seen from Finland
seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Netherlands
seen from China
seen from Finland
seen from Japan
seen from Finland
seen from Vietnam
seen from China
seen from Russia
seen from Australia
seen from Finland
seen from Netherlands
seen from China
seen from Germany
@subject-279:
(continued from x) “Hear what?”
Agnes skeptically arched an eyebrow. "How long have you been standing there for?"
Absorbed was Agnes with her own vocalized ruminations. Just when she thought she had the washroom to herself under the notion that everyone else was busy with class, she realized her error when she left the cubicle and saw the other student. For someone whose stealth was one of her best quirks, Agnes inwardly cursed her carelessness.
OPEN STARTER!
Valentine’s Day was something Alisson did not understand; why was there a specific day for love, if you were supposed to show devotion to your partner every day in order to maintain a stable relationship? It was foolish to have one specific day to give excessive gifts instead of being consistent.
At least, that was her point of view.
Her wings were lower than usual under the weight of the day. She didn’t have a lover, nor did she have someone to be liked by. However, once again, Valentine’s Day was just nonsense, right? She had no reason to feel like this, if she supposedly could no longer feel love.
She repeated that to herself while eating nuts under the shade of the trees near Nevermore Academy. She did not expect company, but if someone familiar approached, Alisson would be more than happy to welcome them with open arms — or wings.
Agnes was slumped against a tree within the grounds surrounding Iago Tower. In the unforgiving Vermonter winter, she moaned painfully, wanting to move yet not having the strength to seek shelter.
The school supper had just ended, and she made her way back to her dormitory alone when she felt a sharp thud on the side of her head. Her vision went black immediately. She woke up in a daze, feeling the ache of bruises around her legs and arms, and was bleeding trickled down from the corner of her scalp. Or so she assumed it was blood, for she could not move to touch the wetness the streamed down her face. Her hands were bound behind her back while her eyes were obscured with a blindfold.
"Help..." The young woman pleaded weakly, futilely, not knowing if anyone was even there to hear her plight. The throbbing on her head much too strong to shake off in exchange for consciousness; she found herself drifting into her faint state over and over.
Shortly thereafter, Agnes a slight movement against her beaten body. Her senses already failed to register anything besides the motion she found herself being shifted in and echoes of a voice.
...Who...?
For what felt like the longest thought she had in a second, she was panged with a deep fear that no one was taking her from this freezing cold but the throes of Death itself.
Then she drifted into the unconscious, returning to the black abyss.
***
The Vanisher woke up, eyes slowly opened and squinted as bright fluorescent lighting tackled her previously obscured sight. It was warm. She was not outside anymore. Yet her vision was yet too blurry to make out anything besides bright, hazy colors and a dark, towering silhouette by her side. She tried to prop herself up with her elbows, but the shooting pain from her bruises immediately caused her to fall back into the cushion of the bed with a pained groan.
"Where am I...?" Agnes worded hoarsely.
[ carry ] sender carries receivers muse to safety after finding them injured. ( @whatawasteofarmydreamers / @subject-279)
It was today.
Today was Larissa’s birthday; a month before Alisson’s. And of course, the latter wasn’t about to show up empty-handed. Sneaking out of the Academy at the last minute to bring a gift to her savior? She did it. She really did. And she tried not to make it too obvious.
At first, she thought of going to Miss Thornhill’s greenhouse and practically steal a flower from there. The problem? The door was locked.
Her feathers bristled as she realized it. It was already night, and between the classes and the tasks she’d been busy with all day, time had flown. Curfew had arrived, and with it, the strict ban on going outside.
Alisson frowned—probably the most expressive face she’d made all week. She was… Stressed. Overwhelmed.
So, she had no choice but to, successfully, though clumsily, climb the fence surrounding the Academy and head toward town as fast as her legs would take her. She bought a rose. A white rose; purity, loyalty… Affection. But a puritan kind of affection.
She also bought something that never failed: a box of chocolates and another of cookies. For Weems? Perhaps a blessing. For Alisson? Pure toxicity for her system. Sometimes she missed what it was like to eat something like that…
[ . . . ]
Her wings trembled under their own weight, her hair strangely neat, and her uniform replaced by a white dress that pooled elegantly at her feet. It was torn, yes, but that dress had been with her all her life: it was special. Just like today.
With a soft knock knock, Alisson didn’t wait for an answer and slipped into Larissa’s office. With the gifts in hand, she walked over and placed them on her desk, without saying a word. Not until everything was arranged to the millimeter — the edges of the boxes perfectly straight and parallel, with the rose placed neatly on top, right in the center — did she step back and let her voice be heard.
— “Happy birthday, Larissa.” — It was all she said. Her face remained as calm as ever, but her wings betrayed her; they trembled, and a few feathers threatened to fall from the tension. She was a little late… But she was there.
