TEAR ME ASUNDER

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR DEATH, MURDER AND VIOLENCE MENTIONS

    ❛ can you tell us when the curse first manifested ?❜

JUDE PUT THE marshmallow cereal he’d been inspecting back on the shelf ( free toy inside! ) reluctantly. he did really want a tiny plastic racoon, but it looked like there was only a one in six chance of getting it and he was less keen on the other characters. anyway, they were here for a reason. “i’m glad i bumped into you,” he added, running a hand over all the shiny boxes in the pasta aisle - so many shapes, he loved those tiny bow tie ones -  “i’ve got no idea what sort of flowers you get for someone who has just been branded by a divine being … you think thad likes sunflowers?” 

no matter how well she knew thad, ella was still unsure as to how to approach the ‘divine contact’ event that had unfolded recently. in her head head, each plausible explanation, each conspiracy, was less favorable than the previous one. of course, she had anticipated some deific interference but not to this extent, not when the database had sold themselves as a means to monitor these kinds of happenings. 

    but for now, ella was -- above all else -- thad was alive and recovering. 

  the brunette smiled at the other. if she weren’t feeling so troubled by the branding’s implications, she would’ve laughed heartily. but all ella could manage was breathing out a chuckle. 

   “flowers sound like a nice gesture,” a shrug. “if only i knew. do you think he might associate the yellow of the sunflowers to the bright light that engulfed the room, though?”  

𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙰 𝚅𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚃𝚈 𝙾𝙵 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙾𝙽𝚂, cas has always felt a disconnect between himself and the database. dislike is, certainly, part of that — it’s a self-inflicted distance, perpetuated by the sour taste left in his mouth every time the bland-looking buildings remind him of his military career. he tolerates the tests, the questions, the ever-looming presence in his life; it’s part of being cursed. he understands that. but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. 

unlike some of the other people living here, though, the database can’t really do much for him. his curse is, in its entirety, carried out by him and him alone; if harm is brought about, it’s something that’s been mandated by the gods themselves. that, or it’s been manifested as an unfortunate side effect of what they’ve deemed necessary. the prophecies ruin him and give him purpose, all at once — they’ve taken so much from him that they’re the only thing he has left; without a quest to complete, he feels aimless, unworthy. though he’s technically employed in between quests, cas never feels quite so static as when he’s stuck in the town surrounding the database. still, his job gives him something to do, in the attempt to keep his mind busy and the memories at bay. 

as he’s addressed, cas turns a bit suddenly, caught slightly off guard. “ that’s me, ” he says in reply, expression open and curious. he has nothing to hide, but it’s not the most common of questions. “ once or twice, yeah. just small stuff, though, like fixing a few cracks in the sidewalk so they didn’t have to replace the whole thing. i’m sure they have their own people to call if things go awry in there. ”

the young woman let out a soft sigh. of course, caspian was not to blame. if anything, ella would’ve been surprised if the database had, in fact, let him come that close to the facility and its systems. ella nodded to caspian’s response. but afterward, once he’d answered her question, she felt slightly embarrassed she’d so much as thought about it. 

    “yeah, they probably do. they've probably got specific people who’re all working under some confidentiality agreement,” the brunette shrugged. maybe she owed him some honesty -- after all, she’d been the one coming to ask. “i was asking because... well, a lot of things about that spike of activity they recorded recently seems off. i figured if anyone would know about preventing accidents and maintenance, it could be you.” 

  she thought for a moment after she’d spoken. the curiosity about his case and his circumstances lingered at the back of her head. but as she glanced at him, cheeks ever so tinted pink, she remained quiet. it didn’t take much to figure out any form of abrupt intrusiveness would be far from well-met. 

  part of ella felt ungrateful as she gave in to the urge to pry. but most times, she wondered if others were as curious to know more about the database’s operation as she was. it seemed as though every single aspect of this initiative was meant to appear clear-cut and straightforward, subduing any whim to question it in the process. cold and calculating of an approach as it may be, she would opt for harsh truth over misleading reassurance if asked. 

ever since news about the divine contact had broken out and reached her, ella had begun unearthing all questions she’d deliberately kept at the back of her mind. aside from her clear worry for thad, the skepticism and unease that’d once only existed as mere sparks inside of her threatened to be fanned into flames. her pleas were like an innocent child’s, aimed at the database and earning her nothing in response. there was certain helplessness, but above that, an incomprehension, to her questions -- still unsure as to whether or not to reach out to the database themselves, ella didn’t know who to ask all the questions nagging at her. what had happened in the D4 building, and was it bound to occur again? she didn’t want to face the fact that the database’s claims and promises were more nuanced than her idealism had painted them to be. 

