@sinfcls / leona &. vladimir .
𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝙽𝙳 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴𝚂 𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝙿𝙴𝙾𝙿𝙻𝙴 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝙲𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙰𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙰𝙻 . but it hurts to burn. or so he conceptualized, bearing witness to the carbonized form before him. it prompts recollection of war torn france, of renault tanks &. scorched remains. brows knit together, distorting measured composure. painless plan botched is cause for a snarl, but alpha swallows the rising rift within his throat ; commands: clean this shit up. &. wolves converge upon still mangled prey. from abysmal depths he ascends, damp draft exchanged for polar inversion. melodies of the nightingale reverberate throughout undercroft corridors, concealing fates of men buried beneath. a theatre harboring tendencies of the colosseum, yet far more simple when time to sweep up the mess.
pakhan comes to halt beside stage director, arms folding atop suited chest. ❛ closed curtains this weekend , 𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 . ❜ ballerinas pirouette to compositions forged by rachmaninoff &. sokolov. it’s a sinister sort of humor, with the dead littered underneath. ❛ i'll double your revenue . and my men will apologize for the inconvenience . ❜













