Kingdom of Nerdom

The life of a fangirl is hard stuff 🥺😔😪

Hours ago your father died in your arms. The blood will not leave your hands no matter how hot the water. The markings won’t either, but you would never kid yourself about those.

You remember Noma told you, sitting in the barracks, that tattoos are the body’s way of giving up on expelling toxins. Something about being unable to break down the ink. You think about your father’s blood on your hands. The soap stings where Michael whipped you, and it’s all you can do to focus on that.

He appeared and disappeared all so quickly; typical. Leaving you with a photo of your dead mother and and a body that isn’t yours. The markings snake up and around you, hugging you as if to say, you are your father’s legacy, you are your father’s son. You never knew your father to be kind. It makes sense he would leave you with a legacy like his own. Again, you consider leaving town, leaving everything behind. A pilgrimage to death. An abandonment. Your father’s markings on your skin.

Paul Bettany as Archangel Michael