𝖍 .

𝚃𝙾𝚃𝙰𝙻𝙻𝚈 𝙳𝙴𝚅𝙾𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝚃𝙾 𝙼𝚈 𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃. helena bertinelli, hunted by paulina.

[sundaynightfilms]

Le rayon vert, 1986

[bertanelli]

𝒊.     GOTHAM,       KNIGHT.     »     𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐞.

𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎    𝚊     𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕     𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚍     𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚑  ,      [  𝐇𝐄  𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐒  ]      𝒇𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈   into the   IMMATERIAL   black of a horrible  𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍.        EVERY N̲I̲G̲H̲T̲,  WITHOUT REST.       in a city of limbo,    this    𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦  𝘰𝘧  𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘦    is a raveled analysis of   degradation   coalesced under sweltering heatwaves exacerbated by   𝚊   𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛'𝚜   𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜,    &   in thisCELEBRATION  of  debauchery      [ ⁶  MILES  WIDE ]      where  HIGH  SOCIETY  will swap spit with crime for a euphoric high,   𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙     𝚒𝚗     𝚝𝚑𝚎     𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕     𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚏     𝚘𝚏     𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚍    𝚙𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚢     where asphalt is cherry - red,   &hope is pierced on the needlepoint of a cathedral         — ———         𝐓͟𝐇͟𝐈͟𝐒       𝐃͟𝐀͟𝐑͟𝐊       𝐃͟𝐄͟𝐕͟𝐈͟𝐋,    (𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈  𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯)     …     is immersed in the salty dew of the city’s perspiration,    jolted in a ritualistic baptism of a   𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳’𝘴   blood:    𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗡    𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗜𝗡,   from the lingering of a  𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝖼𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌.     EVERY NIGHT,  WITHOUT F͟A͟I͟L.

       𝓲.           𝚃𝙷𝙴   𝙱𝙰𝚃𝙼𝙰𝙽               SMELLS                FEAR                 ABOVE                ALL.                a                 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑              𝗁𝖺𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀.

— ———            [     ❛❛     𝚜𝚒𝚛,               𝚝𝚑𝚎              𝚟𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎              𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜              𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜              𝚝𝚘              𝚋𝚎              𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐              𝚝𝚘              𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎.             ———       (         𝐚            𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭            𝐢𝐧            𝐭𝐡𝐞            𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞,            𝐭𝐡𝐞            𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠            𝐨𝐟            𝐤𝐞𝐲𝐬.       )        𝚒𝚝              𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜              𝚞𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝,              𝚊𝚗𝚍              𝚒              𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎              𝚒              𝚝𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝              𝚢𝚘𝚞              𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛              𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗              𝚝𝚘              𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚙              𝚘𝚞𝚝              𝚘𝚗              𝚊              𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.      𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆   𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒.   ❜❜  ]

THE SCENE IS GORGED       of    𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒊𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒔   horror like a bloated leech,  pregnant with the congested hemoglobin  &  chill of unease as he shrivels into a crackling shadow,     appearing like a bad omen.   his mouth is a pump-action,  ( 𝚊     𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚎     𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 )  cracked along the clear ether with a stringent inquiry:     

       ❛❛         [ … ]        — ———            𝗠𝗬 𝗖𝗜𝗧𝗬 ,    𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘴.        i’ve told you before,   NOW WHAT DO YOU KNOW?        ❟❟

𝙸𝙵  𝙸𝚃  𝚆𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙽'𝚃  𝙵𝙾𝚁  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙶𝙻𝙾𝚆  𝙾𝙵  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙼𝙾𝙾𝙽𝙻𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃    ;     𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙲𝙷𝙸𝙻𝙻  𝙳𝙰𝙼𝙿𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙻𝚈  𝙱𝚁𝙴𝙴𝚉𝙴     . . .     𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻  𝙾𝙵  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙷𝚄𝙽𝚃𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚂  𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳  𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙱𝚄𝚂𝚃  .         a violent inward collapse,       unique implosion of limbs would resound across the cursed city’s corners.          𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒉𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒆,            it combines ever so slightly with an imperciptible nod of her head.          [     his rules      ——       𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐄  𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓  &  𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃.      ]            𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘  hesitates for the totality of a second,         movement of her pupils are translated into an abrasive sentiment.         does  𝗛𝗘  own past the night  ?           past political borders,       into her own grievances  ?         perhaps not.          𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏,    𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒,   𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒,          the knight says his peace in an impossible to mistake voice,         hard swallow turns throat into  𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚙𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛.

