from torn prayers — vargen. & reyes. [blitz]

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napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.
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from torn prayers — vargen. & reyes. [blitz] Oct 5, 2019 13:17:08 GMT -5

Post by napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ. on Oct 5, 2019 13:17:08 GMT -5

there's blood on your lies
the scars open wide
there is nowhere for you to hide
the hunter's moon is shining

Slivers of moonlight strewed themselves across the marble tiles, painting them bright and gray.

As they had rushed in through the spaces in the filigreed decorations over the tall windows, they cast shadows, crooked and sinewy, dousing the floor in strange patterns I traced with a fingertip. There was a method to the filigree covering, a beauty to its traceries, but there was no method to the patterns, no beauty to marvel at, no message to read.

Sometimes, things were simply what they appeared as; nothing more, nothing less. I tightened my jaw, and turned back to the arrangements in front of me.

In a circle of flowers, laid the maroon cut of an animal liver, glistening with moonlight and the frost from the meat cooler. The filigree's shadows crisscrossed over it also.

I let my fingers touch the flesh; it was velvety, all softness.

“Gods,” I called, eyes falling close, “here lays an organ of an animal that’d passed over, crossed Death’s threshold and entered His kingdom. I give it to you, divine beings. Make it atrophy, make it decay, feast upon its rot and—”

A sound erupted from a corner and halted my words.

I stood up, eyes narrowed at the dark corner.

“Who is it?” It wasn’t a query, but a command.

i'm running with the wolves tonight
i'm running with the wolves
i'm running with the wolves tonight
i'm running with the wolves

lyrics: aurora — running with the wolves

Last Edit: Oct 5, 2019 13:18:55 GMT -5 by napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.

堕落天使

d6a georgie cham 🐢 frankel
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call me jaded

from torn prayers — vargen. & reyes. [blitz] Oct 6, 2019 10:29:42 GMT -5

Post by d6a georgie cham 🐢 frankel on Oct 6, 2019 10:29:42 GMT -5

A tiptoe through dusk. The bolts of my uncle’s security have been lifted and yet I am so accustomed to continuing my activity through the night. Shelby and the Rasoio are likely well-rested by now but still the comfort of the Capitol’s mattress cannot lure me.

So little to explore in the tribute headquarters, the boundaries are far beyond my own talents to breach. Futuristic Capitol locks with mechanisms so foreign to me, my only free route is through the hallways and to the dining hall. My steps are so clearly being traced by the busying avoxes and dormant peacekeepers that guard most entrances.

What am I searching for tonight?

Maybe a face to keep as company through this late evening. Anyone to bicker with or share a glass, even just a simple conversation holder. I spend most of my nights venturing alone through the District back home and yet the few short days I have been here, there has been an impulse to acquaint myself with every new face. I am not here to make friends or enemies. Just contacts. A handful of keys to help unlock the door that will free me at the end of the games. Somebody to watch my back or offer a hand. Friends and enemies carry too much emotion. I just need colleagues.

Murmurs in the entrance hall perk my ears as I follow the whispers up ahead. Sapphire’s District partner, I have heard very strange tales about this boy…and what the fuck is that on the floor? Some sort of meat that is circled with flowers. ”I know a lot of people that worship Ripred back home but this is some fucked up shit.” I walk across most of the flowers that are laid out before the boy, before bending down low to the ground. ”I don’t want to know where you got that piece of meat from.”