(no subject)
Marte already ~ ♥ ~ ? So the network whispers, one meditation upon another, and another, and another, and te~di~ous.
Nonetheless... perhaps bellic tutorials are in order. Hubris and infatuation aside, a brief introduction to the rules of war waged and war won:
Meet me in Heaven, where we die.
Weak, weak, tick, meek.
Death finds no creature where threats are lain. Death knows no meaning. Death has no face.
And the last one standing steadies a foot in Hell.
Nonetheless, do save us all.
Humans. How... disconcerting.
And it is not for me to crave Atziluth so, nor its dust, nor its blood, nor its peaches. And still.
[ooc: ...Rosiel at his most sentimental will, of course, talk about death. I'm sure they're somehow related in his head. Er. Really. ._.,]