There are times when sacrifices must be made, when paths must be chosen and remained on. The time for laughter has passed. Perhaps it will return, one day. I will be glad, if it does. For now, however, Weirmonken needs more.

The path spread out before me is one forged in blood and shadows. I have hung on the tree of fate, upsidedown, and fed it ( Read more... )

Written, over and over again, in a simple leatherbound journal:

Things fall apart; the center cannot hold. Things fall apart; the center cannot hold. The center cannot hold.

shutupshutupshutupshutup.

He is dead. Why does he haunt me so, still? Leave my dreams, my pretty liar.

I hunt, tomorrow, though it is not for flesh or the taste of blood. I ( Read more... )

It's all blood and vines and twisty stabby thorns. Things that should not be, things that would've been better of left to die.

They were worse, last night.

It itches. Not my skin. Something inside my heart that goes twitterthudtwitch.

I lied.

If it hasn't tainted me, how is it that the call still sounds all around me?

Kazimir said the One of the Black ( Read more... )