❝       an old friend of mine      . . .       𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙣.      ❞          [    FRIEND  !         is that what you call the closest thing to an  angel of death  ?    ]         𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙺𝚂 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝚂𝙿𝙸𝚃𝙴 𝚄𝙿𝙾𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙸𝙼𝙰𝙶𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳,       𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙰𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙾.       𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙰 𝙱𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝚃𝙰𝙻𝙴,       𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙰  𝚆𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴  𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙴𝙻𝙻 𝙸𝚃.            ❝        brother of my father’s,         believed to be  ᵈᵉᵃᵈ  until a few nights ago       ————         he’s up to his neck in  𝙛𝙞𝙡𝙩𝙝.     ❞          «        AND THAT HE WAS  .          𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬,        my hands have turned into a vessel for disgust,       the manifested hatred embedded in the family line.           𝒊 𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒚,        𝒊 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌 𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒚.     »

❝        LISTEN TO ME,        𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐌,         you cannot stop it         ;       and when i do,        𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉  will spill            . . .          but i wouldn’t mind your help,         since we like to call ourselves  coworkers.      ❞

[feral-ballad]

Nadia Tueni, tr. by Kamal Boullata, from Women of the Fertile Crescent: An Anthology of Modern Arabic Poetry by Arab Women

[bertanelli]

A PATH WHERE THE HOPELESS WALK,      WHERE MANY  ‘ALMOSTS’  FOLLOW.       it fails to be the way her pencil drops against the empty sheet of paper beside her coffee,         or the rattling sound of automatic sharpeners     . . .      it’s instead,         how terribly human it is.        𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬,        that’s what pierces through a pair of trained eardrums,           produding a lingering sigh  &  transforming the everyday oxygn into exhaustion.          𝙼𝚄𝙲𝙷 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 𝙰𝙽 𝙴𝙽𝙶𝙸𝙽𝙴,      one’s lifespan is not forever.          in the overbearing fashion of an unexpected embrace,        𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖆  is swallowed by noise of her surroundings,        irregular ensemble of students changing classrooms,          a few short smiles are exchanged while she feasts on served lunch      ——      others fall flat  &  ignored by the masses.         𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚,       takes pride in that,       even.          when the night falls,        her face becomes nothing but a question mark behind the steering wheel     ;     but  here,         𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒙𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒔.     [      ˢ.     :    @snovak​     ]

❝       aren’t you supposed to be in class   ?       ❞          sight barely shifts towards the girl as the woman continues to grade a stack of papers,         𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮,        it isn’t her business     ;     after all,         she is simply a substitute for the month.          [      maternity leave,        they told her.     ]           as sunlight gradually rests on her left hand——       her dominant,          it seems those warm  𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬  were bearing a degree of further curiosity.          she hadn’t seen her before,       the seniors were her responsibility     ;    but nevertheless,          she allows herself to continue  &  almonds finally land on her informal companion.          ❝       𝒊'𝒎 𝒏𝒐 𝒔𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒉,      but i wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.       ❞

[macherieamourr]

[bertanelli]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑  𝐎𝐍𝐄   (  𝟏 . )      ↬     ONE’S PEROGATIVE ,

YOU’LL  FIND  A  BAT    [   @gothmite​   ]    &  a nun.       a nun devoted to one cause  &  one cause only    ;    pre-destined revenge.          bloodbath may come shrieking under the night of the guilty,          foreordained consequence for a wretched path chosen by carbon figures,            those who chose wrong.          𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃  𝚂𝙺𝚈  𝙾𝙵  𝙶𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙰𝙼,         restless from conception  &  under the stars and their promising twinkle that’s so peculiar to the human eye      . . .      yet,     she stands tall,         𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞.          twenty minutes turn to an hour,         woman knows because of the noise of clock hands in her wrist.          𝗕𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗗 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗣𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘,          she awaits for his arrival      ——      serene  &  intriguing,       all while enclosing a level of uneasiness.        lustre of her presence could  𝖇𝖊𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍  a casual espectator if they failed to look wher they were going     ;     or miss a step  !

 «     CHEST  RISES  UP  AND  DOWN,     THE  𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙽𝚃  OF  HER  CURRENT  TEMPERAMENT  SPEAKING  TRUTH     ;     𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘  AWAITING.   »

IL  CAVALIERE  DELLA  NOTTE      (    ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʳᵏ ᵏⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ .  )        a telling breeze dances among the darkness of her hair,         it lets her know.         even the smell of her surroundings shift in  eloquence.         𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔,       just as the shadow takes its sweet time to overtake her personal space.          𝙳𝚁𝙰𝙶𝙶𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙻𝚄𝙼𝙿  𝙸𝙽  𝙷𝙴𝚁  𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙾𝙰𝚃,          subtle echoes in the depths of her ribcage emerge,        rough at first,        but her stinging larynx sets free,         𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜.

❝       you’re late         ————————        i was just about to get going       . . .        i have  𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐  to share,         some information.           but i’ll have  you  know——            𝐢'𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.       just thought i’d keep it straight.      ❞

[bertanelli]

helena being the last of a /whole family/ is Very Powerful to me .

[bertanelli]

Ｌ Ｏ Ｃ Ａ Ｔ Ｉ Ｏ Ｎ  ：     a gotham pub,      cranky,    old.    dirty.

