｡:*• ─ IT’S CHRISTMAS TIME !      ›  ( Accepting )

The world is entire, and I am outside of it, crying …  —

katrien de blauwer  /  edith sitwell  /  e. m. forster  /  anaïs nin  /  virginia woolf  /  h. g. wells

𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬  𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺.

↬   THE  INFERNAL  DEVICES  SERIES   (  2010 - 2013  )  by  cassandra  clare.

sentences  taken  from  or  inspired  by  the  dialogue  from  the  series,  including  the  books  clockwork  angel,  clockwork  prince,  &  clockwork  princess.

+   feel  free  to  change  pronouns  /  roles  !

‘  one  must  always  be  careful  of  books,  and  what  is  inside  them.  ’

‘   we  live  and  breathe  words.  ’

‘  if  there  is  no  one  in  the  world  who  cares  for  you,  do  you  really  exist  at  all  ?  ’

‘  they  say  time  heals  all  wounds,  but  that  presumes  the  source  of  grief  is  finite.  ’

‘  requited  love  is  nice,  but  it  doesn’t  make  much  of  a  ballad.  ’

‘  i  am  not  the  one  of  us  who  has  no  heart.  ’

‘  i  haven’t  broken  his  heart  at  all.  ’

‘  you  don’t  know  that  there’s  only  oblivion  after  death.  ’

‘  if  you  have  the  soul  of  a  warrior,  you  are  a  warrior.  ’

‘  i  thought  we  could  at  least  talk  about  books.  ’

‘  there’s  plenty  of  sense  in  nonsense  sometimes,  if  you  wish  to  look  for  it.  ’

‘  pointless,  needless  suffering  and  pain  ?  i  don’t  suppose  it  would  help  if  i  told  you  that  was  the  way  life  is.  ’

‘  you  hurt  everyone.  everyone  whose  life  you  touch.  ’

‘  it’s  all  heartbreak,  death,  and  unrequited  love.  ’

‘  such  harsh  truths  so  early  in  the  morning  cannot  be  good  for  the  digestion.  ’

‘  hell  is  cold.  ’

‘  i  seek  scandal  and  low  companionship.  ’

‘  perhaps  we  do  need  a  chaperon.  ’

‘  death  could  be  imminent.  ’

‘  the  handsome  fellow  that’s  trying  to  rescue  you  from  a  hideous  fate  is  never  wrong.  ’

‘  i  have  lost  everything.  ’

‘  who  said  we  were  owed  happiness  ?  what  about  what  we  owe  others  ?  ’

‘  he’s  going  to  kill  someone.  or  get  us  killed.  ’

‘  clearly  the  word  excellent  means  something  else  on  this  side  of  the  atlantic.  ’

‘  you  may  hide  here  with  me,  if  you  wish.  ’

‘  with  god  on  your  side,  what  does  luck  matter  ?  ’

‘  are  you  highly  intoxicated  at  the  moment  ?  ’

‘  you  wish  to  marry  me  now  ?  ’

‘  entreat  me  not  to  leave  thee.  ’

‘  don’t  be  ordinary  like  that.  ’

‘  is  it  because  i’m  better  looking  than  you  ?  ’

‘  dreams  can  be  dangerous  things.  ’

‘  declarations  of  love  amuse  me.  ’

‘  be  prepared  to  swoon  at  my  finery.  ’

‘  i  don’t  believe  you  can  threaten  people  into  goodness.  ’

‘  finally  broke  down  and  admitted  you’re  in  love  with  me,  have  you  ?  ’

‘  i  say  this  out  of  pure  selfishness.  ’

‘  is  loyalty  still  a  commendable  quality  if  it  is  misdirected  ?  ’

‘  you  must  be  terribly  dull  witted.  ’

‘  you  need  not  be  so  careful.  i  will  not  break.  ’

‘  there  is  more  to  living  than  not  dying.  ’

‘  men  may  be  stronger,  but  it  is  women  who  endure.  ’

‘  was  there  ever  a  more  beautiful  sound  than  your  name  ?  ’

‘  we  do  not  have  to  carry  the  burden  of  their  choices  or  sins.  ’

‘  life  is  full  of  risks.  death  is  much  simpler.  ’

‘  you  serve  a  greater  cause.  your  life  is  not  yours  to  throw  away.  ’

‘  there  are  so  many  worse  things  than  death.  not  to  be  loved  or  not  to  be  able  to  love,  that  is  worse.  ’

‘  you  are  human.  never  think  that  you  are  not.  ’

‘  if  you’re  determined  to  follow  me  into  hell,  i  cannot  stop  you.  ’

