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strywoven · 7 days

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Lo’ hush goes the wood , all things sudden in s i l e n c e ( thought yourself alone , did you ? ) . It makes for a haunting stillness ; no wind , no movement , not even the ever-motion of time seems to challenge the queer presence that pervades this place , holding it h o s t a g e , held transcended within delicate palm unseen.

One must always be vigil , be cautious , for you never know what LURKS & AWAITS your weaker moments ( tell me , boy , what is sweeter to a predator than a bleeding , breaking heart ? ) . Yet what comes for him is not some monstrous , malevolent spirit , rather instead a GRAND CREATURE whom emerges with g r a c e from the thicket , stepping into the light of the sun , casting itself as if AFLAME ; russet pelt gleaming , glinting with cinder-glow caught ‘neath the fur , like living hearth. The foliage around it bends a w a y from its apparition , the wood itself MAKING WAY for such an entrance , all leaf and flora paying owed reverence to this ESTEEMED ENTITY .

The wood chants its blessed name , in a way all nature speaks to those who listen : KAËLTYR , KAËLTYR , KAËLTYR . An ancient verse , incanted deep within the very p u l s e of the earth itself ; a cursed blood immortal , inevitable with STRENGTH & VIRTUE , both.

Every step a beat , a drumming of power struck up from great hooves as the entity strides forward , filling the air with a sense of PEACE & SOLACE . It comes closer , and closer still , unafraid where most deer would hedge for caution amongst people. Once near enough , it bows its head towards the boy , mindful of its power , eyes locking in a silent greeting , a seeming s m i l e pulling its velveteen muzzle as it leans forth just enough to press soft nose to his cheek , giving his face a prompting n u d g e , huffing warm breath against his skin , where burning smoke lightly - though harmlessly - whispers from nostrils , burnishing flesh with a gentle tarnish.

Antlered head cants , ears flicking. It's too-keen eyes seem to be asking the lad : Are you alright ? Can I help ? After all , it was his woebegotten energy that had summoned it to his side at all ( & any good god-creature should like to answer the call of the most ill-fated ; he , no different from the mortals it once carried into a blissful eternity in eras bygone ) .

The sting upon knuckles did not subdue internal ache. He gave them a chance, a chance to satiate their own desire for dominance, and it only resulted with uniform slacks being ripped and rawness scraping his knees. That, too, did not quell a more profound ache. Had he thrown himself at the sadism and blood lust of thirty delinquents or even a special grade curse, Fushiguro Megumi knew brutality could not provide the salve for fractured emotions. He did not wish. He did not wish for anything.

If wishes had any probability of coming true or if any deities existed, then a child's dream to have his mother alive and his father at his side would have come true a long time ago. However, Megumi wis could have imagined the joy, albeit profoundly unhealthy, to be like the uncaring, psychotic sorcerers he had heard about. To be cruel, to be filled with malice . . to not care about anyone except one's self, it would be sweetly simple. Life was supposed to be cruel, wasn't it though? The life of a sorcerer above else. I can do this. I can do this. She'll — Tsumiki would wake up one day, otherwise the majority of his life's actions would have been for nothing.

There were no wishes in life neither regrets. Tall tales whispered in the dark when heart was shattering and shattering. Pieces he tried collecting with desperation until the tips of his fingers were grated, nearly touching bone, and layers of scarlet turned to ebony flakes. In lieu of any cure, Megumi sighed, tucking his knees beneath his chin. The smell of irritated flesh, gravel mingling with open skin, alerting his sense of smell; he did nothing about it. He wrapped his arms around his legs, and it was as close to a hug as he was about to get from anyone, including himself.

A month to the day passed since his sister fell into her mysterious coma, and a month was, truthfully, too long. If the greatest sorcerer in the modern age could neither explain nor help the slumbering girl, then what hope was there? An uncomfortable twisting in his guts warned him of what was to come. Megumi had never been a negative child, at least not in his perspective. He always considered himself a realist, and for those who were innately bright and positive, his opinions were always seen as dour and harsh.

