[hierdead]

haven’t  finished  nevaeh’s  bio  but  here  are  some  key  points :

*  she  is  originally  from  moscow ,  russia. *  her  father  is  a  general  for  the  russian  military.  after  finding  out  that  his  daughter  was  not  entirely  human ,  she  was  forced  to  receive  military  grade  combat  training  to  protect  herself  from  monsters  as  well  as  other  demi-gods.  if  she  had  not  received  various  recommendations  to  attend  camp  jupiter ,  she  would  have  stayed  in  moscow  and  became  a  weapon  of  military  forces. * her  weapon  of  choice ,  ideally ,  is  a  gun ,  but  since  going  to  camp  jupiter  has  taken  an  interest  to  daggers. * she  lives  and  eventually  will  die  for  her  father’s  approval. *  clinical  and  calculated ,  18  years  of  age ,  a  daughter  of  venus.

[hierdead]

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[thorrn]

born to die — lana del rey

[hierdead]

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[hierdead]

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[anecdotesofasurvivor]

[hierdead]

sunbruise.

reyna was staring at him.   he beat his foot gently against the marble floor,   and returned her quiet stare with a tilt of his head.     she simply held out her palm,    gestured to the girl and said,     nevaeh ivanov.    his neck was metallic as it snapped,   odd-eyed scowl shredding the image of the girl to ribbons.    before the queen muttered more,   he said,        ❛❛         venus,    yes.           ❜❜      the dark hair,    dark eyes,    cold-cut edge said enough.   kahale’s sibling.   he would know them a mile away.    the thing of metal sitting in his chest shuttered in mild annoyance,    but the coat of something far darker than the sun was a larger beast over his face.      ❛❛         you ought to chuck this one to kahale,   no?          ❜❜       he looked back to the praetor,    and a wordless conversation resumed until her shoulders bristled,    nothing more than a shrug in return.     splendid.     he didn’t watch for her as she strode away,   but pinched the collar of his black tunic,    eyes twisting back to the girl.     they settled a while over her hand.    a beat,    and he could have sworn he smelt guns,   even as his voice drawled out in a soft whisper.         ❛❛       tell me,    where is your cohort?         ❜❜

gunpowder shivers, erupts ! ! in ensuing slight jocularity, and again does she glance downwards, ruby - eyne (  happily dyed in blood, in spire of amaranth and ill - earned liquor  ) glancing o'er docile gaze before flickering upward—- she sneers with a practiced ease, juvenile sooth pressing red coals 'pon ophidian appendage. ❛❛   you’re head or leader of the first cohort.   ❜❜ (  beyond the ceiling, there are no stars to be seen ; the heavens rest tonight. fucking pathetic.  ) a subtle malevolence to the tilt heavenward of simpering smirk, she titters in dulcet cadence, capriccio fluttering ‘pon nightingale’s plumage a sprawl of cochineal tulle ; grinning, she shoves her hands into her pockets,, spine curved o'er its frame. hands of a god : invoking of divinity heinous in monolith of greedy primordiality, ( paradigm of mammon seething within dissonant lachrymosity ) / tragedy of the endless : eve + the serpent + the apple + the man whose name was into the bathyal ravine of dearest babylon devoured, folly of mankind pinned to arachnid tapestry in jeering repose of he who took the apple and choked ‘pon its bloody lustre ! lackadaisical hilarity threatens nefarious dynamic o'er features lit in sunshine - saffron, (  soleil conquest, mistral - born miserere split in supernovan resplendence and a vile gaiety ! doctrinal sadism pours into bone - forge chalice amber wine, absinthe a bittersweet nuance ‘pon liquored loathing !  ) witchcraft (  a hissing mystique, roused from ruinous salem! the new prophecy : fabled cataclysm of days long past  ) bubbling o'er cauldron’s rim, a bathetic temperance oozing essence of wisteria to vascular erraticism. ❛❛   shouldn’t you know ?   ❜❜

[hierdead]

switcblade.