   not knowing who else to ask, she sought caspian. admittedly, she knew he was affiliated to the database to the same extent as she was ( which... wasn’t much ). she knew of him indeed, even when they hadn’t interacted much. given his current job around the database area, ella figured he could have some insight ( though, she didn’t want to get her hopes too high, already having gotten an idea of the database’s secrecy given their record ). 

   “you’re caspian, right?” she asked, half-sneaking up on him as she spotted him.  hopefully he wouldn’t mind her. “i heard you’re doing some repair work around the area. i know this is such a weird question, but has... has the database contacted for your help fixing anything?” 

in a place where all rooms looked identical to each other, and the sense of time seemed to lose part of its reason, it was easy -- at least, for ella -- to feel as though she lived in a bubble. an immaculate-looking, unfamiliar bubble constantly threatening to burst and combust. before the database, the line between order and chaos was fine, but visible still. it was as easy to cross it as it was to ella. but here, everything seemed different, like a different realm outside what they’d all known once. 

   and when she thought of it, that was part of the reason she’d been hesitant to engage with others too. because her experiences, prior to all of this, felt like they’d existed in a vacuum too. ever since the discovery of other ones cursed, there was some solace to be found in compartmentalizing.  

   with adelaide, the urge to let her in always seemed to win ella over, but rarely ever prompted anything else. there was a unique sense of ease and understanding that come about whilst around her, something melancholic yet serene. but, as intrigued as she felt by the other, her attitude in adelaide’s presence was still riddled with tentativeness. 

   “hey,” she greeted with a smile, as was the custom. she “was that... the new york skyline you were painting the other day?”

he didn’t like to play the what if game. thaddeus had gotten pretty good at understanding and accepting the complexities of his life, despite hating most of them, for many years. but ella.. she was a million what if’s wrapped into one. and was hard not to walk down that road, not to imagine what they could’ve been if things had gone right. thad was at least smart enough to know that it would have been physically impossible, but he liked to imagine. he liked to imagine it so much so that he wasn’t totally convinced that he was standing in front of the real ella, first assuming that she was merely a figment of his imagination.

it took him a second to process the fact that she had asked him a question. “i, uh, got here a few weeks ago. what–what about you ? ” thad stammered, running his hands through his hair in an attempt to look much cooler than he was actively feeling. it was too late – he had already succumbed to the awkwardness.

“you look–you look good, el.” it kind of just slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. this was dangerous–literally. they couldn’t resume what they had previously had, or one of them was likely to perish. after years of frat boy training, thaddeus had taught himself how to avoid falling in love in an effort to remain noncommittal. but all of that had immediately evaporated the first time he’d seen her.

prior to this time seeing thad, ella had forced herself not to think of loneliness too much -- it’d be hypocrisy to do so. she knew that, while the database subjects were not all strangers amongst themselves, that others would be feeling prone to melancholy too. she’d come here and was staying by choice, so to overall think her emotional anguish to be both grave and/or arbitrary would be erroneous. 

    but the thing is, it wasn’t home she missed. her concept of home was a house rarely lived in out of the fear of the feds catching up to them, it was blood-splattered floors and walls saturated with flashy decor to distract from the house that that place was not a home. there were never feelings of belonging or warmth associated with a place in particular. the closest match to a home that she’d formed was thad. it was no wondered she’d been so insistent to run away with him -- because home was to be found with him, in whichever bleak corner of the world they ended up. 

    now, as she looked at him, things didn’t seem so bad anymore. maybe the unnerving white walls and doors locked to them could become a home -- with him around, it was all enough. 

    “a week or two, give or take -- can’t keep track of time in here. i haven’t gone out much ever since i arrived, it took ‘em some time to get my information and all. but it’s... it’s great to see you, thad,” the brunette smiled.

  she chuckled, and this first laughter in weeks tasted sweet and light. “you think? maybe it’s this place, more of a spa than a database,” ella joked-- “you look good too, but that’s no news.” then, almost instinctively, she reached out and hugged him. as worn down as she was by her bitterness, she was thankful now. 