It was fact in a world where people died . . and mothers and fathers died and disappeared. Megumi was not completely alone however. He was blessed that his ability which would, realistically, be his own demise provided him with company. Kuro and Shiro had been lifelines of sort when the pressures of existing continued to accumulate, yet he did not want to rub his melancholy unto his divine dogs. All of jujutsu society would have found it queer as shikigami were solely seen as tools even a means to an end. They were part of his soul, his friends, and his most trusted allies; he loved them.

Already he could hear them whining and pressing their wet noses against his face. He wanted it. He shouldn't rely on them too much. Megumi dropped his arms from around his legs and lightly patted the leaf littered ground. The boy had homework to do and school to attend early in the morning, but he didn't care if he made it back to the lonely apartment he and his sister shared before it got dark. Living in the heart of Tokyo ( rather the liver where toxins accumulated ), of all of his life, he hated the bustle and noise more and more each year.

The forest with wind moving through leaves, invertebrates moving through the soil, and mammals running about — it was the peace he dreamed of. He cocked his head to the side, lying cheek on the unscathed part of his knee, and watched as he drew idle circles into the dirt. Disregarding his poor artistic skills, he drew shapes of snakes and barking dogs under a full moon. Anything short of a frown adorning the teen's face was a positive. Neutrality nearly bathed in numbness carried him through the minutes and the hours until . . Eager the boy was as the sound of potential wildlife moving through the woods captured his entire attention. Gemstone eyes scanned past dense grass and trees with breath caught in his throat.

starter for @strywoven

#❧ ⸺ ch. kaen | threads ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. kaen | verse xii: jjk ❞#drippingheart #i don't think you understand how excited i am for this silly little thread :sobbing:

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strywoven · 9 days

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cont'd. / @suiiveur

Brow quirks , noting his stare , the ogling look he grants them ; slow , appraising. Just to tempt him further , Kaen f l i c k e r s , the glimmer in the crystals adorning their body t w i n k l i n g in a soft hue as if to ENTICE INTO A TRAP ( the light they exude seems to offer an unspoken question : is this what you want ? is this what you like ? ) .

Teasing words are met with own cheeky smile. ❝ Y’know , mos’ people would jus’ take th’ kindness an’ say THANKS , ❞ Retort comes as easily as drawing breath , hand giving a dismissive flick to dispel the fire once his cigarette catches alight. They saunter closer , full hips a’swaying as they take up the seat next to him. ❝ B’sides , ‘s m’job ta’ be friendly ta’ th’ Johns , innit ? Figured y’could use it. ❞ He d i d look a little lonely , sitting in the back of the lounge , keeping to himself the whole night ( forgive them for being too curious for their own good ) . They grin at him. ❝ But dun’ go temptin’ me , this ain’t tha’ kinda’ gig , ❞ At least , not for them , though they know some of the other girls might take the proposition off-record. Kaen tilts their head , their eyes sparkling in the dim , their presence a spot of l i g h t amid the sordid scene around them both , ❝ Ah doubt ye could afford me anyways , ❞ They tease , tone light and the least bit flirtatious.

#❧ ⸺ ch. kaen | threads ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. kaen | verse i: main ❞#suiiveur #... i have no excuses for continuing this #don't look at me #kaen thinks they're soooo smooth #boy are they in for it

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strywoven · 9 days

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smth smth , no-one asked for this either , but here is verona's jjk verse. under a cut for length , as usual.

Just as a brief overview of Verona's clan :

The Valhyr clan is extremely secluded and reclusive , done so entirely by choice to preserve the purity of own prowess and pedigree ; they are only about a few dozen to a hundred or so strong , which is absolutely NOTHING in comparison to the dominant clans of the time and of the modern eras which remark on their heritage in ill-favor.

Their staying power in the community is relative to their near-perfected techniques - known for such craft as necromantic rites , conjuring , curse-bearing , illusions , and so on - which have been used to manipulate and mangle the control ( & spirits ) of the greater clans for many generations. These techniques are OF FEMALE HERITAGE ONLY , and the Valhyr clan has followed a very strict matriarchal code ever since this was discovered ( however , practices of male infanticide have thankfully fallen out of favor , but the manipulation of the womb & body to propagate female offspring were still enabled ) . Their code is so enforced , in fact , that they view men as LESSER & WEAKER than women ( think the exact opposite of modern patriarchy & more extreme ) .