[ @scyftan ]
Slurred words from @mysteriousmissweems
Alisson was a mess. She had never been more out of it than she was now. One drink wouldn’t hurt, she thought, and even though she was one of the most responsible students at the Academy for her age, she ended up drinking far more than one glass. And now? Now she was muttering things to herself, her wings draped heavily over her own body. It was a warm and cozy feeling... If she weren't devastated, that's it.
“Headmistress Weems?... Ah... Yes... My baby...” — 'Baby,' an uncommon nickname (too common when she was out of her mind) that Alisson used for people she cared about. — “Yes... Larissa... Mmm...” — A short pause. She was trying to clear her thoughts, but then she got distracted by the mere effort, and she started babbling like she’d swallowed a whole Bible. — “Well, I love her so much... She saved me from my- UgH- From a shitty life... If anything happened to her?... I’d kill. I would kill anyone who hurt her... And... And then? Then... This afternoon... I’ll go to her office and sleep there... And... And...”
After mixing raw feelings with mangled sentences, Alisson finally let her head drop onto the table... And she fell into a deep sleep from which she would wake up feeling awful.
[ @quoththekitten-nevermore ;
( 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐓 ) ; one muse shows up at the other’s doorstep in tears.
𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 ... 𝐈𝐍𝐁𝐎𝐗! ]
Days passed and passed at Nevermore, and Alisson could never leave that place. She was bound to the Academy in a way that went beyond the emotional. Because of her peculiar appearance, no one wanted to give her a job, no one wanted to sell her a house. No one wanted to give her a chance.
So she had nowhere to go.
On a day like any other, Alisson’s intuition picked up on a presence. A presence so familiar… She quickly opened the door to her room and saw Ammonia, her former roommate. Her wings trembled with excitement
Until she noticed the smudged mascara running down the girl’s cheeks.
────── ❛ Ammonia, what’s wrong? ❜ — She asked, her voice as monotone as ever. However, if you looked closely into the depths of her blue eyes, you could see the concern. ────── ❛ For once you come to visit me, and you show up like this. ❜ — She tried to lighten the moment.
When Alisson cuts her own bangs and genuinely ends up like this:
Let’s delve a little deeper into the letters Alisson would write to her acquaintances, friends, or superiors, shall we?
We begin with the one addressed to Ammonia.
The paper of the letter to Ammonia is one of the pages from Alisson’s personal diary. While this might mean nothing special to anyone else, the fact that Alisson chooses to use a page from her diary says a great deal about what Ammonia means to her: for Alisson, using something so personal is a sign of trust.
Although this may already seem quite explored, if one looks closely at the first time Ammonia’s name appears in the letter, a small feline paw print can be seen decorating the “i”. This reflects Alisson’s attention to detail. She connects things in her head and then manifests them through small gestures or symbols that are very, very subtle—almost invisible.
Furthermore, the fact that Alisson uses a possessive pronoun in “My dear Ammonia” implies that the feline is no longer just a roommate to her. Alisson is possessive, and Ammonia has already become one of those people she considers hers.
As if that weren’t enough, Alisson’s personality is reflected in the paragraphs of the letter. At first, the letter begins softly and affectionately, until a moment comes when a slight insult appears: “Freak.” Alisson calls Ammonia weird, marginal, or even crazy—but in a way that is not meant to offend, only to defend. To defend herself, in fact, because later on it becomes clear that Alisson insults herself with the very same word she used for Ammonia.
However, after that slip, the letter redeems itself with an inner gratitude expressed by Alisson, especially in the part where she thanks Ammonia for having trusted her. As I have mentioned several times, Alisson sees herself as a bad person, so the fact that someone places their trust in her is reason enough for her to look at them with soft eyes.
The closing of the letter, however, is tied to that idea of trust. Alisson not only softens when she feels warm enough with someone, but she also becomes territorial, possessive, and protective: “Always your roommate,” she writes as a farewell. This only indicates that, although Alisson considers Ammonia as someone who belongs to her, she also wants reciprocity—that is, she wants Ammonia to see her as her roommate, as her friend.
Secondly, we have the letter to Agnes. Like the one to Ammonia, Agnes’ letter is written on a page from Alisson’s diary, demonstrating closeness, trust, and the fact that Agnes has a reserved place in Alisson’s heart.
What differentiates Agnes’ letter from Ammonia’s is the language Alisson uses. In Agnes’ letter, Alisson adopts a considerably more modern and less formal tone; she uses abbreviations and tries to connect with the way younger teenagers like Agnes communicate. Alisson knows that if she uses excessively formal language, Agnes won’t understand a thing, whereas with Ammonia, Alisson can allow herself to be a bit more unrestrained.
