❛ i’m every nightmare you ever had. ❜ ( from mel <33 )
the routine unfolded as it normally did, in that safe-reliable way that meant breathing would be a touch easier as a result of it, with fewer discrepancies to make one's skin itch. if you asked kenneth this was the preferred structured of a thursday afternoon that he had taken off from work to mull over his routine, said ruminating housed inside a small beat-down vila on the outskirts of beverly hills, a thirty minute walk from camp jupiter's parameters. this was the routine: powder, hot water, a terrible amount of sugar, coffee, matched with a buttered toast, picked strawberries, and a jobless entity hovering over his shoulder.
❛❛ i think i've heard that line in a christopher nolan movie. ❜❜ sip, drag, incapacity to share: he kept his eyes out the small window on the side of an antique kitchen, the interior burnished from his valiant efforts to bring the place back to life. the window had been wiped clean and revealed the wide stretch of healthy farmland that belonged to the romans, and the vague shape of melinoë making breakfast sick next to a silo. ❛❛ do you know every supervillain in the world says that? ❜❜
the place wasn't much, but it was a sizeable gift from a sibyl who hadn't wanted it anymore. that was besides the point, when the backdoor was a portal right into the city. thursday afternoon: buy a glue-gun, shove down ten years worth of despair she enlivened. he pushed the plate towards the goddess, food that had been interestingly populated with decay with her nearness. ❛❛ are you still fretting about the earth's eye on your back? ❜❜
