☄ // 赤い彗星

          THE GLASSES  are  settled  on  his  nose  ,  reflective  lenses  hiding  the  eyes  behind  them  .  for  this  he’s  thankful  ,  as  he  could  never  truly  hide  the  emotion  them  ,  but  that  was  a  thought  for  another  time  .  the  frames  are  adjusted  ,  when  Garma  comes  through  the  door  .  

           it’s  going  to  be  a  test  of  his  patience  ,  he  thinks  ,  this  event  .  of  course  ,  there  would  be  the  option  to  lose  all  the  composure  he  had  and  aim  for  the  throat  of  Degwin  ;  but  he’d  rather  not  end  up  a  blood  spatter  on  the  table  .  he  exhales  .  he  stands  up  straighter  .  it  was  time  to  play  nice  , he  thought  ,  turning  to  meet  the  other  .  it  was  a  false  grin  set  in  place  .  

MACBETH.

the howl of wolves.   moonless nights.  dirt under fingernails.  stained silk.   chattering teeth.   voices hoarse and cracked.   rotting fruit.   echoing drums.   dry heaving.   hanging cobwebs.   stifling humidity.  bloodshot eyes.  the roughness of rusted steel. wild rosebushes.  muscle cramps. the sound of splintering wood.

A MIDNIGHT SUMMER’S DREAM.

crackling fires.   ivy crawling on stone.   the faint music of running water.   petrichor.   dirty, bare feet.  tattered clothing.   thistledown.   wilted wildflower crowns. late evening birdsong.   curling leaves.  a symphony of croaking frogs.   drifting feathers.  the eerie sound of windchimes at night.  humming bees.   beds of clover.

ROMEO & JULIET.

warm golden lamplight.   worn shoes.  crumbling brick walls.   whispered poetry.   embroidered satin.   cool, hazy mornings. tousled hair.  rosewater.  flushed cheeks.distant orchestras.   unfinished marble statues.   cobblestone streets.   loose threads. ink smudged on parchment. tapping fingers.   dust illuminated by sunlight. poison vials.

HAMLET.

shattered glass.  a cluster of fraying ribbons.   unanswered knocks on doors. lingering dampness. white noise. inexplicable drafts.  migraines.   bleeding ears.   the taste of metal.   reflected mirrors. dry, cracked lips.   the sound of tearing paper. fogged windows. memories of dreams.  tarnished silver.   protruding veins.

stand known as red comet that lets him move 3 times faster possible that his father was killed by dio and the like or some shit so similar to canon he’s doing his best to get close to that crowd so he can kill him

˗ˏˋ ˊˎ˗

  “money doesn’t get stale if you’re poor–” and have years worth of DEBT, too, really keeps one’s wallet going. a run for it’s money, pun definitely intended.

   “with a lot of money, you can do really COOL stuff too. like give big tips, buy homeless folks food or a hotel room, that sorta thing. i wouldn’t upgrade from my shabby little apartment, i like it like that. but i’d get rid of my debt before moving on to helping others– you know ?”

     maybe that was just HER, but really, it was what you did with the money that counted.

           “    that  makes  sense  .   “

            WHAT  ELSE  could  be  said  ?  the  things  she  had  mentioned  slipped  his  mind  ,  tumultuous  thoughts  filling  the  space  where  mundane  ones  should  have  taken  hold  .  he  tapped  gloved  fingers  against  his  chin  ,  a  further  reply  escaping  him  .  perhaps  char  needed  to  reconnect  with  those  that  hadn’t  lived  a  life  like  the  one  he  had  .  vengeance  could  only  take  a  person  so  far  in  personal  interaction  .