bring me your suffering
the rattle roar of broken bones
the rattle roar of broken bones
Upon hearing Sunjata would need some assistance in King’s End (striving for festivals again after so long seemed either like a foolish errand or fun, and Melita didn’t mind either), she’d flown herself, Iskra, and the horde of companions over. But what greeted them wasn’t the usual flare of flower ambience and abundant greenery – merely endless pits of –
“Fucking mud everywhere,” she pouted, already hiking up the ends of her dress once landing and departing the Firecracker. Mood subsequently and efficiently damaged, another long sigh unfurled, and she watched as Fangorn hesitated, and Sila took off to the skies. Knotting ithe threads carefully, she grabbed a pair of boots from the storage instead, and figured with the humidity her hair was bound to be destroyed anyway, a long lost cause. Taking more than two steps, and spying the well in the distance, her nose wrinkled, launching a monstrous stride when the softened ground threatened to swallow and consume the wader whole. “This might be that memory mud bullshit,” she shouted back to Iskra. Not uncommon, but still carried the weight of many evocations – one distinct in the efforts of Fiat Lux. “One time it got ahold of my uncle and some others and fucking wrecked an entire festival. Like mass carnage.” She’d broken her leg. Aoife’s death. Ronin’s rampage towards the Grounds and the subsequent damage.
“Fucking mud everywhere,” she pouted, already hiking up the ends of her dress once landing and departing the Firecracker. Mood subsequently and efficiently damaged, another long sigh unfurled, and she watched as Fangorn hesitated, and Sila took off to the skies. Knotting ithe threads carefully, she grabbed a pair of boots from the storage instead, and figured with the humidity her hair was bound to be destroyed anyway, a long lost cause. Taking more than two steps, and spying the well in the distance, her nose wrinkled, launching a monstrous stride when the softened ground threatened to swallow and consume the wader whole. “This might be that memory mud bullshit,” she shouted back to Iskra. Not uncommon, but still carried the weight of many evocations – one distinct in the efforts of Fiat Lux. “One time it got ahold of my uncle and some others and fucking wrecked an entire festival. Like mass carnage.” She’d broken her leg. Aoife’s death. Ronin’s rampage towards the Grounds and the subsequent damage.
the honeybee
Bring me the riot in your heart
angry, wild, and raw
angry, wild, and raw
