#monarchvictim

            ( VEXATION, THY NAME IS MARK FISCHBACH. )

     FRESH  off of a tumultuous confrontation teeming with barbed threats and seething enmity, immediate withdrawal from the quarrel and subsequent isolation had become an attractive means of remedy. Further desecration to their relationship would have only made his position worse, compromising the level of trust he so obstinately campaigned for in spite of the tenacious rebellion he repeatedly tolerated from his host. Every word of insurgence and blight on his character only served to fuel the fires of  indignation  below the skin, festering like an angry wound that never received the opportunity to heal over. Reduced to no more than a sour expression or the open criticism of a sneer, his human counterpart remained utterly ignorant of how many times the inhuman entity had come close to  unhinged  assault. Empty promises, an unsubstantiated willingness to cooperate, and a dogged aversion to partake in civil discussion had all become an irritant part of the routine. Had his own staunch sense of determination been anything less than what it was, he would've surely written Mark off as a lost cause -- but it  wasn't, and he  wouldn't.

                                       (     WHY      WON'T      YOU      BREAK      ?                                 WHY CAN'T YOU SEE OUR POTENTIAL ?   )

     Another attempt would have to be made at a later date to  SALVAGE  his reputation for the time being, some distance was better for them both. Vanishing from Mark's apartment in a moment's brevity and thrust somewhere else in the next,  closed eyes and deep breaths that swelled lungs to the brim sought to bring some equilibrium to the fury bubbling inside. The feeling of his form ripping apart to unleash a dull scream of rage and reveal the turmoil beneath didn't escape his notice  (IT NEVER DID)  but no effort was made to screen its flickering appearance. Raw emotion had already begun to dig its claws inside of him and tear him anew upon his departure, distorting his presence with jumbled imagery as an  ALLURING  voice of reason cajoled him to temporarily leave this reality behind. He didn't need to, he could manage the fury on his own.

       (  I  AM  BETTER  THAN  ALL  OF  THIS. )

Oh! What kind of host was he? Let him fix that and put a towel over the man’s caved in skull. Spare the girl any further…inconveniences. As if to cover the gore from her delicate gaze would compromise for the horror she just witnessed.

Of course. Easy. It was just one dark comedic joke.

“There you go, darlin’.” He spoke adamantly.  Awfully pleased with his quick wit. “Ain’t no problem that can’t be solved. Just gotta use that pretty head of yours.”

OLD MEME

“Hey, hey, c’mon now. That’s no way to think, girly.” Fingers gently he lifted her chin, grinning eyes seeking hers. “Happiness ain’t something that can be stifled. Its the little things that get the job done. Trust me. I should know.”

♗   IN   CHASE’S   STYLE  !