molly
she/her
31
october 16
elsewhere
pansexual / aro
functioning sociopath
<redacted>
snake-eyed with a sly smile
MEMENTO
POSTED ON Jul 15, 2021 17:32:30 GMT
smears and words snide
spinning round and round
she had been careful enough to cover her tracks. the man had cowered as he burned. he had been driven to the brink of insanity, pulled back just as quickly with a splash of reality. this will be your life, she'd whispered as her houndoom scarred him with his forever-burns. she had never murdered anyone with her own hands before, and yet the prospect hadn't bothered her that night. despite the hospital staff merely a hop skip away from him, she had resigned him to death, and was wholly surprised to find out months later that he had not succumbed to his wounds.
she had been careful enough to cover her face, to wear her porcelain mask. that vigilante identity, never before removed from her painted room, was so far detached from anya, and as such, eons away from molly, that the idea of being found was nonexistent.
so she paints in her studio, holding up her guise that she is simply a law-abiding citizen, a struggling artist trying to make her way in a world upended by ceaseless destruction. there is always turmoil, and there are always threats, and so there will always be art--so she still sees patrons, no matter how somber, and they chat with her as they peruse her studio.
she lifts her gaze periodically from her work, fingertips stained red and blue, and she gobbles up information about the outside.
her achilles' heel, however, twinges, because in the cocoon of her self-assurance, in the complacency within her fortified tower, she underestimates the anger of a man with nothing left to lose. and it is this anger that brings a newcomer to her studio. the rest of her gallery is empty. she greets him, idly, as she refreshes the paints upon her palette.
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