Sharp cheek bones and pointy elbows and lips slightly stained from blackberry juice, that was what she was made of.

Bram brings her blackberries, a mocking smile on his face. She asks if he stole them. He laughs and tells her not to worry about that, miming the act of kissing her on the forehead.

She goes to the cinema and watches any horror movie that’s showing, sitting alone with a bored expression. Her ghosts are far more entertaining.

It’s hard to be scared when your life’s a horror film, a continuing loop of encounters with that that isn’t safe for good little girls.

Brambles catch her black leggings and catch at her hands, scratches form and she remembers that good little girls aren’t the type to wandering through abandoned gardens.

Sugar, spice and everything nice, that’s what little girls are made of. Except she isn’t sweet or spicy, perhaps she is sour, perhaps she is sharp, perhaps she just a little bit tart. 

Everything nice? Ha. The people rotting like trash in various warehouses would most definitely say that she was not ‘everything nice’. Everything twisted, maybe.

She isn’t a good girl. She’s a very bad girl.

@writersloth @strawberryspaceship @rosella1356 @rmorada

“I say we go east!”

"Well, I say we go west!”

“East!”

“West!”

“What are they arguing about?” Alyss asked Nenet, watchng Maurice and Morgan have one of their rare arguments.

“Which way we should sail,” Nenet said without looking up from the scroll she was carefully inspecting with a magnifying glass. Finally, she nodded her head, put it down and stood up.

“If we want to find any clues of what Augustine is after, we’ll need to go south.”

“Why?” the usually mild mannered Maurice was in the mood to argue, it seemed.

“Because in the part where this,” she pointed to the scroll, “mentioned where it might located, it says thuos which is south backwards. Furthermore, it talks about the direction birds fly in the winter. That’s why.”

@writersloth @strawberryspaceship @rosella1356

Maurice watched the bickering duo of Nenet and Morgan in amusement, chuckling when the green eyed woman walked away in a huff and Morgan’s aggravated expression softened slightly.

“Does he know he looks pathetic?” Alyss huffed, perched precariously on the side of the barrel Maurice used as a table.

“Boy’s in love,” Maurice smirked at the black cat. “It’s not everyday you meet a woman who can take down several opponents whilst logically arguing with you.”

@writersloth @strawberryspaceship @rosella1356

by the seaside

The sand was black. The sea wasn’t much better, dark grey waves lapped at the shore, bringing up secrets that were better left undiscovered.

Thana liked it this way. With her white hair and pale skin and silver eyes, she could safely be called the only speck of brightness on the entire beach.

Could it really be called sand though? The sand was made from the crushed bones of those who had tried to stop her from taking what was hers, stained black by her own darkness. 

Bare feet padded across the coarse surface until they came to a stop. Thana leaned down and picked up a bleached white skull.

Turning it side to side in her hands, she stared out at the ocean she had created a long time ago. Lurking far beneath the surface was Leviathan, stretching out across the sea floor for miles and miles, always ready to rise and come to her.

Everything was hers, everything answered to her. Good is bad. Bad is good. Love is hate. Hate is love. Life is death. Death is life. Underland was not created to adhere to the same rules as the Other World, it was made to adhere to her rules. Here, her word was absolute. Here, she alone was Queen. All came to her in the end.

She smiled, showing two rows of sharp, sharp teeth. The skull smiled back.

@writersloth @strawberryspaceship @rosella1356