#diamondstrung

“YOU... YOU’RE NOT ONE OF THE UNDEAD, AND I’M NOT SEEING THINGS, AM I? I’M PRETTY SURE I SAW YOU GET MURDERED,” faustus starts, staring at the thief he had traveled with through kelille. fucking haunting. it might be... did the doom create doppelgangers now? he frowned.

“IF YOU WALK OUTSIDE, I’M NOT LETTING YOU IN,” he said absently, poking around their larder for something to eat. 

“THESE TABLE ARRANGMENTS ARE FUCKING HIDEOUS. THEY MUST BE FROM YOUR SIDE OF THE FAMILY. THE SIGHT OF THEM MAKES ME SICK. WE SHOULD GET RID OF THEM,” he grumbled, resigning himself to a dinner with the mrs. no doubt they had both resigned themselves to such a gargantuan task. 

“C’MON, ELENA,” faustus says, standing over the body. “HE PULLED A KNIFE ON ME. YOU KNOW I WOULDN’T LIE TO YOU.” he frowns at the city guardswoman, and he brushes his hood away from his face, revealing his dark hair (that needs washing) and his dark eyes. his kohl has smeared even more from battle, and now, he has stinging eyes and blood on his hands, preventing him from wiping it away.

that urge started to burn inside of her again. halitus hall was crowded, so militant sought out those who would understand the urges she felt best. their eyes were the same, except millie’s were icy and the other’s were like molten lava. yet, of all the people chatting in the hall (or arguing in the hall), she knew of millie’s struggles the most.