he  breaks  the  water  surface , lungs  caught  in  thick  water - tension  as  he  gasps  for  a  sharp  breath . fingers  had  long  uncurled  around  the  girl’s  collar , &  he’d  tasted  the  dark  river - water , its  murky  bite  of  water - sogged  mud  &  moss - ridden  hue  flooding  harsh  past  his  mouth . &  of  course , it  was  merely  a  means  of  distraction , to  steer  away  his  blood - frenzied  assailant  that  had  been  too  eager  to  find  his  skull  crushed  against  the  stones . a  hell  of  a  luck  this  was .— he’d  not  yet  lost  her . a  stubborn  she - serpent , she’d  slithered  her  way  through  the  currents , as  if  to  trace  him  by  the  scent  of  bright - blood , maintaining  that  prize - worthy  grin  that  curled  wickedly  over  her  lips . ❝ —we meet  again . &  you  still haven’t  answered  my  question . ❞   he  chokes  the  words  out  through  a  splutter  of  water   ,  finding  purchase  against  the  pebble - rinded  river  bank .  he  would  not  run ,  but  rather , slowed  his  way  across  the  slab  of  rock  to  wring  the  river - water  out  of  his  clothes . go  ahead , strike  me . she’d  not  intended  for  murder . yet . had  she  wished  to , she’d  have  pounced  upon  the  tender  veins  of  his  neck  a  long  time  before . beneath  the  dampened hair , his  eyes  focus  carefully  on  her , the  emerging  water - sleek  figure  that  seemed  to  approach  him  in  equally  steadied  pace . the  pistol lodged  by  the  belt  of  his  waist  seemed  to  be  a  better  option  now , rather  than  a  closed - combat  wrestle  for  dominance . wiping  a  smear  of  blood  past  his  nose , he  lifts  his  gaze  , scoffing  quietly . ❝ or  are  you  set  on  playing  your  guessing  games ? — unfortunately , i’m  quite  terrible  with  guessing . especially  with  who  wants  me  dead . ❞

❛❛    i had  not  intended  to  kill   you.     ❜❜  but  that   is   what   she   loves   the   most  :   to   make   people   hurt,   to   make   them   cower.   indeed,   a   distinct   pleasure   for   causing   misery   had   dwelled   deep   inside   her,   and   her   family,   for   centuries  – a   blossoming   of   warmth  ;   now,   in   retrospect,   strikingly   similar   to   the   flames   that   had   dwelled   within   her   chest   and   taken   her   apart   as   she   ran   and   hid   and   left   her   to   burn  ;   to   disintegrate   into   ash   and   to   be   reborn   into   her   own   vile   hades.   ❛❛        at   least   not   yet,   anyway .          ❜❜   knuckles   rake   'cross   shut   eyelids, pitch   lashes   fanned   over   her   cheeks   and   bespeaking   of   metallic   coldness   otherwise   unknown   to   revolutionary   paragon.   lips   bleed   rancid   ovation   to   insurgence   bloody   ;   she’s   tempted   to   laugh   again   but   instead   smirks   and   thus   exudes   languor,   prior   rancor    painted   stolid   and   tucked   underneath   the   creases   of   her   smile. ❛❛     someone   had   told   me   i   should   be   scared   of   you.   that   you   were   dangerous.   menacing   even.    ❜❜ she   walks   like   death,   footfall   silent   yet   tainted   by   a   hellish   resolve   too   balanced   and   forming   too   inexorable   a   gait   to   be   named   a   stroll   or   even   a   saunter.   to   fear   she   has   not   yet   succumbed   (   a   challenge   she   will   undoubtedly   pose   –   there   is   little   to   be   feared   by   those   who   have   gazed   through   the   veil   and   dared   look   back,   and   the   dead   will   not   die   again   ) ,   yet   still   there   flares   warmth   in   the   frigid   hollows   of   her   chest   as   she   observes   him   sitting   ;   grotesqueries   besought   kith   in   black   -   marbled   antechamber   of   mephistopheles,   guile   an   endowment   'pon   breast   pinned   in   ruby   -   eye   of   ichor   -   spill   -  at   her   side   :   coddled   at   veiled   cusp   of   asphodel’s   fields.   ❛❛    they  were   sorely   mistaken.     ❜❜

[hierdead]

switcblade.