‘  i’ve  always  wanted  to  see  hell.  doesn’t  everyone  ?  ’

‘  come  back  to  me,  for  i  cannot  bear  to  lose  all  my  heart.  ’

‘  i  am  catastrophically  in  love  with  you.  ’

‘   i  can  offer  you  my  heart,  though  i  have  no  idea  how  many  more  beats  it  shall  sustain.  ’

‘  our  souls  are  knit.  we  are  one  person.  ’

‘  i  do  not  want  to  sit  by  while  tragedy  comes  for  us.  ’

‘  i  am  leaving,  but  i  am  living.  i  will  not  be  gone  from  you  entirely.  ’

‘  they  say  that  you  cannot  love  two  people  at  once.  ’

‘  i  cannot  leave  you  to  face  death  alone.  ’

‘  when  i  breathe,  i  will  think  of  you,  for  without  you  i  would  have  been  dead  years  ago.  ’

‘  the  world  is  a  wheel.  when  we  rise  and  fall,  we  do  it  together.  ’

‘  you  are  the  first  dream  of  my  soul,  the  only  dream  i  was  unable  to  stop  myself  from  dreaming.  ’

‘  when  i  am  in  the  darkness,  i  want  to  think  of  it  in  the  light,  with  you.  ’

‘  heroes  endure  because  we  need  them.  not  for  their  own  sakes.  ’

‘  if  there  is  a  life  after  this  one,  let  me  meet  you  in  it.  ’

‘  life  is  a  book,  and  there  are  a  thousand  pages  i  have  not  yet  read.  ’

‘  words  have  the  power  to  change  us.  ’

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍  ;  x.

‘ 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐀𝐘 𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐄    /    𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐄. ‘    eos’ populus harbored its own awareness regarding tribute in exchange for divine boon, and so, too, had children who were necessitated to grow solitary into the rule of cruel fate.  among the silent pantheon favored their king the concept of sacrifice specifically.  a haloed body, offered to redeem the sins of many, a structural rite as old as time.  for such, she was ne’er taught alternatives, too holy the word that she could ever question blood-soaked blessings.    ( should one call this bravery or, rather, lunacy ? )    in fact did the practice of oblation burn deeply into each mundane obligation, a life baptized and groomed and molded based on pure devotion ;  how ought she ever entertain another route ?  and in spite of such unthinkable idea, must she admit appreciation for its innocent source.  you, of self-preserving stubbornness against hardships, might not have imagined the consequence in withdrawing from the preordained journey toward the sacramental altar.  

upon the stone of the chosen site for rest had minor struggles manifested.  with slight amusement conducting her laugh did she assist ;  ropes tied to knots, poles pillared against, covers succumbed to her neat tug.  it was a clumsy little ordeal, but a cheerful one as well, she noted, as blankets unfurled within the interior of this tent-shelter.     “ it is not so bothersome.  i understand my position, the distance between them and me, and it would be unfair to not acknowledge that, for plenty of the people, to address me so is an expression of respect, but formalities are not a strict requirement for me.  to foster relations with allies on a personal basis and equal grounds can be a wonderful thing, too. ”    to unravel her own stance in a matter that exposed her lonesome did not come with ease.  in all the reverence called she herself anything but admirable, not by far could she qualify as a noble-driven figurehead ;  yet mused every story the same thing :  somewhere, somehow, someone must manufacture softness to a crown and compassion to a shepherd’s crook.    “ nonetheless, i am curious, and particularly worried, about your circumstances.  how is it that a young boy such as you is committing to such dangerous tasks ?  is there no guardian who would be concerned for your safety ? ” // @hamadaxfighter

―― 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑 𝐈 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 . (  main connections ;  *  ship exclusive )

asterites   :    𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙻𝙻𝙰 𝙽𝙾𝚇 𝙵𝙻𝙴𝚄𝚁𝙴𝚃 + 𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝙰𝙳𝙳𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻 𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃𝚂 ♡. battleshot    :    𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝙾 𝙰𝚁𝙶𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚄𝙼. hellseng    :    𝙱𝙻𝙾𝙶 𝚆𝙸𝙳𝙴. meteorea : 𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚄𝙳 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙴. reginrokkr    :    𝙳𝙰𝙸𝙽𝚂𝙻𝙴𝙸𝙵.  * re-no    :   𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙾.  * royalarms : 𝙽𝙾𝙲𝚃𝙸𝚂 𝙻𝚄𝙲𝙸𝚂 𝙲𝙰𝙴𝙻𝚄𝙼.

