imperishable.

“Please, come with me.”

“You’re always number one.”

“I can’t do this.”

“I won’t let you.”

“Maybe I’m just crazy.”

“I’m not even sorry.”

“Honestly, just stop it.”

“I believe in you.”

“Don’t be an ass.”

“Who were you with?”

“Please talk to me.”

“I can’t trust you.”

“I need you, though.”

“Don’t be fucking rude.”

“Is that my shirt?”

“So, it was you.”

“I need to go.”

“Just stay with me.”

“You can trust me.”

“Alright, I love you.”

“I’m sorry, but no.”

“Will you help me?”

“You’re a terrible cook.”

“Can you shut up!?”

“You love me, right?”

“I really need you.”

“I don’t love you.”

“I’m not doing this.”

“I really need you.”

“You don’t want me.”

“Let me help you.”

“You’re such a bitch.”

“I can’t do this.”

“You think you’re funny?”

“Hey, I said stop!”

“Will you marry me?”

“Wanna go out sometime?”

“I don’t want this.”

“You always this quiet?”

“Are you fucking insane!?”

“I don’t want you.”

“I’m not wearing that.”

“Sorry, were you sleeping?”

“This was never right.”

“You look really tired.”

“I’m out of here.”

          Within the confines of a series of structured bars, several restraints clench at exposed ankles and makeshift binds pull against white appendages that are pinned to the firebrick wall behind.

          The divine messenger finds herself trembling despite her best efforts to stay courageous, doing everything in her power to drown out lecherous snickers of how fitting it is for a small dove to be kept in a cage. She could still recall the sudden sensation of powerful jaws clamping down on the ends of her wings, having no hesitation in forcefully dragging her off into the darkness.

          She hadn’t even had an opportunity to fight back before she’d been rendered unconscious. There was a dull throbbing at the base of her temples – a reminder of whatever blunt object had been used earlier. She raises quivering fingers to the base of her skull in an attempt to soothe the pain, but the sudden sound of something on the opposite side of the room instead startles her and directs her attention away from the discomfort.

“ ------ Aerith!” Perhaps it was Cordelia’s cheerful call that frightened the little angel. ( The reason for her appearance in this weird place would be similar - snapping jaws and dark whispers ruthlessly rounded her up here. ) She trotted towards the cage in hop-skip, accompanied by the silent ringing of the thin chain wrapped tightly around her ankle. ( For such an unpredictable god as herself, Styx obtained a very long leash, enough for her to reach Aerith on the other side of the room. Yet it is too short for comfort - the dreaded goddess stops a plenty of steps away from the other. )

She leans forward and rests her palms on the cage, her appallingly thin fingers curled around the bars. Once soft and gentle hands are dried almost to the bone, strange incantations in a stranger foreign languages thickly cover the skin from her wrists to her elbows. ( Without water, she cannot summon Scylla and Charybdis anymore. Without Scylla and Charybdis, she is completely helpless. Whoever did this, they know what they’re doing. )

modern mythology: styx (Στυξ) / personification of hatred

“… She isn’t?”

The mention of the reincarnation of Harmonia was the only thing that made him respond. Golden eyes hifted from the clear blue skies that blessed Elysium to the bluenette beside him.

The whole reason he had come to Elysium was to see Lacie. He swore that she said she would be here, guess he mistook the date or something.