❝ — the  fuck  should  i  know . ❞  it’s  almost  a  banter - like  hit  to  the  shoulder , & he  sorts  through  the  faces  &  names  of  the  past  deceased , the  ones  he’d  tarnished  his  hands  with  blood , & the  relatives , lovers , acquaintances  of  each . but  her , she  was  not  a  recognized  face , a  ghostwalker  among  the  murdered . ❝ that’s  a lot  of  fucking  people . i  tend  to  collect  enemies  wherever i  go  . ❞   her  laughter  is  a  silver - bell , a  derisory  chime  of  a  song - bird , a  kind   that  makes  him  want  to  tear  the  sound  out  through  her  throat . he’d  been  used  to  glaring  death  through  its  red , volatile  eyes ,looked  past  the  edge  without  flinching , but  he’d  never  quite  found  pleasure  through  the  process  of  it . past  the  corners  of  his  eyes , he  spots  the  reflection  of  the  moon - light  against  the  rippling  river - tides , catches  sight  of  the  docks , the  steel - rust , the  perilous  instability  it  would  hold  beneath  two  bodies . one  step  taken  back  , he  tests  the  silent  creak  of  the  docks , gauges  the  depth  of  the  river with  a  stern  flick  of  his  gaze .  ❝ you  like  swimming ?  ❞ he  asks , breathless &  sharp , before  seizing  the  collar  around  her  neck  & yanking  her  forward , plummeting  down  against  the  cold - rush  of  the  water .

humming,   his   digits   rest   ‘pon    her    collar,    locked   in   cataclysmic   grip,   dark   and   dire   eyre   shackled   to   doe   -   eyed   gaze,   lily   -   complexion  ;   she   offers   no   his   delight   in   tribute   as   they   hit   the   water,   interest   never   straying   from   her   companion,   her   prey.   call   her   trickster,   maneater   !   but   never   corrupt.   not   yet.   just   wants   to   have   a   little   fun.   she   is   worthy   of   her   crown   and   curse,   ouroboros   choked   on   its   own   poisoned   self   writhing   in   her   throat.   viscera   drowned   in   vivacity   sows   within   sinews   strung   taut   in   song   of   lyre   (   her   herald   :   discord   of   armageddon,   mistrals’   miserere   stained   in   eldritch   premonition   of   death’s   valley.   descry   beyond   tedious   nevermore   a   fluttering   of   roused   behemoth,   terror   tawdry   in   ichor   -   slicked   augury   !   this   is   what   fear   is.   )   nuance   hitherto   absent   within   :   a   firecracker   on   her   tongue,   cloy   depraved   /   debased   in   iridescent   curl   of   thorn   -    thick   fear.   she   moves   without   pause,   without   hesistation,  (   eager   to   run,   swim   even.   to   have   a   little   more   fun.   to   chase   her   prey.   )   arms   already   beginning   to   stroke   (   out   of   adoration   :   the   thrill   of   the   hunt,   the   carnage   +   crucifixion   a   holy   thing in   façade   of   gilded   penance.   )   hubris   swells   in   shipwrecked   (   the   currents   will   swallow   all   who   dare   venture   downward   without   boon   of   litany  —-   few   are   drowned   in   ophelia’s   plight,   babylon   the   great’s   womb   veiled   in   trench’s   tenebrae.   did   cur   filled   beast   -   queen   not   rise   from   this   river   ?   )   ribs   and   even   curves   her   languid   spine,   lackadaisical   demeanor   warranting   of   hatred,   of   rage,   yet   doled   in   great   swathes   of   sable   honey.   and   again,   she   titters.  

[hierdead]

marred   features   graced   with   a   disappointed   pout   –   in   lieu   of   the   festering   leer   that   commonly   crawls   ‘cross   her   face,   she   sighs,   feeling   compelled   to   face   him,   talk   to   him,   offer   the   slightest   semblance   of   what   seems   to   be   interest.   when   she   refuses   to   respond   (   insolent   thing   ;   it   is   fortunate   that   she   considers   the   disobedient,   and   the   curious,   a   mere   challenge   to   be   crushed   underfoot   !   )   it   is   a   low   whine   that   tears   from   her   throat,   (   the   sound   now   similar   to   that   of   a   feral   dogs’s   !   )   as   she   leans   forward, clicks  closer   and   closer   towards   him,   her   sly   fingers   grazing   the   blade   (   she   wishes   crimson   ink   to   flow   from   him   in   intricacies   akin   to   blood   )   —-   with   a   click   of   the   tongue,   girl   who   becoming   is   summoned   to   retrieve   the   latter   ;   regarding   the   former,   only   baring   her   teeth   in   a   jeering   smirk.   impatience   lurks   within   dulled   simper,   lending   her   voice   a  sense   of   malice   that   resonates   between   the   two   of   them.   ❛   now   where’s   the   fun   in   that  ?   more   fun   to   keep   you   on   edge.   ❜

