AVARITIA. ⟡ NAME. ⟡ 27, F.
IT’S ALMOST FAIRYTALE–YOUR EXQUISITE BEAUTY BEING BOTH A BLESSING AND A CURSE. You were beloved from the first moment you drew breath, and in the next, reviled. They say you took your mother’s beauty along with her life, and with it, all things soft and beautiful and bright. Your brothers and sisters never forgave you for it and they channelled their aimless grief into your daily misery. Exile to boarding school was your only safe haven—a place where girls and teachers alike orbited you like a solar system, enraptured by your delicate grace and charm. Being adored was so close to being wanted, being needed, and as you grew older, adoration billowed into love and worship. People would go to their knees for a scrap of attention from you; a flicker of flirtation would nearly stop their heart. In you, the world projected all their wildest fantasies and imagination. You were the it girl, the ingenue, the girl everyone wants to be or have or taste. It made you untouchable and it made you monstrous. For what else could you call a creature who eats constantly but is never full? A girl who is beloved by everyone but always starving for more, ravenous for every last sliver of affection and devotion?
DYNAMICS.
SUPERBIA ⟡ TRUE LOVE PARTAKES OF TERROR.
From the moment you saw her, you knew there would only ever be her. The only one you hadn’t beguiled into loving you. She is singular and wholly exceptional because of it. Love is hunger, a never-ending devouring. You learned that best from her. Raised on pedestals by society, reaching from the peak of Olympus to grace the mortal world with your shared elegance and je ne sais quois. Sometimes you don’t know if she loves you as much as she hates that she loves you, because it means she can never destroy you. When you fight, it’s viciousness and animal savagery—mutually assured destruction. You love the same way, after all, with teeth and claws, armed with each other’s deepest, darkest secrets and confessions. The things you speak in the dark to each other that no one else knows.
LUXURIA. ⟡ WE FOUND EACH OTHER HUNGRY.
What began as meaningless flirtation and cavalier provocation sauntered easily into sincere friendship. You were so alike in your unabated wanting, the bottomless hunger that feasted upon you and still left you starving. Where you sated yourself on devotion and adoration, they turned to intimacy and carnality. In your youth, you competed with conquests and bedpost notches, entangling yourselves in trivial gambles and wagers. Many an Adonis and Pandora have fallen prey to your games, discarded like flotsam and collateral damage. They have been many things to you: challenger, enabler, confidante. With them, you feel less hollow, less a thing made out of inexorable longing. He sees the unloved thing curled inside your bones and kisses her cheek, her temple, the crown of her soul.
GULA. ⟡ IF WE ARE BOUND FOR HELL LET IT BE HELL.
The first time was a mistake. The second was a seduction—a pas de deux of danger and exhilaration. He was always hers. SUPERBIA & GULA, the gilded power couple destined for the throne, entwined by birthright and supremacy. But there he was, a velvet smile curving serpentine on his lips, handsome as sin. Not even the garden of Eden could have been worth risking everything, but you chose it anyway. You clashed in searing rage and volatile loathing at first—how dare he believe himself worthy? How could he betray her?–but fury swiftly descended into ravenous desire, a passion that could only be borne from blasphemy. Forbidden fruit. Unlike the rest, you had more than one reason to want him dead. When it came down to it, you loved your freedom more than you could ever love him. Ask any woman and she’ll tell you why Eve chose the world instead of you.
OPEN. ⟡ FC: VALENTINA SAMPAIO.
ALT. FCS: Stav Strahsko, Zión Moreno.