOROUS life of an oracle and former princess; a forced engagement, a sense of always being chased, slowly being poisoned by other peopleโ€™s ache by absorbing it into own veins, pumping, pumping, pumping into a slowly rotting heart... But oneย always carried the role ofย a symbol of hope and beloved queen of peace for that was what the world needed her to be.ย 

During their journey looking for a place to rest, one had noticed CHANGES in her protectorโ€™s demeanor.ย The crow had stumbled over her own steps, was even more silent then usual, kept her posture strained whileย stoicย beauteous features and auburn eyes became bleached out and turned paler. Due to their lack of combant during the day, a RARITY considering the circumstances, one suspected and HOPED the crow was tired, and didnโ€™t carry some kind of internal damage from earlier battles. Nevertheless, oneโ€™s suspicions leaning towards the latter became confirmed after entering the hotelroom; the oracle was folding her dress and some spare clothes on a small, wodden table when the crow nearly collapsed onto theย rickety bed. Worry constricted the oracleโ€™s throat, nimble feet quickly hurrying to the brave soldierโ€™s side before kneeling down next to her, softlyย inquiring what was wrong. Despite the short timespan the two had known eachother, one had noticed the crowโ€™sย aversion to TOUCH and any form ofย closeness;ย a matter the oracle in this moment chose to utterly ignore for the sake of attemtping to mend whatever was hurting damaged other. Single palm rose to softly press against pale forehead, spell quietly mumbled under the oracleโ€™s breath while trying to figure out what was hurting the other. Something felt wrong, very wrong, a burning sensation clawing through oneโ€™s nerves the moment one initiated touch ( the world brought forth so much pain, here she was trying to make GOLD out of it ), pulsating deeply within the nearly unconscious otherโ€™s core โ€” BUT WHY?ย The other hand rose, palm gently pressing against the crowโ€™s shoulder whileย emitting an ethereal glow.ย 

image

โ€œMiss Altius? I can help you. Please, tell me where it hurts.โ€ย 

Avatar

CHARACTER ย INTERVIEW ย ! repost, ย  ย donโ€™t reblog.

image

NAMEย  :ย  Lunafreya Nox Fleuret.ย  NICKNAME ย :ย  Luna. AGE ย :ย  24. SPECIES ย :ย  Human.

PERSONAL ย !

MORALITY ย :ย  lawful ย / ย  neutral ย  / ย chaotic ย  / ย  good ย  / ย  neutral ย  / ย  evil ย / ย  true. RELIGION ย :ย  Yes.ย  SINSย  :ย ย greed ย  / ย  gluttony ย  / ย  sloth ย  / ย  lust ย  / ย  pride ย  / ย  envy ย  / ย  wrath. VIRTUES ย : ย  chastity ย  / ย  charity ย  / diligence / ย  humility ย  / ย  kindness / ย  patience ย / ย  justice . KNOWN LANGUAGES ย :ย  n/a. SECRETS :ย The cause behind Lunafreyaโ€™s recklessย behavior during Kingsglaive is rooted in the fact that sheโ€™s loosing her desire to live.ย 

PHYSICAL ย  ย !

BUILD ย :ย  ย scrawny ย  / ย  bony ย  / ย  slender ย  / ย  fit ย  / ย  athletic ย  / ย  curvy ย  / ย  herculean ย  / ย  pudgy ย  / ย  average . HEIGHT ย : ย 160 cm without heels, 167 cm with heels.ย  SCARS ย  / ย  BIRTHMARKS ย :ย  Lunafreya has plenty of birthmarks scattered over otherwise rather pristine skin, the most prominent one is possibly the one on her neck, collarbone and the ones on her back. Scars however are more rare, she has a few on her lower back that date back from incidents in her childhood, and during adult life Lunafreya obtains further scars on her wrist, hands, and naturally, one on her stomach caused by Ardynโ€™s knife.ย  ABILITIES ย  / ย  POWERS :ย  Lunafreya has healing abilities, as oracle, she has the ability to heal those affected by the plague and thus preventing the world from being plunged into darkness. She can also commune with the Astrals.ย  RESTRICTIONS ย :ย  With a mindset deeply rooted in duties and obligations, Lunafreya puts other people needs before her own and works tirelessly to help those in need of her assistance. However, whenever she heals someone, she absorbs their hurt and plague into her own body, making her a litteral vessel that harbors the sick, or at least, their sickness. As she gets older, her body gets more and more strained, and the ability to heal others becomes less effective since her nerves canโ€™t take it; she is forced to take breaks in the healing sessions.ย 

FAVORITES ย  ย !