The brazen show of vitriol brought a smile to January’s lips—she may not have shown it as much, but she was in full agreement. Gods were vicious things, grown fat on the praise, adoration and wealth of their adoring petitioners. Her eyes flickered upward to a clear sunny day, no clouds, nor the scent of rain present. They were allowed this, maybe, but enough bootlickers were here that she held her tongue. How conspiratorial.

“I’ve done some things,” her voice caught, and she took a breath. This was never going to get easier. “Well, safe to say that I’m little better than the pettiness that the divinity shows sometimes, and I wouldn’t put it past them.” The curses were supposed to be a damning of the highest degree, or the whims of petty immortals looking for amusement. Either way, she didn’t have enough insight into the mind of the gods to deal with this. “I think—well, someday, someone will take magic to the level of divinity, maybe right these wrongs done unto us.” January felt the sun on her skin, the heat of it becoming more apparent. She pursed her lips. “Someday.”

ella’s features relaxed, and now she looked at january with her sense of serenity regained. but as collected as she seemed now, listening to the other had sent a particular realization dawning on her. she felt a little ache in her heart, like a splinter pulled from tender flesh: she wished she and january had met under different circumstances. looking back at her life, ella had found she'd rarely lacked anything, except compassion. had she had a friend like january, maybe she could’ve endured long enough to see herself spared from her impulses, and thus, from the god’s wrath. 

     “i figured you might say that. thanks for the honesty, as much as it hurts,” ella shrugged, yet offered the other woman an appreciative smile. “hmm. i’d love to see it -- to live long to witness the gods take back our curses.”

frankie never worried about being intrusive. she didn’t concern herself with whether or not she was being rude. it was confidence to the point of arrogance, a lack of caring about what others thought to the point of only thinking selfishly. it’s never been too much of a problem; most people didn’t stick around long enough to take offense or tell frankie if she was in the wrong. the most pushback she’s gotten has been from other people around the database, but she didn’t mind it too much. she still thought she was right most – if not all – of the time.

“i never said anything about the database,” she replied, cocking her head at narrowing her eyes at ella. out of everyone, frankie figured she minded the database the least. she worked for them a little, after all. “it’s a small town, but there are plenty of others things people could burn down if they chose to. sometimes people just do that sort of thing because she can.” she’s set off enough accidental apartment fires to know that to be the case. 

she shrugged. “an apocalypse, maybe. but not the apocalypse. one’s preventable, the other isn’t. i’m sure someone will have something figured out. doesn’t mean there won’t be a little chaos, even if the world doesn’t end.”

ella let out an exhale, straightening her back and looking away from the other for a moment. maybe she was getting ahead of herself -- frankie was right, ella’s leads didn’t add up with the vision’s flashes. the prophecy hadn’t even been her own, and she couldn’t say her curse had ever entailed a prophetic aspect. here she was, so eager to wash her hands off of the whole affair that she’d began eagerly filling in the blanks herself. 

   heat rising up to her cheeks, ella nodded. she shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose with her index and thumb. “you’re right. you’r right, i--” god, was it shameful to admit defeat. she’d stop herself and leave it at that. “but if it were something else, if it were an unimportant place, then... why would it appear on the prophecy? d’you think it’d be worth to read this much into it in the case it was referring to something else, something less important?” 

   the other’s comment got ella thinking, but all she could manage was exhale a somewhat-surprised laugh. doesn’t mean there won’t be a little chaos, even if the world doesn’t end. “you work with the database, don’t you? what kind of ‘little chaos’ could this be referring to, then?” 

     ── ronan has never cared for prophecies. little good comes from knowing what’s coming, he’s found ; he’s been facing futures for as long he’s known ANYTHING, and the best it’s done is made him tired, cynical. still, there are bits of this latest vision that have been sticking to him, catching in his memory even as he’s tried to smooth past them. blood on someone’s hands, fresh. none of it is exactly a good omen, though that part of it he can’t help but dwell on, turning the image of it over in his mind until he’s worn himself out with it.

there’s little to do on campus though he’s got nowhere better to be, biding time on a bench outside one of the many locked doors that litter the place. there’s some quiet part of him that’s set himself there on PURPOSE, a precaution of sorts. if the blood is going to be his, he’d rather not be chased down on his own. at least the people there recognize him. besides, he’s been half-hoping to catch someone who knows something, anything, more than what they’ve been given in that spare message. earlier he’d seen a few employees leave the building beside him— yet, as always with the those he’s known through the database, they’d been elusive when he had anything to ask. and so now he waits, aimlessly, trying to shake out his tension by bouncing his leg slightly, holding a hand in a fist tight enough that he can feel his own fingernails bite at his skin. ronan feels coiled tight, everywhere.

