#nightingale.

Hello moon petals!

NIGHTINGALE. ISABELE ÀUREA DE AZEVEDO   —   28,  W.

Hypnosis: cause heightened focus and suggestibility (+) people are more prone to giving you whatever you desire (+) works for as long as you maintain eye contact (-) will not work on a person who has ill feelings toward you (-) effect is strongest on people you already have made a positive impression on.

HISTORY

cw: death

IN THE END, YOU WERE THE ONLY ONE LEFT TO SAVE. Seared in your mind are their faces, twisted into grotesque imitations of your family; their voices, calling through the rain and yourself frozen in fear having feigned ever hearing them at all. In the morning after the destruction, you’re held in the arms of a distant relative. They smooth the edges of your hair and take your hand in theirs — they called you their miracle. To them and many others you were an idol of hope. The sound of your sorrow carried itself across an ocean and made a name for itself in honor of your misery. Your voice was captivating and dark and unraveled the tangled heart strings of men. You were naive then, conflating purpose with importance, genius for luck. A poster girl for the new dawn, death was worth the price of admission. It seemed imminent then that when the faceless came for you, extended an offer in gratitude, knelt on the ground you sauntered so assuredly on, the line between martyrdom and godhood blurred. The world would be changed for the better once you were finished with it. This was your first mistake, the second would come just as easily.

It is the fate of all people to want what they cannot possess — to desire an end and a completion. You are restless, plagued by the worry of an ever decaying legacy that anoints your name. It was a mistake, your desire, and you are beset by the misfortune that has become you. That is, if man so easily died for the idea of you, then men would kill to have you. In this you have become a reason for their end, the only thing worth dying for. This is the prophecy you have been made to fulfill: a songstress touched by the muses to wane man’s heart from the myth of the world, to remind them of some higher destiny they must one day fall prey to. No one will escape their fate, but you could make the journey so much easier, you would become a temptation beyond resistance. In your voice, your touch, your glance, there’s a calling of languid intoxication and it lingers like loathing. Most tragic of all is the way your existence has become synonymous with the finality of others, as though your desire was never enough to fill the body alone.

CONNECTIONS

LYREBIRD﹒ BUT I’LL CUT OFF MY HAND BEFORE I EVER REACH FOR YOU AGAIN.

There is a structure to all things holy and LYREBIRD has desecrated every pillar on which it stands. It begins with a poem, an innocuous piece of paper you tuck away behind your ear where it will never see the light of day. It is your soul made transparent, and as you unfurl it for LYREBIRD to understand you do not notice the way their eyes seem to gleam; the way their hand takes it from yours so gently before they press it to their lips. You should have known. You have always been a means to an end, a way to extract purpose without ever having to take accountability. Still, you did not expect betrayal to come so quickly nor from the only one you have have trusted to see you. It’s only when the sound of your soul is distorted by someone else’s voice that you realize they did not know you at all.

FALCONET﹒  YOU CAN BE NOTHING AND STILL BREATHING

Is good a thing you inherit, or a thing you are? All your life you’ve strived to be virtuous, to do what no person has done before, and perhaps in another life this might have been possible. Here though, you are doomed by your fatal encounter. LYREBIRD might have been the one to shove you in a coffin, but it is FALCONET you have to blame for burying you alive. It’s his insistence, his willingness to help burn bridges that has you toeing the line between good and evil — wrong and right. He shatters the world for you and the first act of revenge is done on your behalf. It was a mistake trusting him, to believe that his way of solving things might be better than yours, and now you pay the price for this decision. His impersonation of someone repentant is despicable, his apologies even more so. You know he wants your forgiveness, would do most anything to earn it back, you will not give it to him.

STARLING ﹒ INSIDE ME, SOMETHING SEETHES

Of all the dark and dangerous things which follow you, STARLING is by far the worst of them. Her cruelty is not violent or treacherous, it is the secret smothering of your own morals. A whisper in your ear, the reflection of your own face — she turns you away from the light in order to see better in the dark. It is an impossible task to deny her, an even more difficult thing to do when you are stuck in your own indecision; and while you hate the thing you’ve become she makes the fall feel so easy. GOLDEN PHEASANT warned you about the devastation that follows her, but all shadows have their temptations and to you it offers a muse you had all but forgotten. STARLING reaches out her hand, invites you to join her down the rabbit hole. The only thing left to do is jump.

* headcanon free-for-all  [ACCEPTING!]

✯ which three traits define your muse?

LADYLIKE:  appropriate for or typical of a well-bred, decorous woman or girl.

ELEGANT:  pleasingly graceful and stylish in appearance or manner.