FOOD ย :ย  She has a secret love to pastry.ย  DRINK :ย  Grape juice or lavender tea.ย ย  PIZZA TOPPING ย :ย  No.ย  COLOUR ย : White and blue.ย  MUSIC GENRE ย : ย String music. BOOK GENRE ย :ย  Lunafreya read what was put in front of her.ย  MOVIE GENRE ย :ย  No.ย  SEASON ย :ย  Autumn.ย  CURSE WORD ย :ย  She wouldnโ€™t use any.ย  SCENT ( S ) ย :ย  Floral scents and Crowe.ย 

FUN STUFF ย  ย !

BOTTOM OR TOP ย : ย POWER bottom.ย  SINGS IN THE SHOWER ย :ย  Hum maybe, but not sing.ย  LIKES BAD PUNS ย : She has her moments, but generally, no.ย 

Tagged by: The amazingly wonderful @arvious Tagging: If you see this and want to do it, feel free to say I tagged you!

Avatar

arviousย :

ย  ย  ย  ย โ€“ โ€“ Work, fellow glaives had once said.ย When in doubt, focus on what lays ahead. An endless circle composed out of obligation & the fervent wish to repay the goods one had oh so greedily taken. Back then, when the world had still been easily graspable for someone of the crowโ€™s kind. โ€“ akin to oneโ€™s namesake, petite flutter had led her anywhere. Ever investing, ever watching, ever fighting. With blisters on cracked skin & sparks lingering in raven hair; every strand glued to head & bared shoulders, tongues of tangerine crawling across tanned forearms โ€˜til they would rise. โ€“ training / war. To be good enough, to prove doubted value & feed own pride.ย Oh, diligent work had marked the difference between a soldier & a mere man; now such idle pondering tasted but bittersweet. When fingertips danced across cold steel she hardly felt, black bird could not help but wonder. All one did โ€ฆ in the end, had it been enough? To avert her very own demise, to prosper when own โ€˜FAMILYโ€™ turned their backs?ย 
image
ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  Gripe tensed, held wrench now pressing roughly against heated palm; cue a flutter of long lashes as auburn eyes closed for the sake of a mere second. Perhaps yes, perhaps no. It had been good enough for own personal welfare, had been good enough to buy herself some time, good enough to keep on striving for cherished kingโ€™s sake. && yet brave soldier (WERENโ€™T YOU THE BRAVEST OF THEM ALL?) could sense the poison in fiery veins, eating / gnawing / DEVOURING. โ€“ย 
ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย Softest words, they do but startle.ย 
ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  A shift of attention (longed for & sought); wicked witch casts her glare over leather-clad shoulder whilst sheย listens. Ah, their eyes meet ere a swift sigh falls from chapped lips. Busy hands perform a brisk gesture: a single wave of gripped tool. && still the crow turns but a bit more to abandon jacked up motorcycle for a moment.ย  โ€œ โ€“ where I come from, peopleย โ€˜change gifts when itโ€™s due.ย โ€œ cueย a break. Black bird weights her options; in the end she cannot give a genuine answer, for a glaive earns too little to afford what royal client holds. A single tlt of bent upper body signalizes the end of their oh so STRAINING conversation (EVER SO TACITURN & PRIVATE). โ€“ย  โ€œ canโ€™t this wait, your highness? Kinda busy here. โ€

A pale blue gaze remained focused on the crow as she continued working, silently observing every little move, every twitch, the way attention shifted from the vehicle onto divine other โ€” Harmless INDULGENCE, no? Eyes lit up for a split secondย  ( one didnโ€™t even know why ), heels softly thumping against the ground as curious oracle dared to get just a little bit closer to working other. In contrast to a dull and gray childhood spent the larger part in solitude, thie company of RESERVED crow was a cherished but rather oddย occurrence... How many steps was enough until one got too close? When should one speak and when should one stay silent? Being aroundย ROYALTY, guards, tutors and chaperons were situations well explored, but being around someone close in age, who already broke a barrier by giving her the beloved hairpin, entering untrekked territory. Besides, guards worked in SHIFTS; ever since leaving Insomnia, the crow had stayed by her side, making it feel like their time spent together was almost more than what the oracle spent with her own brother in adult age.ย 