Their techniques - colloquially considered “dark craft” by Scandinavian Jujutsu society - are CONSUMPTIVE IN NATURE , which simply translates to : every time a technique is used , the individual sacrifices an equivalent part of themself to utilize the technique in question ( at a soul-based level ) . The Valhyr’s have come to understand that they can “recover” this damage to their existence by devouring / cannibalizing others ( yes , including people’s souls , too ) . The clan will oftentimes have LARGE BANQUETS & FEASTS to celebrate the sacrifice of the people they hunted , slaughtered and prepared for consumption ; it is considered a venerable way to die , to feed their technique and to sustain their livelihood.

However , because these techniques are so dangerous to practice , most women often die before their mastery can be obtained ; the current Matriarch of the clan , alongside her councilwomen of masters , achieved their marks with great price ( sacrificing aspects of own humanity ) . Typically , most young women ( ~20s ) die before they can secure control over their power , being consumed and/or entirely possessed by their techniques. For this reason , many women in the clan are often hurried along into arranged , usually political , marriages to produce “strong and stable” offspring ( for every generation , the valhyr power grows ) . This is also part of the reason as to why the clan is small ; there’s a lot of death and uncertainty in their existence.

Life ( birth - adolescence ) :

Born in late-19th century ( Oct. 31st amid the 1890s ) Scandinavia to the Valhyr clan. Not the most noble of bloodlines , but certainly one of the most INFAMOUS & DANGEROUS , with relatives dating as far back as the Viking Age ( ~8th century ) , recorded in Old Edda as “savage priestesses” and “barbaric sage-women”. The name is relatively well-known throughout the Scandinavian region , holding root in FEAR & FEROCITY .

Verona was baptized , like all of the infants , in blood and ash , and smudged by purifying smoke under the watchful eye of the BLAZING GLORY itself ( the benefactor of humankind , kaëltyr , who watches over all souls , indeed took notice of this child … as she took notice of it , looking down upon her with a knowing smile upon its maw ) .

From birth , Verona was considered strange , if not “ill” ; even during baptism , where most infants would shrill and squirm , she was CALM & STILL , her eerily gleaming silver eyes fixed pointedly at a place above the council’s heads , upon a figure none could perceive. All throughout her infancy , too , Verona gave off this uncanny aura of vigil quietude , hardly ever crying , barely ever stirring ( as if , some said , she was possessed since inception ) . The Matriarch of the clan disapproved of her immediately , taking note of her eyes and the trance-like stare , the sharp and malignant glint she perceived within them and their demonic appearance ; “OMEN” she called her , and the clan henceforth regarded her as such.

By adolescence , Verona’s traits only grew increasingly more concerning ; her silence preceded her , a “death-like” gait , able to stride about from place-to-place in complete quiet , undetected like a spirit. She was forced to wear a chime so people could sense her coming ( one , of course , that she would displace onto other children or wandering curses to play tricks on the adults ) . It became apparent that the Matriarch was right about her eyes , about the strange presence the young girl possessed ; her stare only grew more potent , more pervasive , able to render others within the clan ENTRANCED & ENRAPTURED . She would use this mean little trick of hers to sneak off-grounds and wander into other clans , leaving her own people struck dumb and dazed for several hours before it was even discovered she’d gone missing. As punishment , the Matriarch ordained that she wear a blindfold that would suppress this newfound technique of hers ( one only a few others in the clan held at all ) . Even in wearing it , people continued to say they felt her staring , watching , observing.

Verona swiftly began education , both in the natural order ( science , history , math ) and in combat order ( training her techniques ) . Because her mother - Prym - was a councilwoman , Verona was tutored also in politics and in the arts , being privately groomed to usurp control of the clan when she reached an appropriate age ( ~16-18 ). The training regime - for both aspects of her upbringing - were IMMENSELY STRICT and left little room for the young girl to enjoy being a child or to savor her innocent years.

