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atrophy

i used to dream in the dark of palisades park

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played by

aphelion

she/her
thirty-five
november 9
sootopolis city
greysexual
priestess
civilian
5'6" (167.6 cm) height
5'6" (167.6 cm) height
tragedy baptizes the angels, and so too it will initiate me
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21 posts
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TAG WITH @verona
verona santillian
atrophy
POSTED ON Jun 27, 2024 0:24:44 GMT
verona santillian Avatar
she's never seen an angel.

the old texts say that they are messengers from god, sent down from the heavens so that they would warn or comfort in equal measure. they say that they are shaped in his image. born, if only to mirror that of those that they seek to remind of his grace and of his anguish at their suffering. the divine serpent—she has thought this since she was a fate-touched child:

they are harbingers of disaster. of ruin.

but, none speak of angels the way that she imagines them: those that crawl out of the inky depths of the ocean, those that remake the earth as they will it.

she does not understand why it is that people mourn them, then, here: a graveyard for the seraphim.

she traipses between the headstones.

her fingertips dance across them. dusty, cold and worn. loved enough to be buried, but not enough to be mourned. she thinks of the names that'd been lost to time. "in land, and sea and sky, hallowed grounds, the tempest oceans," she murmurs beneath her breath. she thinks of the endless blooms, plucked before their time to be left here to rot with the rest of the scavengers that feast on that which decays beneath the surface.

she hums, and her heels crush offering after indifferent offering. her voice sweet like smoke.

"and in the gates of heaven; bless us with your holy protection from the temptations of evil—"

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played by

Dyfalu

Lyds
She/Her
27
May 12
Goldenrod City
Heterosexual
Unemployed
Cadet
Victory Runs in My Veins
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328 posts
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TAG WITH @lydiamagnusson
Lydia Magnusson
atrophy
POSTED ON Jul 5, 2024 3:28:26 GMT
Lydia Magnusson Avatar
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brave men rejoice in adversity, just as good soldiers triumph in war.

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Lydia has no particular connection to this graveyard. It is not the dirt where her family or Pokemon lay. But there is some spiritual comfort found within its walls. The monument to fallen soldiers draws her in on occasion. She counts the dog tags. As time goes on, the numbers have slowly swelled. It is as if they are hydras, producing more deaths with each falter.
[break][break]

As she pulls her offering away, the Lycanroc at her feet perks up its ears. With an almost pensive expression, the wolf turns toward the noise. After a brief prayer to Lord Arceus, Lydia’s attention follows. With a pensive curiosity, she drifts toward a nearby alcove. “?” Her brow raises as Verona’s haunting voice echoes back to her.
[break][break]


It is obviously a prayer. The same kind she herself has murmured a thousand times over. But the empty, deranged look in the woman’s eyes makes Lydia wonder if it is the same god they pray to.

[break][break]

The Kalosian straightens her back. She starts across the room to the other woman. “Excusez-moi—!” The veteran begins with an icy politeness. But this ends as Verona’s feet nearly crushes a bouquet. With a frown, the woman rushes forward. “No!” The woman’s last words wash over her. A hand reaches out as if to grab and steady the woman.

[break][break]

“What are you doing?” Her sympathy freezes like a midwinter pond. “Zis is blasphemy!”


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it's a long life full of long nights

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