general main-connections guidelines and info below the cut :

mains are people i feel the most comfortable to plot with, they are not affiliates but they can potentially influence my portrayal if what we discuss is applicable on a broader spectrum ( for example, ailli's stella is part of luna's backstory because she is family and therefore it will be her i refer to whenever she is mentioned in an in-character or out-of-character scenario ). i do not take up affiliates on the principle that it often comes across as a closed club and deters people too much from interacting.

that being said, if you would like to be removed as a main for whatever reason, please message me ! i will clean out this list now and then and mostly take down or switch out urls upon the occurrence of a blog-move or blog deactivation, otherwise there is no time limit for being on this list nor will there be any measurement of interest based on activity. all i ask for is communication.

i've been shipping exclusively on the romantic front for a long time for management reasons, and it's always been one-sided. i personally do not care if someone ships with more versions of the same character as mine.

Aphelion • Jesper Kyd feat. Melissa Kaplan

Melancholia - Yoko Shimomura. Final Fantasy XV.

* 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃 .

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 // you need rest. more than anything, you must allow yourself rest. death is frightening– it is inevitable, it is unstoppable– but, it can also be a thing of great beauty. it is an agent of change. it is the forest fire that paves way for new life. allow yourself this rest, and be prepared for the change to come. brace yourself. it will be hard, it will not be kind, but you are more than ready. you just need to rest first.

𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 : 13 𝐔𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 : endings, change, transformation, transition 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃 : resistance to change, personal transformation, inner purging

tagged by : @reginrokkr tagging : @infersang @asterites / @rosefaint @royalarms / @meteorea + anyone who wants to do it !

Luna mancante avanti l'alba - Filippo Palizzi

                                                         come back                                                    even as a shadow                                                      even as a dream

   *  //   𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐆 .

NOVEMBER 19TH,   1970,   18:27PM ███████ MANOR,   WESTCHESTER COUNTY,   NEW YORK,   UNITED STATES.

ZERO:   𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎,  𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚔. BIG BOSS:   𝚒’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜. ZERO:   𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚜,  𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍,  𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢.    𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚋𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜.    𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚘,  𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚔.    𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚞𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎. BIG BOSS:   𝚒’𝚖 𝚗𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚘,  𝚍𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚍.    𝚒’𝚖 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍-𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚛. ZERO:   𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚔,  𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎.    𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚎𝚜.    𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚌𝚘𝚗,  𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛      ——      𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚗𝚞𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚘𝚗,  𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚓𝚘𝚋. BIG BOSS:    [𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐] ZERO:   𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚋𝚒𝚐 𝚋𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗.    𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢’𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍.    𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚝.    𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎,  𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚊𝚜𝚖,  𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.    𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚜,  𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍.

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐈𝐒  𝐇𝐎𝐖  𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃    𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇   𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉   𝒂   𝒕𝒆𝒏   𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒅   𝒅𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒓    champagne flute in your hand,  putting a convenient face whilst mingling  ‘midst a room of serpents and pink-cheeked sycophants,  the crowd of self-christened ‘elites’.    here you are,  their  concocted idol,  exchanging  forced smiles  and  ingratiating salutations  with utmost reticence as they gather around you like a  band of hawks   /   suffocate you   /   make you feel  less  like a man and more like a dangling pound of  fresh meat  on display for the ravening masses,  salivating   /   eager to feast off  carrion fame.    you nod mechanically   /   uncomfortably,  move out of every casual touch,  a drunken shoulder clap,  a girl trying to chat you up      ——      they are  blind  to the blood clots  on your teeth   /   the hands smirched  red-matricide-regret   /   the mutilating grief transmogrifying your heart into one great abscess    [    it refuses to go away.    ]      ——      you do not need their emptied congratulations,  seeds of anger sprouting at the accursed title of ‘big boss’ spilling reverently from forked tongues,  an epithet so sorely  pyrrhic-won.