ONE  SINGULAR  KILL  LIST,         old  &  brown,       burnt on the edges.      particularly ragged tea stained sheet of paper has withstood the cruel ticking of time,         it becomes crumpled by the sweat on the woman’s palms  &  fingertips.        tick  —  tock,      𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘.        [     trash  doesn’t become  trash  by itself.     ]          a result from reviewing one’s ghost of past,         reflection of wrongdoings  &  actions of possible malpractice,        she sees into what  𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒓𝒖𝒕  she has sunk.       the worst of doing a self-proclaimed  𝙳𝚄𝚃𝚈  is that it’s likely to unfit you for anything else,       OR SO THEY SAY.          a moment of regret ensues,        closed eyelids tight as the irony of a wake up call flows naturally throughout her being.          once rotten,       the blood of   𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖗𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖘   still runs through her veins.         somewhat turn sheet of paper is extended in a meticulous motion,         names comprehensive once again,       clear as they could be.        crippling,     bubbling,      rage.        THE CHOSEN PATH,        they call it.        no going back from it.

❝       𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑳𝑬𝒀     . . .    QUINN .       ❞       intonation falls with the end of the sentence,         throat harbors sandpaper sensation.          not  complete  strangers,       but how acquainted,      truly ?          after all,        syllables are familiar even dropping from the curves of her mouth.           𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆,        as nothing but a tell-tale in her part.           now,      a certain tint of caution sprayed in the tip of her tongue.      CHEST RISES,         breath profound     ——      rigorous.          demeanor calm as waves in rest     ;     she has the advantage of being a figure of darkness,      a mask.     /     »    @jestaid​    ! 

an effort is done to fold the piece of paper,        it has become jagged  &  irregular on the corners.        𝖆𝖑𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖉 𝖊𝖞𝖊𝖘,       they turn to study her companion’s.           ❝       i must be out of my damn mind to ask you for a favor.       ❞         WHAT’S LIFE WITHOUT A LITTLE RISK  ?           silently,        the woman’s cursing the time she agreed to come back to gotham   !          ❝       tell me.        do you like teammork,        𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒏𝒏   ?       ❞

[bertanelli]

                     life  is  𝖇𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖎𝖋𝖚𝖑      . . .      death  is  𝖚𝖌𝖑𝖞 .                                                                                          ʰᵘⁿᵗᵉᵈ  ᵇʸ  ᵖᵃᵘˡⁱⁿᵃ  .

[bertanelli]

the “shoot first, ask questions later” is such a prevalent & almost autopilot state of mind for helena  ;  and as it’s expected, it has become somewhat of a double edged sword. she is aware this approach can be fatal and even turn deadly when she doesn’t meant to, but a lifetime of distrust & cynicism has left her no choice.

[dickgraysqns]

“and why would we help you?”

“because i came here ready to bribe you, blackmail you, or kill you. i’ll let you choose which.”

helena bertinelli in grayson

[adrasteiax]

(…) she won’t experience the sea as evil. To her, it is what it is: where it touches land, it must turn to violence.

Louise Glück, from Saints in “Poems 1962-2012″ (via adrasteiax)

[bertanelli]

helena has killed accidentally .

[bertanelli]

santa helena .

[jamsmemes]

(     *     MINDHUNTER PROMPTS   !    

episode 10.   trigger warning for murder.

❛  i like things a little more laid back, you know.  ❜

❛  the bloom of youth has faded.  ❜

❛  i will take full responsibility for what happens in there.  ❜

❛  listen, you’re a good-looking guy.  ❜

❛  there was a lot of blood at the crime scene.  ❜

❛  blood sprays everywhere, like a fine mist.  ❜

❛  when was the last time you cleaned your ears?  ❜

❛  when we accuse somebody of murder, if they haven’t done it, they won’t shut up.  ❜

❛  i would completely fall apart.  ❜

❛  that is what made it a nail-biter.  ❜

❛  is it a fair experiment if you’re working backward from a conclusion?  ❜

❛  please stop analysing me.  ❜

❛  maybe i don’t always want to hear your opinion.  ❜

❛  you cannot be proud of this.  ❜

❛  if you don’t see how this situation compromises us, then i don’t know what to say.  ❜

❛  i have as long as it takes to finish this sandwich.  ❜

❛  honey, we don’t kill criminals. they kill themselves.  ❜

❛  come on. you’re smarter than that.  ❜

❛  these past couple days, i keep thinking about when we met.  ❜

❛  you’re so good at reading people… you tell me.  ❜

❛  i made the decision on my own.  ❜

❛  i looked at him. i asked him to lie with my eyes.  ❜

❛  you’re developing a pattern of behaviour that will not sustain you.  ❜

❛  you’re playing us off each other.  ❜

❛  if you leave, i can’t help you.  ❜

❛  you’re making a terrible mistake.  ❜

❛  the only mistake i made was ever doubting myself.  ❜

❛  i told them the truth.  ❜

❛  i tried less dramatic methods.  ❜

❛  and yet, our work is unfinished.  ❜

❛  i believe you owe me an explanation.  ❜

❛  human blood is very hot. on a cold, humid morning you can see it steam.  ❜

❛  is this what you wanted to see?  ❜

❛  why would i want to see that?  ❜

❛  take a closer look.  ❜

❛  my whole life, no one wanted to interact with me.  ❜

❛  i could kill you now, pretty easily.  ❜

❛  i can’t breathe. i can’t breathe.  ❜

[wondergirl]

helena bertinelli in huntress: year one #3