for muses who snarl instead of speak, who want too much, who feel too deeply, and who don’t always stay human

🦷 — “your teeth are sharp. were they always like that?”

🩸 — “you’re bleeding and you don’t even care.”

🦴 — “you’re looking at me like prey. or a challenge.”

🐾 — “stop pacing. you’re making the room feel hunted.”

🫀 — “your heartbeat just changed. what set you off?”

🐺 — “don’t growl at me unless you mean it.”

👁️ — “your eyes aren’t supposed to glow like that.”

🔥 — “you’re losing control. let me help or get out of the way.”

🕯️ — “the scent on you… it’s not human.”

🐍 — “coil around me all you want. i’m not running.”

💀 — “tell me what you’re trying so hard not to become.”

🦴🩸 — “i don’t fear you. should i?”

🐾🔥 — “you want to bite me. don’t pretend otherwise.”

🦷💋 — “careful— i bite back.”

"I think it's easy to get into your own head about your past mistakes, but... obsessing over what you might have done differently keeps you from repeating them in the future."

Heaven knows how differently her life may have turned out had she kept a more careful eye or trusted the right people.

"If I may ask... what good does reducing a body to ash do? Outside of... disposal? I've... I've heard that they're usually put back where they came from as though they hadn't been bothered in the first place."

Their views are night and day different; she sees the dead as a sum of their parts, as something for the taking, whether for her own gain or as a science project. How else can she see the intricacies of the human body in fine detail, if not for the contribution of the dead?

Nevertheless, they're still equal; whether they kill for amusement or curiosity, they're both murderers. It gives her some sort of sick comfort in knowing she isn't alone.

They're more than polar opposites. Juliette only works under the guise of night, careful and discreet, and this woman - Cassidy Lim - seems to encourage anyone to dare and try to stop her. Juliette tries to rationalize her killing by telling herself it's for the greater good, and the dead can't complain anyway.

"Juliette," she replies quietly, hesitating to take the hand as it's thrust out to her. "Juliette Walker. It's... nice to meet you, too."

She looks down at the body at her feet, eyebrows knit together as a thought crosses her mind.

She pinches the bridge of her nose, exhaling sharply. It isn't fair that her frustration is vented as though Shy is the culprit for convenience sake. Relax, Juliette.

"If I may ask... what good does reducing a body to ash do? Outside of... disposal? I've... I've heard that they're usually put back where they came from as though they hadn't been bothered in the first place."

Their views are night and day different; she sees the dead as a sum of their parts, as something for the taking, whether for her own gain or as a science project. How else can she see the intricacies of the human body in fine detail, if not for the contribution of the dead?

Nevertheless, they're still equal; whether they kill for amusement or curiosity, they're both murderers. It gives her some sort of sick comfort in knowing she isn't alone.