Because the techniques of the clan progressively increase in power ( but also reasonably destabilize ) with each new generation of daughters , it became quickly apparent that Verona was A PRODIGY amongst her classmates , just as her mother was.

Life ( teen - adulthood ) :

Verona , unlike her peers , made for a very troubling , very hard to control young woman. With immense potential at her disposal , she was arrogant , devious , and cruel , with little moral bounds to speak of. There was one training session where she continued to exert an illusion onto another young woman , even when being told to stop , until her peer became a sniveling husk that collapsed onto the ground in a drooling , convulsing heap. And another time , when she was performing the mastery course for a technique when she extricated the soul of her opponent in front of the entire council ( including her mother and the Matriarch ) and proceeded to devour it and the other’s essence in whole. Appalled , but not entirely surprised , the Matriarch CONDEMNED Verona and her rapidly growing aptitude , denying her any further education and resources.

Prym , however , was stalwart in the idea that she would push Verona to take over the clan and upraise it to new heights. Although disgusted with her daughter’s practices and brutality , even despite the clan’s own rites , she went against the Matriarch’s wishes and , in blackmailing a few other councilwomen to participate , continued to train Verona.

Verona’s prowess grew to be no secret , a newfound master of the unified trinity - mind , body , spirit - with techniques to match ( necromancy / necrosis ; illusion ; enchantment / possession ) at just 16. As with all former masters , and due to the nature of the techniques themselves , Verona sacrificed measures of her own mind , body , and spirit to PERFECT EACH ONE , leaving her arguably less human than most of her counterparts in the clan.

And by the following year , at 17 , she challenged the Matriarch for control of the clan : a battle to the death , wherein the loser would be butchered and symbolically consumed by the clan to “return to her daughters”. Predictably , Verona won and became the new Matriarch , successfully heralding a bloodier era for the Valhyr clan.

Verona was … AMBITIOUS as a leader ( perhaps overly so ) . And she had every reason to be , with her strength. However , when she proposed an all-out insurrection against the rest of the Scandinavian territories , she was met with concern ( the clan is too small to survive a war , they warned her , we have the techniques but we don’t have the manpower ) . But Verona assured them she had the ability to provide the resources. Confused and mortified , everyone watched as she invoked an “old friend” : KAËLTYR , effectively supplanting it , beseeching it for a boon of both virtue and power. When Kaëltyr laughed , “You seek a boon to begin a war ?” Verona , still knelt at its hooves , replied , “Nay , I seek a boon to WIN A WAR , to usher my clan from the shadows and into the light , to stand hand-in-hand beside the divine , as is our right.” Amused by the response , Kaëltyr granted the request , offering favor , though cautioned that “All great things do fall , as all great people so do too”.

In the 1910s , the clans had fallen into widespread civil upheaval ; a bloody , brutal feud ensued with Verona at the helm , painstakingly claiming the whole of the Scandinavian territory and removing control from former clans , devouring the men and preserving the women to bolster their numbers ( which were already granted leverage by Kaëltyr’s cursed progeny enlisted to their aid ) . She became known by the moniker , “THE MATRIARCH” ( an infamous warmonger & fearmonger which assuredly earned a place in history henceforth ) .

With control secured and the clan’s numbers increased , a modicum of peaceability had been bartered. And Verona set out into economic and political affairs ( obviously with a side-business of slaughter ) , one of which was starting up several businesses ( namely a gin company at the end of the brief prohibition era in this time period ; this , still operated in modern-day ) and beginning to seek the company of European society elites ( many of whom had already heard of her various exploits & frowned upon her appearance in the upper-echelons ) .

It was through these jaunts in high society that Verona met Lenore ( aged ~mid-twenties ) , a simple human woman who did not practice Jujutsu sorcery but enraptured her just the same. Shortly after meeting her , Verona began to court her ( perhaps a little dubiously ) . And though both respective families disapproved of the union , they married and settled together ; the era of “THE MATRIARCH” dissolved all because of a single woman.

