✧ * VIR MAGNAE, VERAE. ( ap. )

selective & private fox mulder. as understood by rose.

[shortquotations]

This is mankind’s common failure, never to anticipate storms when the sea is calm.

Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince (via ovalbound)

[truthcall]

❛  well,  i  can’t  say  i  was  EXPECTING  help, 'specially not on this case.  ❜  as  long  as  ONE  can  remember,  RECALL  ;  what  little  FALLS  upon visitor  &  how  he  SAVORS  his  woes  ( holy SANCTITY tastes of bloody roses )  ,  all sense swallowed & consumed,  FEASTED  in  stygian  night  ;  ichor,  wine,  ROSÉ  all  pink  &  almost as PERFECT,  like  flesh  mangled  &  sworn  to  LILIES  (  & all-too-bright,  of  dying  SUNLIGHT,  a  girl  of  RUBICUND LIPS  &  smile,  RHAPSODIC  ;  a  cadaver,  SLIT,  nevermore  )  ;  a  CORPSE  lies  between  them,  oh  PEACH-BRUISED  skin  &  how  soft,  how  SAVORED  as  she  had  been  DEATH’S  LOVER  (  his  love seeps slowly, her veins whisper of SCRIPTURE  ;  a  POISON  so  very  saccharine,  RIGOR  MORTIS  ).  &  one can  WONDER,  truly,  of DEVASTATION  ;  in  the  way  fingers,  PAPER-THIN  trace  endless  rivers,  seas,  black  &  all-encompassing,  PHANTASMAGORIA  ----- - --  &  why,  YES,  he’ll  offer  hand  in  GREETING,   dormant  JOVIALITY,   which  ever  so  resembles  red-rimmed eyes  &  bleached BONES  ;  he  is  a  CALAMITY. ❛  i’m  agent  MULDER.  ❜

ANTLERBRAIN liked for a STARTER !

[truthcall]

           ❛  WHOA,  easy  there,  BLONDIE !  this  is  a  crime  scene,  i’d  suggest  you  BACK OFF.  ❜   he  is  SCARLET  CATECHISM  in  flesh,  in  bone,  how  SWEET  are  fangs,  rubescent  &  simply  DRIPPING  (  &  one  can  wonder,  indeed,  of  POMEGRANATE  SEEDS  crushed,  of  DREDGED  ailment  all  too  UNFLATTERING,  like  SKULLS,  cracks  ALABASTER  &  keen  EAR (   seashell-thin   &  JUST  as  lovely  )  could  perceive  THEM  !  the  CRIES  ;  oh,  the  GRIEVING  songs,  SIREN-LOVED  .  .  .   &  larynx-chipped  throat,  DETRIMENT  in  nectar,  drunken,  sunken,  SOLD.  &  ever-so-saccharinely  ROSEATE,  of  DAMASK  &  he’ll  fold  primrose  PETALS  over  &  over  ;  )  nothing  REMAINS,  none  SUBSISTS,  but  dismal,  CARMINE,  absolute ---- --  the sheer  ;  FLORID  evidence  of  his  COSMIC  DECAY.  ❛  lovely  LADIES  like  yourself  ;  they  shouldn’t be  SEEING  these  kinda  things,  HM ? ❜

RADIANTREMEDY​ liked for a STARTER !

[truthcall]

    ❛  what’cha doing out in these WOODS, miss ?   it’s getting LATE.  ❜    oh,    there   lies   NOTHING  poetic,  nothing,  under  an  OIL-BLACK sky,   DARK   &   brooding   &   how  a  chest  ACHES  of  plague   ---- --  he REMEMBERS.   (  oh  how  DEARLY  did  DEATH  press  lips,  VESPERTINE,  upon  cheek  ?  )  &  measured   SMILE,  does  it  GRACE  features,  curved  &  QUAVERING  ;  lest  he  ALLOW  the  girl  to  venture,  to  VANISH  betwixt  FOLIAGE,  dreadfully  SUBDUED  --- --  he  shall  NOT !  &  voice,  impossibly  SOFT  &  TRANSIENT,  dying  light,  each  INTONATION  a  whisper,  FLICKERING.  ❛  these  parts  are  well-known  for  BEIN’  easy  pickings  for the  local  VAMPIRE  folk.  y’know,  the  pointy-toothed  ones.  ❜

BORNHALF liked for a starter !

[truthcall]

so this is a BRAND NEW account for the x-files’ FOX MULDER ! i’m just going on a small follow spree, so don’t mind me.

[thelovejournals]

Love is the same as being lost. Except you don’t care that you’re lost.

Jedediah Berry, The Coyote Road: Trickster Tales. (via fyp-psychology)