The letter has a warm opening, though not as intimate as the one to Ammonia. While Alisson cares deeply for Agnes, it’s important to remember that she met Ammonia much earlier and, moreover, spends most of her day with her in their shared room.
In the first paragraph of the letter, Alisson mentions that she still keeps the birthday gift Agnes gave her. In the following paragraphs, Alisson also mentions —several times, in fact —different things related to being or feeling seen, a feeling Agnes does not yet experience one hundred percent. Alisson wants Agnes to feel seen, and if she doesn’t feel seen by everyone, she wants her to feel seen by her.
Alisson also describes her first hangout with Agnes, when they went shopping for clothes, and for the second time she highlights what she thinks: that Agnes’ eyes are beautiful. This makes it very clear that Alisson, no matter how stoic she may seem, remembers every single detail of her relationships. She remembers what matters down to an atomic level. She remembers words, colors, hangouts… And although she wouldn’t admit it, she would remember just as well if someone said something bad about her.
At the end of the letter, Alisson reiterates her hopes. She says she hopes Agnes feels seen, and she also emphasizes that she hopes Agnes will see herself the way Alisson sees her: with love, admiration, and dedication.
Why these three things? Love is obvious — a love that leads to a platonic relationship between two friends. Admiration comes from the resilience Agnes builds through her experiences, combined with her way of being and her habits. Dedication refers to how Alisson dedicates time to Agnes; it reflects her wish for Agnes to dedicate time to herself as well, and not only to Wednesday. Alisson wants Agnes to analyze herself in order to heal her wounds.
Finally, Agnes’ letter ends with Alisson’s typical failed attempt at humor, which sounds like her usual dry sarcasm.
Lastly, we arrive at the letter to Larissa, which may contain more obvious details than the previous two. The fact that it is not written on the same paper as the letters to Ammonia or Agnes already says a lot: Alisson trusts Larissa, but she also respects her. Not fear, but respect.
She fears that Larissa might notice the pages are excessively old and worn and ask questions. She fears that Larissa might demand information about that diary, even if a part of her mind believes that to be impossible. Her choice for the letter is simple: a sheet from her notebook. After all, Alisson tries to go unnoticed among teenagers who are at least eighty years younger than her. It had to be obvious, yes.
“MY DEAREST Larissa” places Larissa at the very top of Alisson’s relationships. While Alisson would tear her heart out to give it to Ammonia or Agnes, it must be remembered that Larissa was the one who took her in as just another student — just like another child — which places her as a goddess in the eyes of someone who has been mistreated and tested for most of her life.
The first thing Alisson mentions in her letter to Larissa is that Larissa never gave up on her, and that Larissa never seemed disgusted by her appearance. While the first paragraph appears to be one of gratitude, the most prominent element of the letter is the apologies. This is most likely because Alisson still has enough empathy — if not an excess of it — to feel guilty about the situations she mentions: skipping therapy, making Larissa angry, not trusting her, being afraid when she saw her for the first time… And finally, for biting her.
Nonetheless, it is clear that Alisson tries to downplay her apologies, either to maintain her tough-girl façade or simply out of embarrassment when she mentions that her bite probably left a scar.
In the second paragraph, after admitting that she initially feared Larissa, Alisson also mentions that she was afraid that “Larissa would hurt her too.” This has a lot to do with the distrust Alisson felt at the beginning, and with how having lived only among bad people affected her. However, it also relates to the improvement in Alisson and Larissa’s relationship: over time, that distrust turned into trust, and fear into affection.
Just when it seems Alisson is about to soften even more, her personality roars back, this time not in a pretty way. In addition to a grammatical error she tried to hide with correction fluid, but which is noticeable due to the reduced space between words, —
— one paragraph before finishing the letter, Alisson once again tries to push aside her apologies and bury her most vulnerable feelings by mentioning her worst archenemy: Marilyn Thornhill.
In the letter, Alisson calls Thornhill “that crazy woman,” but there is also a visible strike-through. What is that strike-through? An insult. An insult Alisson regretted at the last moment, when she remembered Larissa’s words, those wishing that Alisson would stop antagonizing Thornhill.
To top it all off, Alisson makes an attempt at threatening Larissa, saying she will push her away if Larissa doesn’t obey her. No matter how dominant she tries to be, those words are not true, and they are just one of Alisson’s many attempts to convince Larissa that Thornhill is a villain simply for teaching a subject related to the Sciences.
Alisson signs off with just her name. Even though she wishes her possessive personality were also reciprocated by Larissa, Alisson maintains composure and formality, as she almost always does.
TAGS;;
[ @quoththekitten-nevermore , @findmyselftoday & @scyftan ]