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐇  𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃  𝐖𝐀𝐒  𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑  𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓  𝐅𝐎𝐑  𝐘𝐎𝐔.     you have never been good at feigning  normalcy,  wearing ill-fitting human skin,  civilian clothes unbecoming of a man that wild.    you feel like a twarthed   /   naked   /   trapped animal.    (    no,  you don’t need any of it      ——      what you need is to clear your head because your chest is too tight,  the crowd is  too close   /   too loud,  they are taking up all the oxygen and it’s gotten too hard to breathe and you want to escape   /   lash out   /   rip at muscle and bone and claw your way out before you   -    )    check your blindspot,  case the room  :   there is no clear through-line to the exit.    east,  there is a door      ——      but you cannot say where it leads.    (    better to make for the kitchen,  take your chances in the service tunnels.    they checked your gun at the door,  but you’ve made do with  a knife  in worse situations.    you   -    )    see a window of retreat near the banquet table.    you turn,  make your way there in a hurried stride,  wholly undismayed by the expressions of annoyance you receive at the  rudeness  of your escape. 𝒚𝒐𝒖   𝒄𝒂𝒏   𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆   𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒕’𝒔   𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒆   𝒐𝒏   𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓   𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌    as you evade the throng of bodies and approach a lengthy table brimming with saccharine delicacies.    you stop   /   breath   /   tamp down  instincts  to flee when the burgeoning leonine hunger pangs.    frowning,  you stare at the multicolored appetisers   /   most of which you have never seen before   /   till you take a pair of  meat skewers  and start gnawing at them like a  beast of prey.    a sudden presence at your side provokes chin to rise   /   eye to meet a crown of gold,  wintry blues  peering at you under the heliacal glow of a crystalline chandelier,  and you   -    (    remember the passive  coldness  of her face,  standing in that field as white petals whipped around your ankles.    she gave  her body  and  her child  to her country,  carried her scar as proof,  was willing to mactate herself upon  flowered altars  for a purpose beyond comprehension.    how does she expect you to do the  same  ?    you don’t understand,  you   -    )    see red,  press your eye shut but the petals remain,  like they’re stuck to the flesh of your eyelid.

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇   /   𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃   /   𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘,    shake your head      ——      she is not here.    she is dead.    this is reality.    you turn back to your food   /   get a proper sidelong look at the woman,  recognize her  for who she truly is  ;   lunafreya nox fleuret,  the  sovereign  of a protectorate in the middle of a political scuffle,  more of a  figurehead  on their machinations than a queen    [    much like you.    ]    her brother is a soldier,  acting as her dutiful custodian      ——      you recall shaking his hand briefly in the crowd,  he seemed as  disinclined  to be here as you.    you store the  information  away   /   attempt to be conversational:             ❛    leurs brochettes ne sont pas mauvaises.    mais je préfère encore manger du serpent que ça.    ❜    you say,  french fluently falling off your lips without much pondering.

@moonichor

𝐀 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 :   painted thickly with a layer of varnish, framed in pale fools gold  —  and she, a simple corner ornament.  she was made for this ;  noble-bred, a carefully hand-crafted icon.  wrought for the masses and self-appointed deities to utilize.  they seized and struggled for symbols in order to secure the slightest figment of influence, and if it were not over her, then they would compete over someone else.  they picked their gemstones to toss in the treasure chamber, leaving them without the glimmer, adulterating them within the shadowy obscurities, never to be seen on the television screen.  their ghastly tongues prattled inconceivably, in unison, to attribute to a synchronized white noise. 

with appetite did they seek her attention, too ;  ignorant of the tattered brims which remained proof of military sin and the crime to weaponize innocence like a volatile explosive.  it was a slow killing of a girl who had come to understand this as the typical behavior of hierarchical leeches, demonstrating their feigned relief to have just barely so slipped through the war-cracks.  of course, this was merely show, as they so blithely monetized the shed gore and radioactive bones.  this enormous gauge of politics spanned itself over each head, slithered with haughty threat, ‘twixt the pillars of it all where one specific chancellor watched over every singular motion of hers.  in sickening amounts so, that she urged to swiftly disappear among the crowd, toward the other side of these halls where she found …  you.    (  a trojan paradox, agonized with frauds, and praises for valor, and terrible expectations.  )    curiosity begged for satisfaction and dictated her walk, feather-light, beside you, only to sense a deeply rooted pain projected and carved into her marble-frozen apparition.

then  —  a perplexing dialogue.

“ pardon ? ”    unexpectedly widened brows and eyelids for commentary this macabre.  she fell through clouds.  etiquette quickly revised and staggering back into composure.  here she stood, not a single inch moved, silver-graced and primly kept, soft-handed and crystal-adorned —  in audience with a beast :    a rawed-up, wild child, clad in a man’s muscular structure, bearing its patron status like an ill-fitting crown, which it’s been so compelled to remove.  aggressively.  something equivalent to horror and awe struck her still, an astonished sentiment, existing between a deer and a bear.  suddenly, illogically, her personal tatteredness did not matter.  someone was always frayed more crudely, the eyes more bloodshot, the lungs more filled with desert-dust, the flowerbeds more stained with a carmine shade.    “ vous semblez être un homme avec un sens du goût incomparable. ”    at last, a response to indulge the attempt.  it might also be her individual attempt to shake off the paralyzation.    “ forgive me if it was my approach that caused you to jolt.   but you gave the impression to be in distress.  are you unwell, sir ? ”