By 30 , Lenore and Verona were living in domestic bliss while the world continued to turn chaotically around them. Lenore eventually convinced Verona to have a child ; they have a daughter and name her Ravona. But 4-5 years later , as Verona is out - as usual - speaking to Jujutsu elites , away on business , a raid is performed on the estate , razing it to the ground and arresting several members , executing Lenore and Ravona for the sins committed by Verona herself. Always privy to death , Verona senses the conflict , but especially the fall of her family , before she has a chance to act any further , she too is seized and contained. Unwilling to take any chances with her powers , authorities sew her mouth shut , conceal her face , bind her body and chain her in an underground chamber where , they assumed , she would simply rot to death.

But one does not come under attack underprepared. And again , even in her weakest , even flayed by her grief and scorn , she manages to conjure enough energy to invoke Kaëltyr. It is uncertain what transpired within Verona’s body within those days she was chained and isolated , but when she was taken to trial , brought before a judge who would assuredly sentence her execution , Kaëltyr was there , amid the masses , commanding all authority , and stating simply , “I reclaim this woman.” There was nothing to be done about it. Thus , rather than kill Verona ( & rather than risk insighting the spirit’s terrible wrath ) , those in authority simply sentenced her to exile ( & thus into the god-curse’s hands ) .

Life-Death ( present-day )

Verona is serving a life-debt to Kaëltyr ; having sought its benevolence many a’time through her existence , she has incurred penance to be repaid in full. Following the god-curse’s proclamation , Verona was inoculated ( she consumed its flesh , she bonded to its immortality & essence , she sold her soul ) and now lives in constant cycle of sacrifice , a process of dying and undying over and over again to not only repay its favor for her , but also to seek the grace of being permanently absolved of her transgressions ( & inevitably death , released from the cycle ) .

Verona is registered as a SPECIAL GRADE CURSE USER ; but categorically exiled and removed from all Jujutsu society for the rest of time.

After having endured the grief of losing the only two people who matter to her , Kaëltyr offered her PEACE ( read as: it removed Verona’s human heart , her body & spirit now remarkably sustained off of Verona’s necromantic technique & Kaëltyr’s immortal will ) .

Because Kaëltyr ( Kaen ) is in Japan , Verona is there , too. Where it goes , Verona HAS to follow , per their pact.

Verona’s immense negativity conjured a curse some several years ago ; a massive , chimeric entity that tried to kill her when she was asleep. Rather than kill each other , Verona “tamed” it and named it - Pandora - and it , he , now lives in her shadow , serving as her companion. Pandora , ever since , has been feeding upon Verona’s sorrow , rage and innate strength and progressively becoming more powerful himself. They often fight in tandem to one another , together.

Although Verona appears as a woman in her mid-thirties ( she stopped aging ) , she has this uncanny beauty and ethereal aura that speaks to something NOT QUITE HUMAN at all ; too sharp , too predatory , too dangerous... But remarkably alluring.

Verona presently lives like a rich , influential bachelor ( per Kaëltyr’s own influence ) ; she brazenly flaunts her power , flirts with ( married ) women , and continues to manipulate and murder humans , consuming them for sport and pleasure.

Verona is also the last member of her clan’s bloodline. However , she claims she cannot carry children and thus , when she is released from the cycle of penance , the Valhyr name and likely the power , too , shall die alongside her.

Although the moniker , “THE MATRIARCH” did not carry into the modern-day , she is sometimes known as “St. Valhyr” ( again , something Kaëltyr propagated ) . The public is privy to this information and are skeptical of whether or not Verona is a legitimately canonized saint … Though some DO IN FACT refer to her by this title.

#❧ ⸺ ch. verona | headcanons ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. verona | verse ix: jjk ❞#SIGHS #gone are the days when i used to write a few paragraphs and say “just go with it”#now you have to suffer thesis essays #very sorry indeed #( i'm not )#it's all pertinent bg info at the very least #& there will be an exam abt it all at the end of the term--

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strywoven · 13 days

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guys. do you think ( re: the cursed gramophone + records ) that there are times the souls retaliate against being condemned in such a way and just. mock verona's authority ? consider , she walks into the room and the gramophone - unprompted - kicks on with elvis' "devil in disguise" ( oh yes you are ! ) . and verona is just SEETHING . you cannot tell me that hasn't happened a couple times.