“ i don’t think there’s anyone in there, anymore. ”  he starts up, snatching at the opportunity for distraction, warning as someone else approaches ; surely he’s not the only one of the others searching for better answers. “ no one’s got anything to SAY around here, anyway, if you were looking to ask. left us in the fucking dark. ”

when the information of the prophecy spread -- and it did so much like gossip in a small town: like wildfire -- ella felt herself quiver under fear’s hand. maybe her parents had done right by not raising her on lore and mysticism -- tales of arrogance, mercilessness, and wrath would’ve such impressionable girl have nightmares. but that was the point, wasn’t it? behind all gospel were a warning and pursuit of fear. because who’d manage to show the slightest bit of defiance when afraid?  

   ella’s fear morphed into a strange variation of uncertainty. she thought of herself, naturally, but also of january, of thad, of those who -- like her own perception of herself -- had had no hand to play in the assignation of their ill fates.  looming around in her head, lied a plea: please, don’t let it be my fault. please. ironic how the pariah dared pray now. 

   once the initial shock had subdued, and that the need for answer puzzled her less than the lack of context they’d been given, she didn’t know what to make of the prophecy overall. if the database was resorting to fearmongering, if it was opting to keep them in check by allowing them only crumbs of this kind of information, then it was working ---- at least, it was doing so on her. 

  “what do you mean? did you come looking for them too?”

  the young woman should’ve known the intricacies of prophecies wouldn’t be revealed to her simply by demanding it was done so. she frowned at the other’s warning -- while very neutral, straightforward, his message didn’t sit well with her. 

   “maybe we’re just not asking the right questions,” ella replied, though she knew the other was right; she simply didn’t want to acknowledge it and admit defeat. “maybe they’ll be willing to elaborate on it once they realize how unnecessarily confused that made us feel. what do they gain from making us all.. angsty?” 

The circumstances weren’t ideal, but it felt somewhat comforting to see a familiar face. January wasn’t that sentimental, all sentiment had been burnt out of her heart when she’d done what she did; but it did feel good to think about some good she’s done, even if it did lead to nothing. “They can vaguely remember me this time, so that’s progress. Or just divine luck.” She did nothing to hide the little bit of irritation in her voice—she was afforded that, at least.

At her question, January hummed and shrugged. She didn’t trust the database as far as she could magically fling them, and she could launch them a few miles from where she was standing. “It’s easy to get our hopes up, I think, though with enough divine intervention, I suppose that one of us could strike out—though I hardly think that’s going to happen.” Gods were petty things, even pettier than mortals. The shine of divinity did nothing to curb their worst impulses, if not mostly aggravate them further. “But who knows? I couldn’t even pierce your curse, so I don’t have a clue myself.”

“divine luck...” ella laughed, clearly sarcastically. whichever room she’d once held, specifically meant to house her respect for the gods, was gone and taken over by her own bitterness. it made her feel heavy and tainted, and by whichever vulgar god’s name was she tired of feeling like this. “is there such thing as that nowadays? i can’t imagine those fuckers caring about us enough to spare us some luck.” 

   there she’d gone, shooting off at the mouth, almost sticking her hand into a fan. “sorry for snapping. you’re the one who deserves putting up with me the least.”

frankie was never one to let go of a puzzle. most of the time, it was a good thing. it made her good at school and good at her job. but it was also her greatest weakness – once she started, she just couldn’t stop. she had tunnel vision. the end result wasn’t even the most important thing; it was the path that got her to it. maybe that wasn’t the best, and maybe there was no way to tell what exactly she’d put into the world and where, but those things hadn’t caught up to her. not yet, at least.

she sighed at ella’s response. “i mean, who else would light it? one of the yeehaw locals? fat chance. fire’s pretty good for heat. and light. and burning down things you don’t like. just to name a few.” she counted the uses off on her fingers. frankie didn’t know what to think of anyone yet, but she certainly didn’t know what to think of ella. she just seemed so…nice. frankie shrugged. “guess it’s noteworthy to someone.” she cast a glare up at the ceiling, intending it to somehow transcend the concrete and make its way to the gods. “the touch thing though…a god’s touch? human touch? you’d have to touch someone to draw blood, i guess. hm….”