i.   prompt  /  nikleus  :  ❛ watch   where   you   point   that   thing. ❜

[hierdead]

someone    please   give   me   pjo    original   character   ideas    !

[vaememes]

               WEAPON  BASED  SENTENCE   PROMPTS  .

            A VARIETY & MIXTURE OF USE OF WEAPONS PROMPTS,   TRIGGERS MAY APPLY; BLOOD, WEAPONRY, ETC.                 CHANGE PRONOUNS AS NEEDED / FITTING .

  i.       knives.

❛     is   that   a   knife   behind   your   back?     ❜

❛     how   many  knives  do   you   own?    ❜

❛     i’m   not   interested   in   seeing   your   knife   collection.     ❜

❛     do  you  ever   not   want   to   stab   someone?    ❜

❛     you  stabbed  me!    ❜

❛     it’s   the   biggest   knife   i   found  in   the   kitchen.      ❜

❛     don’t   stab   me!    ❜

❛     why   do   you   have  so   many   knives?     ❜

❛     i’ve  got   a   knife   collection.     ❜

❛     my   knife   is   bigger   than   yours.      ❜

❛     why   are   you   holding   a   knife–   a  bloody   knife  ..      ❜

❛     does  that  knife   have  blood  on   it?    ❜

❛     why  would  you  give  me   your   knife?   ❜

❛     that’s   a   pretty   cool   knife,   where’d   you   get   it?    ❜

❛     you  went  a   little   stab   crazy.   ❜

❛     did   you   hear   about   that   stabbing?   ❜

❛     you   tried   to   stab  me!    ❜

❛     you  threatened   to   stab   me!   ❜

  ii.       guns.

❛     hey,   that’s   not   a   toy,   put   it   down.     ❜

❛     where   did   you   get   all   these   guns?    ❜

❛     i   don’t   know   how   to   use   one   of   these   things.     ❜

❛     i’m   not   sure   if   having   a   gun   is   a   good   idea.    ❜

❛     don’t   point   that   thing   at    me!    ❜

❛     you  point   that   thing   at   me   you   better   pull   the   trigger.      ❜

❛     don’t   shoot!    ❜

❛     what’s   the  gun   for?     ❜

❛     you   with   a   gun   is   a   dangerous   thing.     ❜

❛     maybe   you   can   teach   me   to   shoot.      ❜

❛     can   you   teach  me   how   to   shoot?      ❜

❛     is   the   safety   on   that   thing?    ❜

❛     who   shot   you?   ❜

❛     watch   where   you   point   that   thing.      ❜

❛     you   almost   shot   me!   ❜

❛     did   you   hear   about   that   shooting?   ❜

❛     you've   been   shot!    ❜

❛     you  shot   someone!   ❜

  iii.       swords.

❛      you   really   don’t   want   to   dual   me.     ❜

❛      you’re   pretty   good   with   a   sword.      ❜

❛     you’re  the  best   swordsman/woman  i   know.     ❜

❛     why   is   there   a   sword   on   your   wall?   ❜

❛     where’s   my   sword!    ❜

❛     i  thought  you   had   the   sword.      ❜

❛     put  the  sword   down!    ❜

❛     dare  to  dual?     ❜

❛     this   is   the   last   sword   fight   you’ll   ever   have.     ❜

❛     i’m  in   need  of   a  sword.      ❜

❛     can   you   teach  me   how   to   use   a  sword?      ❜

❛     is  this  how   you   hold   it?    ❜

❛     you  use   my   own  sword  against  me?   ❜

❛     that   isn’t   how   to   hold   it   right.      ❜

❛     give   me   your   sword!   ❜

❛     you   really   want   a   sword?   ❜

❛     what   are  you   doing   with   a   sword?    ❜

❛     where’d   you   learn   to   use   a   sword?     ❜

  iv.       axes.