#❧ ⸺ ch. verona | headcanons ❞#verona telling this inanimate object that it's 'not funny'#but kaeltyr cackling in the bg like 'no- no- not funny ; hilarious!'

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strywoven · 13 days

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queue is depleted , have an INBOX CALL for your troubles. like this ( and specify ) , and i shall send you a diddy.

#❧ ⸺ inbox call ( specify muse ) ❞#i'll have a little off-time during the week so *shakes can*#if i cannae think of anything unprompted i'll just dump things from your meme tag

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strywoven · 15 days

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so , you know how verona has the ability to extricate ( & consume ) souls ? but is also a woman of culture who loves music ?

what do you think is the over-under of her taking the souls of those whom she truly did not respect nor care for and imbruing them within vinyl records ... to play over her gramophone ... for other people whenever she had those big , massive gatherings of elites for feasts and political affairs ? now , you might be thinking , "mav , wouldn't it be less 'music' and more just horrible sounds ?" and you , dear reader , are absolutely correct ; yes.

but the image of verona sitting with a few of society's upper-caste PLAYING A RECORD OF WAILING & AGONIZED HOWLS & INHUMAN NOTES backed by some lovely piano chords , with a contented smile on her face like , "we might call this an opus , hm ? truly enchanting."

#❧ ⸺ ch. verona | headcanons ❞#would u sit and let her play the souls of the damned for u is the real question

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strywoven · 15 days

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queue is depleted , have an INBOX CALL for your troubles. like this ( and specify ) , and i shall send you a diddy.

#❧ ⸺ inbox call ( specify muse ) ❞#miiight not get to these tonight but mayhaps during the week #time permitting

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strywoven · 15 days

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@fvkit has requested a story : ❛ clean yourself up. you're getting blood all over the place. ❜ [ little mo.]

a prompt i lost.

❝ Aye , an’ whose fault is tha’ … ? ❞ Comes the retort , quick as a whip and no less s h a r p about it , the doe passing the other a g l a r e as they take to busying themself as requested ( he’s right , no way about it , they are making too much of a mess ) . Kaen scoffs , turning their attention back to their body , working on futzing over the latest round of damage incurred from Mo’s PASSIONATE DISPLAY— It hurts , yes , but they know his fancy with them has always been a rather p a i n f u l sort of affair ; this tryst between them is less a love and more an o b s e s s i o n , a p o s s e s s i o n ( some sort of desire hinged on blood & barbarism ; brutality laced with a most fervent & mutual fixation ) .

As he stalks by them , Kaen gathers spit in their mouth and hacks it up at his feet ; a purposeful antagonization , a blatant disrespect ( the saliva is muddled with burning ichor , sizzling & seething upon his boot ) . ❝ Wouldnae ‘urt ye ta’ offer some feckin’ ‘elp sometimes , y’know. B’sides , wha’s gonna ‘appen if ye r u i n yer beloved muse , huh ? ❞ Not possible , Kaen cannot d i e ( which is exactly what makes them his perfect canvas to begin with ) . But that did not mean they wouldn’t mock him for his actions , wouldn’t make to stir the pot a bit and try to regain some semblance of control between them. The smart-mouthed creature is not vain by any means but they do humor themself at the idea that Mo ought to be GRATEFUL for the inspiration and light they provide in his otherwise sordid , m e a n i n g l e s s excuse of a life ( yes , they think , a thank you would suit nicely for all they have done in exchange for enduring his artistry ) .

#❧ ⸺ how can ( queue ) say there is no story here ? ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. kaen | answered ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. kaen | verse i: main ❞#fvkit #fvkit | little mo #idk about you n #but every time these two share time & space #i am both grimacing and grinning

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strywoven · 16 days

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The Queen of the Night (Simon Quaglio, 1818)

#❧ ⸺ how can ( queue ) say there is no story here ? ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. hekate | study ❞

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strywoven · 16 days

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@sphaeraa has requested a story : ❝ at last...i have been waiting for you to arrive. ❞ [ for Verona ~ ]

