[storage for dars]

Always told you not to love me
Now look what you made me do
I got poison in my pocket,
told you I was bad news

I am
an exceptionally broken thing—

It has always been as simple as that, one way or the other. Ruined beyond reparation, and desperately, tragically acceptant of my own fate. Be it a poverish girl with an over-worked father, or the lone rose in a field of briar and brush: I have never quite succeeded in ways a person ought to succeed.

I never built up a career so that I could live a better life, I just married my high school sweetheart, who happened to be wealthy. I never held the hands of my children when we walked through places devoid of stained glass windows and freshly cut lawns, but they grew up still.

My life has been a series of hitting the bullseye despite taking my shots in the dark, and if it might make me less human, if it might make me less of a mother or a wife, it makes me—

an exceptionally broken thing.

My demeanor made you wait,
but the consequences stayed
I killed everything we were
Baby, murder was a case

song: 27 hours

Always told you not to love me
Now look what you made me do
I got poison in my pocket,
told you I was bad news

I am
an exceptionally broken thing—

It has always been as simple as that, one way or the other. Ruined beyond reparation, and desperately, tragically acceptant of my own fate. Be it a poverish girl with an over-worked father, or the lone rose in a field of briar and brush: I have never quite succeeded in ways a person ought to succeed.

I never built up a career so that I could live a better life, I just married my high school sweetheart, who happened to be wealthy. I never held the hands of my children when we walked through places devoid of stained glass windows and freshly cut lawns, but they grew up still.

My life has been a series of hitting the bullseye despite taking my shots in the dark, and if it might make me less human, if it might make me less of a mother or a wife, it makes me—

an exceptionally broken thing.

My demeanor made you wait,
but the consequences stayed
I killed everything we were
Baby, murder was a case

song: 27 hours

"The future can't
be real, I
barely know how
long a moment is"

Charon seems like an interesting figure because it was basically his job to ferry souls across the river styx to the underworld. To make sure they had a safe arrival, a fee of a coin was put in a body's mouth. This translation of him however, would turn him into a real actual factual sailor. He's probably intent upon building a perfect raft, and that's often where he an be found, at the beach building when he's not conducting business. He fancies that one day he could sail off the edge of the worlds into the underworld to finally be at peace. He believes himself to be ages old, a recycled soul that has been reborn again and again simply to act as a ferry man between worlds. Penelope and Learna were the first of the Libertines that Charon met. In fact, when they died, he distinctly remembers ferrying their souls across.

Not only does he build rafts however, if you're looking to make a deal with the devil per say, Charon is the one to go through. He can get rid of a body for you with a snap of his fingers, all you need to do is give him the proper payment. He can also connect you with a higher power to deal with the ones that still breathe first. His value is in his many connections that allow him to make a person disappear almost too easily. He can be found only in the seediest of establishments, always surrounded by a group of people, that soft, knowing smile on his lips. He's see the other side, you know, he's had near death experiences. He has an outlook on death far too old for his years, he's far from afraid of it. Only searching.

He's created all these connections over the years, a boy who just seemed to become out of nowhere. No one knows who his parents are, he's been wandering the streets since he was a toddler, alone since his beginnings.

song: link

"The future can't
be real, I
barely know how
long a moment is"

Charon seems like an interesting figure because it was basically his job to ferry souls across the river styx to the underworld. To make sure they had a safe arrival, a fee of a coin was put in a body's mouth. This translation of him however, would turn him into a real actual factual sailor. He's probably intent upon building a perfect raft, and that's often where he an be found, at the beach building when he's not conducting business. He fancies that one day he could sail off the edge of the worlds into the underworld to finally be at peace. He believes himself to be ages old, a recycled soul that has been reborn again and again simply to act as a ferry man between worlds. Penelope and Learna were the first of the Libertines that Charon met. In fact, when they died, he distinctly remembers ferrying their souls across.

Not only does he build rafts however, if you're looking to make a deal with the devil per say, Charon is the one to go through. He can get rid of a body for you with a snap of his fingers, all you need to do is give him the proper payment. He can also connect you with a higher power to deal with the ones that still breathe first. His value is in his many connections that allow him to make a person disappear almost too easily. He can be found only in the seediest of establishments, always surrounded by a group of people, that soft, knowing smile on his lips. He's see the other side, you know, he's had near death experiences. He has an outlook on death far too old for his years, he's far from afraid of it. Only searching.

He's created all these connections over the years, a boy who just seemed to become out of nowhere. No one knows who his parents are, he's been wandering the streets since he was a toddler, alone since his beginnings.

song: link

Always told you not to love me
Now look what you made me do
I got poison in my pocket,
told you I was bad news

I am
an exceptionally broken thing—

It has always been as simple as that, one way or the other. Ruined beyond reparation, and desperately, tragically acceptant of my own fate. Be it a poverish girl with an over-worked father, or the lone rose in a field of briar and brush: I have never quite succeeded in ways a person ought to succeed.

I never built up a career so that I could live a better life, I just married my high school sweetheart, who happened to be wealthy. I never held the hands of my children when we walked through places devoid of stained glass windows and freshly cut lawns, but they grew up still.

My life has been a series of hitting the bullseye despite taking my shots in the dark, and if it might make me less human, if it might make me less of a mother or a wife, it makes me—

an exceptionally broken thing.

My demeanor made you wait,
but the consequences stayed
I killed everything we were
Baby, murder was a case

song: 27 hours

Always told you not to love me
Now look what you made me do
I got poison in my pocket,
told you I was bad news

I am
an exceptionally broken thing—

It has always been as simple as that, one way or the other. Ruined beyond reparation, and desperately, tragically acceptant of my own fate. Be it a poverish girl with an over-worked father, or the lone rose in a field of briar and brush: I have never quite succeeded in ways a person ought to succeed.

I never built up a career so that I could live a better life, I just married my high school sweetheart, who happened to be wealthy. I never held the hands of my children when we walked through places devoid of stained glass windows and freshly cut lawns, but they grew up still.

My life has been a series of hitting the bullseye despite taking my shots in the dark, and if it might make me less human, if it might make me less of a mother or a wife, it makes me—

an exceptionally broken thing.

My demeanor made you wait,
but the consequences stayed
I killed everything we were
Baby, murder was a case

song: 27 hours