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/ otsukaresama for all of the hard work, garem! i have only been in this event for a few seasons and we did not interact much at all, but i enjoyed reading the things you & the other panitia wrote for he’s main sl. wishing you luck on your future endeavors. ☘️

Me, alongside Karen, Jiro, Elok, Ely, Uriel, Ian, and Aiden, bid you all goodbye. May our paths cross again, and may we meet as better versions of ourselves. With a grain of salt, Garem.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐨𝐠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 ㅤㅤㅤ𝐇𝐨𝐠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝟏𝟓 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝐇𝐚𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐄𝐧𝐝 ㅤ ㅤ

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constellation thrones aloft—silent, abominable, and distant. | end of thread.

most honest she could be so far; that whatever conclusions would pass, may it not rend any of your foolish hearts. “stay with me for a little while, jason.” she turns, her head inclined upward, finding a cold sort of tranquility from the blinking stars in their soft …

ridges and valleys that speak of her uncertainties. “but what choice do we have other than to face it?” come what may, the sun on its fiery chariot will climb its natural course across the skies to sunder the dark once more. her hope is small, insignificant, but it is the …

always be prepared of in the same while as it is frightening. “it would be a lie if i say otherwise,” she doesn’t think there is a necessity to elaborate. her fingers curl and uncurl on her dress, her eyes watchful of the wrinkles forming and disappearing, leaving ghastly …

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in my chest there are fewer river mouths which speak of blood and steel and forgiveness.

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she drags her knees to herself, cradling their bony structure, feeling the coldness that has long seeped into her flesh and further with her hands. “what do you think would happen tomorrow?” she murmurs. “does it scare you?” @aeternaist

it truly has been a good evening. seated here in all of your paired lonesome, against the intimidation of encroaching unknown with only the night as your witness, it doesn’t strike her as terrifying anymore. her silence lingers stubbornly even after your faithful declaration.

medea would have been stunned at the boldness if you were anyone else. perhaps it is exactly because you are you—jason; half of the soul bearing the namesake of a romance woven into tragic myth of olden times—that her heart is full and whole, still and all.

her bloodstream. the night is dreamlike at the borders of surreality. medea is almost fearful of waking. the exhaustion in her muscles pulls her down to the grass, and with her hand, she’d tug you along to sink near the same spot. i will go wherever you go, you said.

field. the moonlight is nothing to the sun that medea so much prefers, but it is enough. it will always be enough. “we have the wh—ole place for us here!” @aeternaist

well make a victim of a poor soul. medea stands and steps onto the soil, her feet—bare and unapologetic—crush the tickling grass beneath. it is cold and dewy. her toes sink right between. “come on, jason!” she beams, barely bothered to turn, and runs past the dark to the open …

few corridors away—are reveling in its rightful fruition. she lifts her feet, an unladylike gesture that would have made her mother turn in shame, and shakes her synthetic heels. one is flung down, hitting the stones with a dull thunk, and the other flew so far out it might as …

the last half of it simply because it speaks for itself. when she turns to you, the line of her lips is a little tight. “time passes so quickly when you are busy.” but that is not why you are here. it feels odd to address the horrors of passage when others—not so much as a …