❛      why  do   you   always   carry   around   an   ax?     ❜

❛      what’s  with  the  ax?      ❜

❛      i’ve   got   an   ax   and   i’m   not   afraid   to   use   it.     ❜

❛      i   thought   axes   were   for   chopping   wood.     ❜

❛      this   ax   here,   it   chops  more  than   wood.    ❜

❛      i   need   to   use   the   ax   for   something.       ❜

❛      where  the   hell   is   my   ax?    ❜

❛     what  are  you   doing  with   that   ax?     ❜

❛     the  ax   is   missing.     ❜

❛     guess   i’ll   need  a   new   ax.      ❜

❛     who   keeps   an   ax   in   the   city?      ❜

❛     does  that  ax  have  blood  on   it?    ❜

❛     what’s   with   the   ax?   ❜

❛     please   help  me!   someone   is   chasing   me   with   an   ax.      ❜

❛     drop  the  ax!   ❜

❛     are  you  going  to  hurt  someone  with  that  ax?   ❜

❛     funny  thing,  ax  is  gone.   just  vanished.    ❜

❛     did  you  take  my  ax?     ❜

  v.       whips.

❛      you   really   are   amazing  with  that  whip.     ❜

❛      do   you   even   know   how   to   use   a   whip?      ❜

❛      who   knew   you   having   a   whip   as   a   weapon   would   be   attractive.     ❜

❛      pretty   quick   with   that   whip   there.     ❜

❛      careful,  he/she/they   have   a   whip!    ❜

❛      i   only   saw   the   whip,   not   the   person   handling   it.      ❜

❛      put  the  whip  down!    ❜

❛     what  is   that,  a  whip?     ❜

❛     your  whip  excites  me.     ❜

❛     i  didn’t  know  you  could  use  a  whip.      ❜

❛     can   you   teach  me   how   to   use   a  whip?      ❜

❛     how  do  i  use  this  thing?    ❜

❛     you  use   my   own  whip  against  me?   ❜

❛     i’ve  come  to  retrieve  my  whip.     ❜

❛     give   me   your   whip!   ❜

❛     you   have  my  whip?   ❜

❛     what   are  you   doing   with   a   whip?    ❜

 vi.       bows.

❛     you   are   pretty   good   with   that   bow   and   arrow.     ❜

❛      you  know  how  to  use  a  bow  and  arrow?     ❜

❛      they   took   my   bow,   i’m   going   to   get   it   back.    ❜

❛      i   didn’t   know   you   could   use   a   bow   and   arrow.   ❜

❛     careful, he/she/they   have   a   bow  and  arrow!   ❜

❛      you  almost  shot  me  with  an  arrow!      ❜

❛     you  shot  me  in  the  butt   with  an   arrow!    ❜

❛     where’s  my  bow?     ❜

❛     just  know,  i  never  miss.    ❜

❛     i  can  teach  you  how  to  use  it,  if  you  want.      ❜

❛     how  do  you  even  put  the  arrow  in  this  thing?     ❜

❛     what’s  with  the  bow  and  arrow?    ❜

❛     you  use   my   own  bow  against  me?   ❜

❛     i’ve  come  to  bow  back.   ❜

❛     give   me   your   bow  and  arrow!   quickly!    ❜

❛     you   have  my   bow?   ❜

❛     what   are  you   doing   with   my  bow?   ❜

vii.       improvised.

