she looks at herself in the mirror, the black dye on her hair starts to fade, she sees her origin. grey eyes, like brewing storm, stare back at her then to the blood smeared on her cheeks. it was still warm, a fresh kill. it happened quickly, her dagger slashing flesh and she watched his blood trickled from his neck. she can still hear his voice, how his last word was the name of the person she claims to be, ‘ miyoung ’ it was like a plead, one more prayer before his life ended before her, because of her. there is no denial in what happened, she killed one of her own for another and she feels no remorse. when the others ran away, she wanted to go after them, she wanted to kill again, but he stopped her. ‘ don’t .’ christian’s hand was rough against her, opposite to the softness of his voice. there is blood on her face, his, and because it’s her. she let them hurt him for her, but never again. she thinks of what keeps on holding her back, she looks again in the mirror. her hair as black as midnight, an erasure of her origin, of what she’s supposed to be. an identity she made to mask the truth, the truth she keeps on a blind eye, now crumbling before her. this is what she can do, what more can she do for herself, for christian. her fingers are stained with blood, hers, christian’s, theirs. she washes it off, the water is red, like her rage, rage she kept for so long. she has always been kind, kindness that lead her to tragedy, tragedy that she will face with cruelty. this is what her mother wanted her to be, like her, a god with no mercy. now, she can be. her necklace feels light around her neck, no longer suffocating her. was she supposed to be grateful to its giver? is this what he wanted to see? a beauty, now embedded with cruelty? she washes her the blood from her cheeks, this will not be the last. she is now clean, thoughts are crystal clear. she looks at herself in the mirror, she still looks like her lies. her dagger lies in the countertop, it can work, for now. she parts her hair, one hand holds her lies, the other holds the truth. the dagger passed smoothly through her hair, now, they no longer rest on her shoulders. soon, her hair will be blonde again. next time, she’ll have it cut properly, then she’ll be perfect. the neoteric god: beautiful, powerful and violent. and she will be the only one, she will no longer be an afterimage.
in her current arc, i will be focusing on rose’s self as a god. when i started writing rose, i have always focused on her humanity, her mortal self. but with the plot i have for her, change will be inevitable. from a girl who wouldn’t hurt a fly to a woman who will kill with no remorse. my npcs like hamato saito and christian zhou will be present (i will introduce them properly soon!). for now, this marks the beginning of rose as the neoteric god.