#hauntingcurse

[b4rren]

goes without saying, but he says it. "it's not fun." the condition, he means. it's powerful in that is inhuman, it's even more powerful in that it's isolating. "but, uh. it's also not contagious."

@hauntingcurse starter call.

[batfall-a]

CIGARETTE between lips as he looks down , and sees one of his men sprawled out upon a crimson carpet. no , not dead he can tell tough ? there had been a blow to the head. matches inhales , and with that inhale comes the smoke that accompanies and settles within lungs for a few moments. holding it there till it threatens a cough , and at last letting the smoke exhale through nostrils. her words coated with a darkened sort of humor as sarcasm drips.

“  he  was  already unconscious  when  i  found  him.  “  / @hauntingcurse

' you gave him a good fucking whack ' knees bend , and blonde tresses fall in front of face as he looks up at her , ' i think you made your point ' though words are said without bite , rather threaded with the slightest hint of exhaustion. ' what did he do ? ' rising once more as he looks into her eyes. cigarette is passed from lips to index finger as he pulls out phone.

' he's new forgive him . . . ' eyes flickering from phone to her as brows are raised , currently texting his men to call the doctor that they have on retention. it HELPS in situations such as this.

this is the second time i've been in a COMPROMISING situation. though ? it's humbling isn't it. always aware that this game of chess has HIGHER stakes than anyone can imagine. getting past oz wasn't the hurtle i imagined it would be. it's the REMAINING at the top , ensuring that mistakes are not made TWICE. i know if she wanted him dead i would've found him so. i've been given a GIFT , and i intend to learn from it.

fire pops ! , a log shifting as embers fly upwards and bathe them both in a warm light. blonde tresses illuminated as features are sharpened by shadows.

[pritvolny]

@hauntingcurse continued from here because beta editor.

something in his jaw twitches.   he wonders if it's the boy that has drowned long ago,  smarted by an insult that would only be posed by someone brave enough to face the king and look him square in the eye.    it affects him for a moment,   there and gone,   like the flicker of candlelight before the room is plunged into darkness again.   here,   he is more at home.    here,   he smiles with teeth and extends a hand to the guest.    the power that thrums in her veins is ancient and novel all the same,   as is his greed.      ❛   I can be more,  with your assistance.   ❜     he does not quite mean it as appreciation,   but a reminder of what he has become,   a yawning abyss that could swallow her whole and emerge stronger.    the throne is icy cold against his flesh,   where claws drum against the golden arm.     ❛   I find that your presence has been quite disconcerting...    distracting,   ❜    his mouth twitches again,   as if to affirm,   the stubborn prince still slumbered underneath:   waiting to be awakened.       ❛   how would you deal with a thorn in your path,  dhufeainnewedd?   ❜

[quismet]

@hauntingcurse ❝ everybody wants me…until they have me. ❞

it’s so frightening to see yourself in a stranger's eyes.   terrifying to think that you don’t know anything about the darkest parts of their soul,   but they stand before you,   a reflection of yourself,   and you can’t shake the feeling that you want to help them.   she’s like that,   this girl.    the girl with hair the colour of straw left out in the sun a little too long and a fashion sense that gave every “quirky” angeleno a run for their money.    i see myself in her.    empathy stirs painfully in my chest and i prop my elbows up on the bakery counter.    ❝   it’s like a game,    ❞   i start.    ❝   and when people win they don’t know what to do with their shiny new trophy except leave it on a shelf to collect dust.   ❞    i think of my husband and my anger flares.    with a slow inhale i untie the teal apron and round the corner to join her on the other side.    i lead us to a small,   round table and settle myself down on the cold seat of an untouched chair.