unlike frankie, ella disliked puzzles. growing up in an environment coated with secrecy, any chances at transparency she’d been granted were relatively little. there was always something she didn’t know, something being kept from her. ella was also curious, though she did great at hiding it. because curiosity, ella fathomed, could be misunderstood for intrusiveness. yes, intrusiveness was always ultimately hushed, and it got her nowhere. all in all, the annoyance she derived of thinking she was entitled to information and being deliberately barred from accessing it, combined with her own inquisitiveness made a bad match. 

    she knew all she’d accomplish trying to solve this was give herself a headache. and yet, here she was, contributing with her input with uncharacteristic freedom. 

   the brunette let the other’s words play around, sinking in her head and making ripples. “what do you mean ‘don’t like’? are you saying one of us would set fire to these buildings because of got hatred against the database? isn’t it too.. early to tell. so far they haven’t done much -- fair enough, they’ve kept us in the dark about a lot, but a fire... i mean...” there was some strange expression flashing in her eyes, close to disbelief. 

    “look, conspiracy theories left aside, all of this combined sounds like... i don’t know, like an apocalypse were to ensue.” now her words were laced with the traces of fear and uncertainty. “don’t you think there’d be measures taken to prevent just that?” 

@violencebred​

thad didn’t like to think about his life prior to the database. he could reminisce about easy friday nights in the sigma chi house, sure, but if he dwelled on those thoughts, everything surrounding such a memory evaporated, until there was nothing left but an isolated cloud of pain. it was a familiar feeling, the kind that he tried to bury underneath his tongue while it screamed for attention. that was how he felt when he thought of ella, and the foolish infatuation that had blinded them both, only resulting in bloodshed. 

he didn’t know if he had truly been in love with the girl. maybe that’s why he was spared from her curse. but whatever it was–it had felt like what thaddeus thought love was supposed to feel like. it was close. dangerously close. like a leap across a six-foot gap between two plunging cliffs that he would still take in a heartbeat should she give him the opportunity. maybe that’s why his pulse raised so damn fast as he navigated the jagged corner of another blank hallway within the database’s campus, laying his eyes quickly on his faded lover. “ ella ? ” he called, softly, not expecting her to hear it. this was for him. “ ella ! ” he shouted once more, picking up his pace to meet her in the middle of the corridor. 

it only took a short glance at her to remind himself that he would take that jump, for her love. but thaddeus knew better–he had to know better, if he didn’t want to hurt her. 

despite years of running and hiding, ella had noticed herself being plagued by a vague sense of homesickness now at the database. she knew it couldn’t be attributed to anything in particular, simply the fact that the database’s appearance wasn’t entirely homely, warm or welcoming. but maybe it had to do with the fact that she felt isolated, despite being surrounded by people under similar circumstances.  as recent as her arrival had been, she couldn’t shake off the feeling of being lost at sea. aimless and conflicted, she ultimately reminded herself that her residence there was on her own accord. the overthinking was thus nonsensical, she reasoned, childish even. this was simply her head and her heart conspiring to fill in a silence she’d never really gotten used to. 

  in the face of uncertainty, she’d turned to thad. he had been the one silver lining in her life, but ever since her curse, ella felt flooded with dread when thinking of him. she was damned, and now so was he. her heart fell into a void, as it naïvely wished that this damnation could be done for before te wretched entity latched onto her caught up to him. the guilt was always there ----- ; but wasn’t guilt simply love, forlorn and tainted past recognition by one’s own destructive hand? 

   the question remained in her head, unanswered; she couldn’t pay mind to such morbid inquiries when he was so close, calling out to her. “thad?” his name was spoken as a question, as if request to the gods to not deceive her with his voice and resemblance. “thad!” she thought of him at the compound, reasoning he was a doomed as she. and she was immensely grateful to see him standing a few feet away, but what did it say about her that she favored delighting in thad’s companionship at the expense of his freedom? 

   “thad!” she grinned the widest she had in what felt like ages. but then her eyes widened. “how--? when-- when did you arrive?”