❛     hey,  watch  where  you’re  swinging  that  bat.     ❜

❛      will   stop   throwing   your   hairsprays   and   perfumes   at   me?     ❜

❛     practicing  for  baseball  or  something  else?  ❜

❛      this  isn’t  just  any  nail  filer,  it’s  got  a  mean  blade  within.  ❜

❛     you  through  a  blender  at  me!   ❜

❛     i   will   spray   in   the   eyes   with   my   perfume   if   come   any   closer.    ❜

❛     i  can  nearly  slit  your   throat  with   my   finger  nail!    ❜

❛     what  are  you  going  to  do  with  that  brush,  give  me  a  make  over?     ❜

❛     i  wouldn’t  apply  that  lipstick  if  i  were  you,  it’s  not  really  lipstick.   ❜

❛     run!   she/he/they   has   a  bat!      ❜

❛     you   couldn’t   have   grabbed   something  better   than   that?   ❜

❛     you   sprayed  me  in  the   eye  with  pepper  spray!    ❜

❛     anything  can  be  turned  into  a  weapon.   ❜

❛     i  don’t  just  wear  my  stiletto’s,  they  are  more  handy  than  you  think.  ❜

❛     is  that  a  pencil  with  a  blade?    ❜

❛     you   knocked  me  out  with  a  can  of  soup.   ❜

❛     trust  me,  i  can  use  anything  to  my  defense.   ❜

[tojoy]

[hierdead]

       maetamorfosi.

the  shadows  are  a  malleable  thing.   when gazing upon the shadows,   the brain imagines shapes   &   forms that the shadows could take.   it’s something often fueled by the overwhelming feelings of worriment,   when  the primal instinct of fear takes hold.   it hits you the most when you’ve sudden become aware that you’re not alone,   &   something from the   depths  of  the  darkness   is watching your every move.   for a progeny,   a child born half-darkness   /   half-human,   the shadow at the core of their being is malleable too.   &   once the child of erebus,   primordial  god  of  darkness,   made friends with those shape shifting shadows,   they came to realized the source of their latent capabilities.

      one of those capabilities?  shape-shifting.  their bouts of metamorphosis are controlled shifts of the imagination.   think,   &   let the image move you,   shape  you,   into your desired form.   it’s as simple as riding a bike,   the shadow would echo.   but,   even riding a bike takes considerable effort,   continuous trial   &   error.   they had to foster what they were capable of   all  on  their  own,   guided by their own stubborn will.    temperamental thing,   it is.   unlike the others,   other children of gods,   they were thrown into the midst of the concrete jungle to fend for themself.   remember  that  malleability?   they’ve been transformed by the hands of indifference,   warmed by the flames of choler.  

     in the presence of company,   another  heir  to  another  god,   they have a tendency to show off.    nox   &   neveah come from different places,   nurtured by different forces.    they were never one to turn down one-upping a camp half-blood descendant.   in nox’s current form,   their physiology was that of an animal.   a dog,   but appearing as though it had been   molded  from  someone’s  nightmare;   feral,   almost.   sharp canines flashes as though they were smiling at venus’s progeny,   a smile that only helped sell the unruly illusion nox has presented.   down,  cujo.

      with a stretch   &   a howl,   for good measure,   the beast began to transform.    limbs attenuate,   shadows molding,   shifting biology until something human stood in their place.   luckily  for  them,  they’ve found a trick of being able to reform   &   still keep their clothes on.   an exaggerated gasp emits from them,   a chuckle rolling from the midst of their chest as they turn to the navaeh.   ❛❛   ta-da!    bet you they don’t teach you   that   at camp.   ❜❜

❝     let’s      not    play    this    game,    alright    ?      ❞     affable        with        aeon        crows        vile       cleft,        amity        ran        from        ear        to        ear.       ❝      cause      i’ll      win.     ❞

lupine      with       loche       (all      stories      are      about      wolves      :      hunters,      woe      -      wild,      clothed      rosen      at      gape      of      savage      maw)      spanssaunter      diaphanous      jaunt,      anguish      worn      lurid      (blood      -      radiant      /      halo,      dross      -      adorned,      bathe      to      grit       tulle       lustre       of       blade       to       bared       flesh)       at       gored       belly       scant       with       puerile       whimsy       as       she       sees       them,       her       thoughts       cradle       vicious       with       flail       of       wan       superbia.      to       say       the       least,       shapeshifting       was       not       her       area       of       expertise.       but        something       takes        her        heart        in        its        vile        claw        –        something        dark,        vicious        –        and        grips        !!        it’s        them.        ——        galvanised,        she        snarls,        can        sense        that        they        are        like        her.       but        that        is        irrelevant.

