#{ tada }

[erloser-blog1]

   guttural GROWLS scraping dry THROAT, hues that could HOLD galaxies dimming ON opaque teal, hasty and SAVAGE are the shakes from PRISONER wrists while struggling AGAINST rusty shackles, seeking a RESTRAINED freedom. INFERNAL ferocity devouring SHATTERS of fuzzy conscience, VAGUING across reality’s EDGES— it’s hot, dizzy. 

     so claimed humanness DROWNING in feverish riot; ( tick tock ) DOOMED fate of become WHAT you most despise HAS arrive— kill. destroy. exterminate. NOT ENOUGH!                 // @choosingfreedom​

[daevaen-archived]

narciissistic

As much as the sorceress would have preferred to stay within her hidden house in the Ennerdale, it was now a necessity for her to venture out, at least once a decade so she may keep up with the changing world. If she did not, then the world would become foreign to her and she would inevitably come to a standstill in history.

A party was, of course, an opportune moment to refresh her knowledge, and to learn what had since changed since the past decade and so the driver-less carriage had been prepared, and Morgan dressed in her finest attire -- black silk decorated gold embroidery and jewellery of gold and obsidian.

Her entrance was characteristically bold -- she did, after all, have to make an impression if anybody were to speak with a strange woman of unknown background.

          Though perhaps the journey south had been unnecessary.

                    "They still remain stagnant."                               She muttered "A waste of time."