❝    what did you say your name was again ?    ishtar ?    ❞   i ask as if I’ve forgotten but my memory is sharper than ever.   but people like to believe that they were an exception,   as if i forget all names but theirs.   so i let her feel a little special,   god knows she needs it.    the girl who had strolled into my store during opening hour had been the high sun at noon but the pools of sorrow in her stare were deep enough to drown in.    i know what it feels like to put on a mask,   to be someone you’re not because no one is willing to face the reality of what you are.   i understand you,   ishtar.    ❝    ishtar,   you seem like a girl everyone wants.    beautiful,   charismatic,   a little off    —   and i mean that in the best way possible.   ❞    i flash her a smile,   a toothy one from ear to ear.   i try my best to keep my expression gentle but i feel the clench of my jaw and how it weaves ire into my grin as i pass forward my advice.   ❝   but you need to know,   not everyone deserves you.    ❞    the darkness that flashed across my face vanishes in a matter of seconds and i lean across the table with a pinky out.   ❝   i want you to promise me.    promise me you won’t give a piece of yourself to just anyone.   ❞

[joyuex]

DAZE :  for one muse to wake somewhere and find the other hovering over them / @hauntingcurse

his dreams are half - lit, shapeless things full of shadowed faces and hallowed songs ... a lady here, a sword there. a form that could be his brother, a form that could be his mother. his uncle to the side, looking at him with disappointed eyes. voices begging him for help, voices cursing his name. and him, over it all. shining golden with holy light : arthur, the once and future king. he reaches for him, grasping and desperate, but the moment fingers meet flesh it melts away. ashes to ashes, dust to dust. and him, spiraling in it's wake. he lets out a groan, hideous and heartbroken, as his eyes fill with tears enough to drown. he sways, caught in a terrible tempest of emotions, his arms swinging wildly. desperate to find something, anything ... and finding the open air of morning. a room breached by daylight, dazzling in the morning sun. and her in the corner, watching him with eyes horrible and blue. he sits, blankets pulled tights to chest and his own dark eyes flashing back a warning. ❝ my lady ! ❞ his tone is one meant to scold, though he barely strikes an imposing figure with his rumpled hair and red - tinged cheeks. ❝ be off with you ! you ought not be here, not whilst i sleep. you are lucky my sword is in the other room, else it would have been a sorry end for us both ... and it isn't proper, besides. ❞

[driedflwers]

❝ i am haunted by your incompetence. it keeps me up at night. ❞ for firefox the worstie

and here the sorceress, bound from stomach to sternum in dimeritium shackles. they jingle merrily with every heavy hoof-step along the beaten bath. a solemn procession of flies clad in black follows alongside the horse’s frothing mouth. occasionally one strays too close and firefox swats at it with a scar-speckled hand. they’ve been travelling for far too long. days of riding in bitter company and drinking even bitterer wine. ( moon-weary, sun-scathed. )

he casts her a withering stare without looking behind him. the glare settles on an eastward tree and strikes a songbird dead. all the gods fuck him. foregoing the courtesy of a warning, firefox digs an elbow between ishtar's ribs and pushes her off the back of the saddle. the sound she makes on impact with the dirt is satisfying, like deadweight hitting an open grave. he smiles thinly to himself. maybe eternal suffering at the hands of a recalcitrant oracle isn’t so bad after all! ( fire-maker, sin-born, and everlasting all the same. )

' oh no, ‘    comes the monotone exclamation. he tugs on the reins, and the horse ambles to a halt with a nickered protest.    ‘ in all of my incompetence, i seem to have lost control of my limbs. '    he half-turns, looking at her from over his shoulder.    ' vex me not, witch, or i'll have you dragged a while. '

[martyrshe]

While Philippa's relationship with the other sorceress is not as tumultuous as her usual relationships tend to be, it certainly cannot be described as loving. Nevertheless, there exists a mutual respect and a begrudging admiration, even if Philippa would never admit to it to any living soul. It's hard to deny the fact that the other is a living legend, and to say otherwise would be a blatant lie. In truth, she often finds herself looking up to her, even as she tries to hide it and keep herself in check.

❛ 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜. ❜

"I would say likewise, but I did hope I wouldn't have to see you again." Tone dropping with sarcasm, even at the fact that technically she cannot see the other anymore. Alas, her voice grates on her already frail nerves, and despite not fully meaning her words, she does not find it in herself to even spit out a insincere apology.

"...it doesn't sound like a terrible idea, though, at the moment." A slight hesitation in her voice, she turns her chin towards where she presumes @hauntingcurse to be. "What is it that you want?"

[altarcup]

﹙   ＊   ﹚      &*  @hauntingcurse

        ❛❛  guard your tongue. 𝖎 ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ 𝐶𝑂𝑀𝐸 𝐵𝐴𝐶𝐾 for you.  ❜❜