@violencebred​

It wasn’t every day that January ran into former clients, and it wasn’t every day that she was still in the middle of nowhere serving the gods in a fashion that both felt demeaning and damning but here she was, coffee in hand and surprise clearly on her face. Her curse made it hard to connect, but a child of the Abruzzos wasn’t something you would see on the day-to-day, especially after that nasty business in New York. She wanted help with her curse; and with that she could not help—it only made sense for them to be here in this prison of a place yet again.

“I—huh. Isabella, right?” She looked far less glamorous, but far more composed than when she’d last seen her. Poor girl. “How’d the database work out? Or should I ask how you’re doing, after the last time we’ve met.”

for someone desperate to be extended a helping hand, ella was rarely one to actively seek it. there was no elaborate reason behind it -- she had simply turned to that habit from an early age, enduring through her own wars to prove herself resilient enough. but that was different. that was before the curse, before all her qualms or issues could be dealt with ease. 

    but the one time that she’d sought anyone’s help, she’d sought january’s. she was deeply fascinated by the sorceress’ work; her name, having reached ella’s through the grapevine, was spoken along with mysticism and was unequivocally coated with both intimidation and fascination. 

“𝐇𝐄𝐘, 𝐏𝐒𝐒𝐓, 𝐘𝐎𝐔.” mercy gestured towards the person lingering near her with a frantic finger, looking over her shoulder surreptitiously. her stomach made a sound even louder than her voice: she refused to eat the slop they served here, but she needed to eat something because she was fading. fast. the influencer broke out a twenty dollar bill. 

“could you buy me a ho ho from the vending machine? i’m starving and i can’t go myself. it’s  ⁠— not important why. i’ll let you keep the change.” mercy swallowed hard, trying to keep the ichor in her throat at bay, her hand tremoring at her side. “please.”

every time she did so much as glance around, ella would feel this deep feeling of déja-rêvé. within the compound, each hallway looked like the one adjacent to it. under the artificial lightning and stern design of the facades, it seemed like days would easily blend into each other. hours would melt and overflow into the next one, like watercolor paint. 

   in fact, she had lost track of time, eyes glued to some old magazine, til the other brunette’s calling. ella swiftly looked up, then eyed the bill with a half-raised eyebrow.  

   “a ho ho?” she repeated, slowly taking the bill. the sound of the other’s stomach prompted the following question: “is that enough? ho ho’s are good, but i’m sure they won’t fill you up. want me to get anythin’ else?” 

“alright, let’s see what we’re working with.” although frankie used a plural tense, she wasn’t really in the business of talking to people. instead, she talked at them, unloading her entire stream of consciousness at them whether or not they were actually listening. it was a way to organize her thoughts for later, picking out things she might not have noticed the first two or ten times she read over the notification. she probably wouldn’t figure it out right then and there – she wasn’t that good – but it would be helpful for later.

she swiveled back around in the chair, glasses perched on the edge of her nose as she read back over the message on the computer. she spent some time on the database’s campus, and found that she could get work done there. plus, their computers were nice. “bright white light and burning heat…sounds pretty fucking godly to me. or a fire of some kind. arson? not likely around here, unless it was set by once of us, which is totally possible because of the familiar face thing.” her leg jiggled underneath the desk. the movement made the id card around her neck bounce a little, too. “ancient language? also could be godly. sucks we don’t know what it is, though.” she wasn’t too disappointed at the sparseness of the prophecy –– it would make it all the more satisfying to figure out. “and blood on hands. boring. some people around here are literally destined to die. that’s nothing new. hm…” she trailed off, leaning back in her chair and pushing her glasses back up. “i wonder.”

whether or not to involve herself in curses outside of her own was debate continuously unfolding in ella’s head. she already had her own burden to carry. she felt that, if she let her curiosity get the best of her, if she split herself into little pieces so each could pay attention to a different person’s fate, then there’d be little left keeping her going through her own hell. 

    that being said, the young woman couldn’t feel the fascination and intrigue gnawing at her. she knew she ought to subdue them both. she could hear her father whispering into her ear: girls shouldn’t meddle in others’ business. that didn’t really stop her from rereading every bit of the prophecy information and letting it swim around in her head. it was even more alluring to dive into theorizing considering flashes of the vision could be tied to her or someone close. 

   the brunette exhaled. “do you really think it’d be one of us who’d light a fire? what would a fire be good for, anyway?” then came another thought. “and blood on hands... if it’s nothing new, why would the vision bring attention to it?”