BELLS OF HELL
MUSICIAN. W. ( 29-32 ) Yada Villaret.
HISTORY
THE WEED WHICH THRIVES IN ADVERSITY WILL ONE DAY BECOME SOMETHING POISONOUS, SOMETHING ANNIHILATING. You remember what it was like to never exist - a voiceless child that could not be heard or seen. Even in silence, you were only permitted to grovel and make worship to a mother you did not call your own. Your father only ever appeared in name, between pages scrawled messily in fine print. This shell of a body was not yours to do with as you pleased. You were simply never enough - not for your family, not for society, and perhaps the nothingness of your bygone days wasn’t even enough for yourself. Under the moonlight, your reflection mirrors a stranger. The revered legacy of your name and everything that you were born into is met with spit and a scowl.
With decadence and luxury dictated by the regimental traditions of nobility and an undesired bloodline, you grew a temper that threatened to crack from your sharpened fingernails. You concluded that there had to be another way of life: one where you would awake from your quiet slumber, where your colorless days would end. You knew you never wanted this, not this suffering for the price of everything you could be. In the moments between aimless wandering and unbearable loneliness, you simply screamed. You had forgotten after so many years that you too had teeth, and that you too, could eat. There was nothing beautiful about the sound that parted from your snarled lips. A pause. Then came relief. Finally, they’d hear the ugliness of everything.
CONNECTIONS
QUEEN OF PLAGUE & SUNKEN WITCH ⌱ THREE BEAUTIES MADE OUT OF PORCELAIN BONES
Under the tutelage of a woman pirate, the three of you were picked up as her strays. This bond chains you together in your shared past. QUEEN OF PLAGUE who was born to rule, was a naive little princess and though you shared nobility in your blood, you despised each other. Her arrogance stemmed from her birthright and lineage, believing in her leadership based on her blood. But you had unlearned the pompous ways of your restrictive noble life, repainting and recreating yourself until your past was discarded. You found far more companionship with SUNKEN WITCH and had come to love her. But she grew shallow and vapid in her desires to accumulate wealth. And above all her other crimes, she sold you out. What bonded you was your shared loyalty to the woman who found you and made you a part of her crew. When your captain disappeared, all three of you went your separate ways.
CROOKED HOUND ⌱ TO BELIEVE YOU AS ANYTHING GREAT IS A STRETCH OF AN IMAGINATION
It was the status quo of those born and bred into nobility to begin making arrangements for their children to wed. And you were given the unfortunate pleasure of meeting CROOKED HOUND as your betrothed. No amount of intelligence made up for his arrogance. Upon the first discussion and impression, you found him to be an insufferable entitled prince with an ego far beyond anything you could ever tolerate. Being as he was, you could never fathom yourself marrying a husband. Your own mother was proof of the ways in which women were akin to livestock, utilized for breeding and nothing more. Your commonalities were non existence and your infatuations had always been toward your own fairer sex. There was no question when a letter was sent in formal request of the end of your miserable arrangement. You’d choose swifter death than to ever be propositioned again as a possession.
LITTLE MISS RED ⌱ MAKE WORSHIP THROUGH TEETH, THROUGH BLOOD
One of the rare faces you had the privilege of seeing through the royal court, you had found her to be immediately breath-taking. The curiosity had bloomed from your throat as a friendship before it grew into secret intimacies exchanged between the night. It was the first time you had ever loved so tenderly - the way she caressed and kissed you in a manner that was of need. You were young and foolish, pretending and believing in a forever as any dedicated lover would do. But the cracks of the mirror began to protrude through the seams of your tangled relationship. Betrayal was rotten; it was a complex web of lies that you had navigated when her family offered you a deal: test her and if she succeeds, she will live and you will die. Your final act to protect her was by disappearing, exchanging memories you once shared leaving only gaps in between. She looks at you with hatred for what she believed to be abandonment, but never truly understood what you had sacrificed for her to be alive.
BLOOD THIEF ⌱ A BETTER STORY IS SIMPLY ONE LEFT UNWRITTEN
She had made herself remarkable by the art in which she was capable of crafting. Impressions were everything and you knew from the very beginning that she would be a tool to help you climb into the ranks of recognition. You provided her with everything possible out of your own ambition. You thought little of what and who she was and remained naive to her identity and history, believing yourself to be enough to satiate her wildest dreams. You would’ve remained blissfully unaware until she dressed you in flames on your biggest stage and you nearly faced Death itself. It was then that you awoke from your own selfishness and unraveled the threads of her past. You wanted to thank her for the lesson she had taught you and show her your rise from the ashes. With your lips parted, you bellowed the hymns of her countrymen as you committed murder in melodic fashion. Unbeknownst to her, you had found the few friends she had pledged her loyalty to and killed them during the symphonic harmonies of the night. The death of your spirit would sink beneath her flesh as a reminder of her hopelessness. Your grief and hers, who was wrong and who was destroyed? Devastation settles within you both, neither of you are capable of returning to a time before your desolation.
BELLS OF HELL IS OPEN & THEIR SPECIAL STAT IS INTELLIGENCE.