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

❝ Hoh ? And have I kept you in suspense ? ❞ Ever-cheeky words manifest as playful verse through the Hōgyoku’s headspace , her voice lilting itself in-between thought and memory , settling deep within a welcome , expected s t a i n of the empyrean’s presence to lay root , swelling through his person and taking hold as one might SEIZE the throat of a willing martyr. From darkness , as always , comes her BLIGHTED BRILLIANCE ; a radiance that culls the shadows which surrounds them , her l i g h t seeming to reach out towards him , enfolding him within its cold , immaculate embrace , drawing him NEARER ‘til clawed hands lift and graze against his face , catching g e n t l y against the marble carve of his face , leaving in the wake of her touch a fleeting STING of her corrosive presence ( a faint gnawing , a lingering biting bestowed to flesh ; is naught more than play to god-creatures where pain is but a trifle dealing alongside pleasure ) .

Crowned head b o w s to greet him , lips pressing to lips in a wanting affection before she withdraws and smiles at him. ❝ Have I kept you wanting , even ? ❞ A hum resounds , her head shaking ( mostly at herself & own absence ) . ❝ My apologies if so. It does seem as if our paths like to diverge from one another of late. But do know that I think of you often , and fondly , reverently , whenever I am without you. There is always some great lack when we are apart , you understand , and I am never quite whole lest we are t o g e t h e r . ❞ Such sentiment does not come without immense SINCERITY , the lovering twinkle in her silvery gaze far telling in itself as she drapes own arms about his shoulders and simply h o l d s him , clinging to this moment between them , eager to savor it.

#❧ ⸺ how can ( queue ) say there is no story here ? ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. verona | answered ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. verona | verse i: main ❞#sphaeraa

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strywoven · 16 days

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cursebearing hips

#❧ ⸺ how can ( queue ) say there is no story here ? ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. verona | study ❞

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strywoven · 16 days

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❝ Why … ? ❞ Well , isn’t THAT a novel question ⸺ Been quite some time since anyone thought to ask Kaen why they did anything. Been even longer since Kaen has actually sat down to look their reasoning in the face and acknowledge it ( but can they confide in satoru ? can they trust him with their truth ? only one way to find out ) .

❝ I’ve ALWAYS done this shit , even as far back as my first incarnation , ❞ Kaen confesses , shoulders shrugging , ❝ I may’ve been born a cursed spirit , but I just- I had this feeling … ❞ Is that even the right word ? FEELING ? Curses were not typically born with some deeper understanding of emotion ; they were i n s t i n c t i v e creatures ( as is kaen , if you paid close enough attention to all they did ) . And Kaen has taken note that many higher-borns would regard themselves as PURE ENTITIES ( a perspective which has come into debate quite often these days ) . Which raises the question : if instinct is pure , is natural , is RIGHT … then what would that make something like Kaeltyr , who has always been imbued with an intense feeling ?

A sigh leaves them , cinder puffing out of their mouth. ❝ I don’t- I don’t really know how to describe it to you. It was like , a KNOWING , an UNDERSTANDING the moment I began to walk beside humanity. Like a uh , ‘ yeah , I need to be here ’ kinda’ thing. I had this immense desire to be part of their world , to know each and every soul I came across , ❞ Kaen presses their hands to their face , hiding the way their lips split into a bittersweet grin. ❝ But they- they were always so terrified of me , some even hated me or tried to kill me , and I couldn’t change that. No matter what I did. I realized , though , even if it hurts to do this … I often still feel more human than I do a curse. So , even if humanity begins to reject my presence , I will be there beside them regardless. Because I'm SUPPOSED t'protect them , t'guide them. ❞ Their fingers part , enough to allow them to tilt their head and cast Satoru a glance just to see if he’s registering this NONSENSE ( or if he understands ) .

Today was the first day he'd dropped in on a whim; a mission had ended nearby, and he'd realized he liked the thought of visiting Kaen. So he did; not to check in for the higher-ups or to gather info for any reports that he hasn't been writing, he simply wanted the company.

Now isn't that a strange thought: he was enjoying the company of a Cursed Spirit. Kaen seemed responsive to his companionship too, and as the spirit started talking Satoru began to understand this magnetic presence he felt around them.

