not a thought of ‘ should have never told her ’ ― no, things must be told, some finding themselves of especial importance. such as now. sabitsuki knew.
「do you notice the marks on your neck the torn out pages and the shit we said on them. it was me. don’t be stupid, think about it, you know it was no more air no reason just because i got mad. at you. you probably wouldn’t hang out with your killer or the people you’ve killed but i do it all the time. even before this. it’s nothing weird.」
{ ✘♟✘ }
{ recite the words verbatim, with your ruined brain and parched lips - though you cannot, and all that is is gibberish. voice your thoughts for once, voice them child; you have nothing to fear }
❝ Ach-? ❞
{ still, remain under cover, for you have little idea of reaction as your appendages reach to touch your neck }
[ i am i supposed to believe that? because i think i do. i ]
[ no. you did that? you really did? ]
[ i, what? what do you want me to think about this? ]
[ why did you even tell me, you didn’t have to mention anything. but you did? that scares me more than thinking about? ]
akin to telling the freckled, aquatic girl; painful, and therefore unusual. hatred for such, but she pursues.
「you HAVE do you think death is permanent? because it’s not. especially not here. you go to the trials, like part of the cattle, you know that, right. it’s a basic.」
{ ✘♟✘ }
[ no, i know it isn’t but ]
Picture this; You know what happens, You know it happens, But you don’t think it could happen to you.
Ignorance, in this case, would be better.
[ i didn’t think it would be me, i guess? i? ]
[ what, who, where, when…why. or was it just an accident? did i get myself killed somehow? ]
ah. her face shows again; she is pure, & of innocence, and corrupted must taint it again. bring her wrath among all those who’d do so to her, yet when it is herself, she shan’t lay a claw upon her own skin.
「have you ever died before.」
she has.
{ ✘♟✘ }
Questions, more than anything, are pieces of consciousness allowing access into a picture, however small. She knows this, but keeps the message at the back of her brain, fearing insight she would rather have none of.
rusted does not think that is much of an answer; but nevertheless, it is one. she will take anything. ( she’s not hurt, not dead, so she’s not bitching. )
「how do you do nothing for that long.」
{ ✘♟✘ }
Shrug is simple, half-hearted even; almost as if she’s admitting she doesn’t know, and, if anything, she should be. She could be admitting. Or she most certainly might be.
[ you just do, i guess. ]
[ doing nothing doesn’t really take that much effort, and there’s not really a correct way to go about it so, yeah. ]
I’ll generate a number from 1-77 (YES SEVENTY SEVEN OPTIONS!) to see what is in our muses’ destinies, then I’ll write some drabble based on the number generated.
NOTE: This meme was originally posted by frommemetoyou, which has since deleted, breaking the read more. Further notes on that at the end of the read more.
grateful, truly, for the interaction; another secret for herself, unless interaction provoked so. she writes quickly, in haste, ‘nd such is projected onto the way strokes are made & letters to letters to sentences are formed.
「sick gets worse everyday where did you go?」
{ ✘♟✘ }
[ dunno, nowhere. ]
[ sleeping is more of a something you do, really. ]
Haste is noted; to child it matters not, topic at hand is of more importance mundane as it is. { truth told she doesn’t know where she’s been, the activity is all she can give }