โ€œOf course,โ€ the oracle spoke with a gentle tone in return, carefully considering if she shouldโ€™ve brought the other a gift as well, and if the lack of giftgiving had been seen as a sign of disrespect on the her behalf. An impeccable young lady should RESPECT others customs, after all. Nontheless, their conversation had showed results โ€” One had asked where and instead got a reply to the the why;ย A FORMALITY was the reason behind the giving of the hairpin ( was one expecting something else? ), but a treasured one nontheless, resulting in a beloved belonging not even the EMPIRE would be able to take from her. The subtlest of smiles lingered on the corner of the oracleโ€™s lips even after their gazes broke, another intruding curious step taken towards the other. Instinctively, the oracle leaned down to see what the crow was doing,ย ( now mere inches keeping them apart ), more than close enough to sense the comforting warmth emitting from the otherโ€™s frame.

image

โ€œCan I aid you somehow?โ€ย 

Avatar
reblogged

"Crowe, my love, please do not do this to yourself."

Avatar

ย  ย  ย  ย  โ€“ โ€“ Dear blackbird, dear crow, donโ€™t suffer, donโ€™t follow this (un)holy path;ย one day she wonโ€™t be there to cure the itch. One day she wonโ€™t manage to follow, wonโ€™t manage to reach you in time. One day, one day your skin will turn to ash & your blood will seethe, your lungs will burst & your body collapse. It is the poison within your veins, beware beware! Brave, foolish soldier, how naive you have been! It feasts upon your strength & stamina, sapping you off your magic & consuming, consuming, consumingย โ€˜til self-incineration will no longer vanish without a trace but STAY; leaving scars deeply carved into flesh & splintered bones. But donโ€™t fret,dear crow! Witches are meant to burn.Oh, one does it for the sake of PROTECTION (to be her shield); after all, the empire assaults MERCILESSLY. What can a single glaive do but struggle? What can a single GLAIVE do but engage? Destroy a worthless body for the sake of another.ย 

ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  โ€™heroesโ€™ / FOOLS (?) do it oh so selflessly. โ€“ like he did, perhaps?

Image
ย  ย  ย  ย  ย โ€œ โ€ฆ โ€œ โ€“ it is an attempt to speak; a feckless try to voice felt concern. Yet the witchโ€™s voice is muffled; too dry is her throat, too sore & raw. The crow caws instead; coughs out smoke & bile ere a single shake of her hanging head is given. Exhaustion had long ago claimed oneโ€™s senses, leaving her posture crooked & bent. She leans against a fallen tree, dimmed auburn merely cast to the cold forest floor, as if to idlely observe the steadyย โ€˜drip-dropโ€™ of falling rain. They are sheltered, indeed yet exposed to the biting cold only beloved other could feel. For a second devastated thoughts reel; fingertips itch & yearn for usually swiftly generated heat. To cast a single spark & light up the entire nightsky. To warm the very one now resting next to her with shivering fingers pressed onto a scorched patch of skin.โ€“ย  to heal.ย 

ย  ย  ย  ย  ย Nostrils flare so as to pick up loverโ€™s scent; such an alluring mixture of flowers & something the crow cannot quite grasp, yet tainted by the stench of burnt leather & flesh alike. โ€“ still, it calms her, allows fickle conscience to cling to the very last bits of hardly graspable sanity. Behold, how black birdโ€™s intact hand holds on to her savior; how she breathes oh so heavily. Ah, every fight had started to become harder than the one before, more excruciating, more damaging! It rots away, that once oh so stout physique of hers. It decays & dies with every wound, with every shed of precious blood. โ€“ a sacrifice which a witch ought to commit oh so willingly. What was a sinnerโ€™s life in exchange to a saintโ€™s?

ย  ย  ย  ย  ย Dear songbird, donโ€™t you know? An arsonist loves to indulge in the soothing embrace of cherished flames. โ€“ mayhem is all they seek, remember? Why should a crow be different when all she yearns for is but the sting of seething membrane felt the second a loathed target would BURN? Lit up by destructive tangerine whilst the rush of a blaze would spreadย โ€˜cross feeble bones, permitting the SUN incarnate (rather its disgusting shadow) to feel alive. Cue a smile then, a sadistic grin; hailed by comrades, admired by those deemed superior. โ€“ set yourself on fire for those you have learned to love.ย โ€œโ€“ I have to.โ€

Avatar
You are using an unsupported browser and things might not work as intended. Please make sure you're using the latest version of Chrome, Firefox, Safari, or Edge.