He felt the other's gaze on him, felt the shift of cursed energy and the animated motions that accompanied each word. There was a familiar ache in those words that hit a little bit too close. He sat up from where he was lounging on the sofa, examining the odd phantom pain in his chest.

"Miserable and lonely, huh..." He was uncharacteristically quiet, thoughtful. "So, why is it that you try to be human then?"

Satoru flipped a coin around his fingers idly, not even having to think about the complex sequence of tiny Blues and Reds in parallel used to spin it around his fingers rapidly, just a habit sometimes when he felt fidgety. "I gotta, cause I am human, but you're a cursed spirit."

#❧ ⸺ how can ( queue ) say there is no story here ? ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. kaen | threads ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. kaen | verse xii: jjk ❞#limitlessscion #ayo somebody play the uplifting music during this monologue--#this is STUPID

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strywoven · 17 days

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Depictions of Icarus and Daedalus.

#❧ ⸺ how can ( queue ) say there is no story here ? ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. icarus | study ❞

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strywoven · 17 days

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cont'd. // @drippingheart

ONE DAY , he says ⸺ The words ( which might be mistaken for a promise ) inspire in the devourer a s m i l e , an affirming hum. It is only a meager solace , but one she graciously accepts ( her soul , too , is quelled by the prospect ; imagine , a world where even the condemned might know salvation ) . ❝ Such a day cannot come soon enough , ❞ The reply is not bitter so much as wistful , her humor m e l a n c h o l i c . ❝ Glad I am to provide a hand to serve the purpose , at least. ❞ And she means that.

His question feels warranted , the slightest of pries into the woman newly welcomed into the cause. It is not lost on her that t h i s appears to be a commonality they share ( & one she does not often find footing with amongst others very often , either ) ; she has seen it , he understands what it is like to LOVE & CHERISH a child. Thus his prompting about own daughter is , despite her secrecies , a w e l c o m e one ; it provides a push in the RIGHT & PROPER DIRECTION , setting the foundation for what might well be a stronger connection going forward ( with any luck ) .

Her hand dips into the fold of her waistcoat , within an inner-pocket , to procure her wallet , and then a set of pictures carded together. Holding them , h e s i t a t i n g , Verona at last makes the offer , handing them to Suguru so he can see for himself ( there are several , unsurprisingly ; memories tucked together of three people – verona , her wife & her daughter – frozen in moments of laughter & bliss ) . After watching him sift through the images she steps closer , leaning in to tap her clawed digit to one of them – a photo of a spritely little thing , all frazzled hair and beaming grin with missing tooth , currently holding up a poorly made ceramic monster ever so proudly – and speaks , voice hush and bittersweet , ❝ We named her Ravona. And she was so … ❞ The thought trails , her eyes drifting over the photos , distant and detached , fading off into a place bygone before eventually continuing , ❝ … P e r f e c t . Sweet and spirited , and a natural talent. You know , she would always i n s i s t I use my illusions for her to play pretend. She was so fascinated by how it worked , always asking questions , always eager to learn and understand and …— ❞

Her voice audibly BREAKS . Verona gathers herself , shaking her head and taking a breath before pointing to another image in the fold , this of a refined and demure woman perched by the window with a mysterious little smile as she tilts her head back to regard the camera. ❝ — And this gorgeous woman was my wife , Lenore. You would have hated her , she was human. She had cursed energy but no grasp on how to control nor utilize it , neither would her family allow the education for it. I remember them DESPISING ME ; which only made our runaway marriage that much more thrilling in the end. It was her idea that we settle and have a child at all. ❞

It falls quiet for several long measures.

❝ … They … They were KILLED . Taken from me due to my own sins. I live with that grief and remorse , the image of their bodies , every day I survive them. ❞

#❧ ⸺ how can ( queue ) say there is no story here ? ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. verona | threads ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. verona | verse ix: jjk ❞#drippingheart #iirc you said you wanted to springboard off this for our thread sooo #i want you to picture maes hughes levels of pictures being thrown at him rn #literally... dozens...#but rather than bragging verona is fkn mourning and i ; ;

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