ah,       they       offer       charity              swells       her        heart,       curves       skyward       her        lips,        looses        twitching        fingers        from        shackles’        scathe       !       candid stretches        the        smile        upon        marred        visage,        blossoming        adulation        thus        overwhelming        in        spate        corrosion       hitherto        etched        ‘pon        rosen        lips.        charity’s        deluge        is        of        virtue,        as        is        she        by        extension,        prior        claims        (howling        !        oozing        melancholia        dipped        in        soured        saccharide        !!        true        pain        lies        in        guilt        and        the        knowledge        of        treason        well        relished)        of        depravity,        tenebrae,        laid        to        rest        at        her        who        heralds        the        vile        and        the        violated.        languid        fingers        retrieve        from        sable        crown        which        currently        sits        upon        their        head        (of        obsidian        :        no        gold,        no        quartz,        but        shade        !)        affirming        in        silence        their        presence        (do        you        dare        trick        the        trickster        ?        poison        the        snake        ?)        before        casting        downwards        a        grin,        lyre’s        song        thrumming        beyond        acerose        teeth. ❝     ———       no,      i    didn’t    learn    that    at    camp      but    i      did       learn    this.     ❞

thus    rouses    the    beast,    malaise    fermented    (all    absinthian    levity    and    bittersweet    bones.    her    eyes,    her    scaffold,    faustian    and    furious,    wraiths    roped    into    deathly    skein    and    entwined    into    bird    bones)    in    starving    belly    surging,    spewing,    disfigured    elation    from    necrotic    sheath    !    digits    (bloody    and    filthy,    smattered    in    blest    doomsaying,    flesh    rotted    over    bound    ligature    and    bruises    palpability    enforcing    sumptuous    sadism    ‘ponpestilent    ethos)    cease    their    jitter    for    a    moment    before    she    transforms    herself.    girl    becomes       …    bedlam    :    as    hair    is    suddenly    cut    short,    facial    features    shift    and    distort    (changing    orientation    as    well    as    configuration),    even    her    body    type    changes.    there    is     now    the    addition    of    longer,    more    fragile    extremities.

[basilikum]

[hierdead]

switcblade.

FOR  A  VERY  LONG  TIME , he  says  nothing . he  refuses  to , rather . it’s  another  face  that  he  can’t  recognize ,  but  the  aspect  remains  hardly  a  concern . now , he  wonders  whether  she’s  a new  offspring  of  his  agency , a  godless  creature  shaped  from  similar  grief  &  sharp  instincts  to  hunt  down  the  defectives . ah , well . whatever  she  was  supposed  to  be , his executioner , or  perhaps  just  another  hate - ridden  body  running  on  vengeance ,—– she  stood  with  strange  pleasure , grinning  bloody - teethed  &  wearing  the  dull  injuries  of  her  state  in  manic  display . it’s  an  insufferable  grin , he  decides .  ❝ — i hate  useless  talks . ❞ blood  spat  on  ground ,  he  makes  no  attempt  to  conceal  the  repulsion  that  sits  evident  over  the  curl  of  his  lips , a  sneer  cruel  enough  to  delude  death  itself .  ❝ who  sent  you ? let  them  know  that  it  was  a  clever  attempt .❞

PANDEMONIUM   —   —   —   IT   BUDS   /   IT   BLOSSOMS,     crescent     cut   open     &     smiling     &     lifting     up     the     lilt     &     sway     of     her     laugh     as     she     throws    back      her     head   &     titters     —     unbridled     /     ungodly.     she’ll     pull     from     her     breast,     her     own     damned     apostles     !     will     forge     herself     kin     –     in     blight     &     in     bane   –   to     rollick     along     in     daisy     -     chain   &     dirty     glee     with     plague     &     fist     &     red     death     rubbed     into     knuckles     split     on   the     bones     of     doves.     ❝     heh,    who     sent     me     ?     who     do     think   ?     ❞     punches     him     in     the     shoulder,     dilemma     debating      savagery’s      extent     &   absolute.     if     she     hits     too     hard,     he’ll     most     likely     become     indignantly     irate      :      misfortunate.     she     will     not     dare     go     where     she     is     not     entertained.

[hierdead]

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