08-19-2015, 02:03 AM
Her life does not hold much purpose since Eerie (Anarchist?) released her grip on the gray girl's mind and body. She had found comfort in that choking embrace, nestled comfortably in the loss of control with entire days or weeks missing from her memory. There were glimpses of that cruel, that beautiful oppressor looming over her with a look of disgust clouding her features but Virgo had found only joy there. Perhaps she had been drawn by that idea of punishment like a moth to a candle. She set fire to her wings and delighted in the destruction of herself.
If she had ever felt love before, it was nothing compared to what she felt for that jungle creature.
She leans her near-white shoulder against the rough bark of a tree as she recalls the way Eerie's or Anarchist's or whomever's vines had strangled her skin with its unforgiving thorns. Virgo had gagged on that monster's spores and given life to a precious boy, a perfect child that she had set loose into the word so long ago. Somewhere in that haze of pain and slumber, she had named him Pantheon because he had been her everything - and that was why she had to let him be free of her own vile clutches.
Her dark eyes blink slowly as she presses her skin just a little tighter to the tree so it feels a little more like her idea of love. Yes, love to her is teeth and claws that paint her world a shade of red that she cannot find anywhere else, or at least anywhere she cares to search. She waits here beneath the pitch black shade of this tree and hides from even the moonlight; its face is too much like the pale stare of her mother in the few blurry seconds she knew her. When that perfect, revolting face peeks out from behind the navy clouds, she can almost hear those precious words that would send her world shattering to the ground.
It is more than she could ever bear and so she escapes once more into her memories, into a place where everything is sharp and cold and alone like she is.
If she had ever felt love before, it was nothing compared to what she felt for that jungle creature.
She leans her near-white shoulder against the rough bark of a tree as she recalls the way Eerie's or Anarchist's or whomever's vines had strangled her skin with its unforgiving thorns. Virgo had gagged on that monster's spores and given life to a precious boy, a perfect child that she had set loose into the word so long ago. Somewhere in that haze of pain and slumber, she had named him Pantheon because he had been her everything - and that was why she had to let him be free of her own vile clutches.
Her dark eyes blink slowly as she presses her skin just a little tighter to the tree so it feels a little more like her idea of love. Yes, love to her is teeth and claws that paint her world a shade of red that she cannot find anywhere else, or at least anywhere she cares to search. She waits here beneath the pitch black shade of this tree and hides from even the moonlight; its face is too much like the pale stare of her mother in the few blurry seconds she knew her. When that perfect, revolting face peeks out from behind the navy clouds, she can almost hear those precious words that would send her world shattering to the ground.
It is more than she could ever bear and so she escapes once more into her memories, into a place where everything is sharp and cold and alone like she is.
VIRGO
she comes at your body like a feast.
she picks you clean, then wants to know why you are so empty.
she leaves, she leaves.
she comes at your body like a feast.
she picks you clean, then wants to know why you are so empty.
she leaves, she leaves.