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 For how could I refuse?, The Frozen VG era starts NOW!
Gretchen Kirke-Faust
 Posted: Mar 16 2017, 03:24 PM
Quote

"you come by it honestly, the ugliness inside you"

AGE:
15
YEAR:
5th
HOUSE:
Ravenclaw
CLASH:
Viridian Guild Leader
HEIGHT:
5'
STATUS:
Pureblood
POSTS:
1115
Rep: 51 pts [ + | - ]

Gretchen Kirke-Faust
© Robin // She/Her
Awards: 80



The apartment might as well have trembled as Gretchen strode towards the door of Severin’s penthouse. Of course the witch had apparated herself to the highest floor – it’d be a cold day in hell before you’d see Gretchen Kirke-Faust break a sweat – but the hallway was long enough to demonstrate an impressive gait. She advanced with swift, determined strides, head high and back arched, more like a conqueror than a young woman – the heels of her shoes echoing like a war horn. Her left hand was clawed around a copy of the Daily Prophet, while her right held onto her wand, and waved it towards the door as she approached it without slowing down. The door threw itself open for the personified Fury, and she marched over the threshold as if she owned it, the black skirt of her gown swaying and rustling as the door behind her whooshed closed.


She didn’t stop to greet her co-leader, she didn’t even pause, and the word ‘hesitate’ was no longer in her vocabulary. Severin might have been enjoying a nice cup of tea on an uneventful morning, but his partner had no use for such follies, and she was greatly unamused. There was no time for exchanging pleasantries, she walked up to the table and smacked the newspaper in front of him, sending the little tea cup trembling.


“Your past relationship is hurting your image,” her black-painted lips barely seemed to move as she spoke, while ice blue eyes judged from underneath heavy lids. “And what hurts your image, hurts the Viridian Guild.”


Underneath her carefully filed nails, Sascha Klaus flashed across the paper’s front page, with a headline that questioned whether the rumours of Viridian Guild leader Larsson’s secret Veela lover were true. With one more jab at the Daily Prophet, Gretchen’s hand retreated as her person slunk towards the penthouse’s large window. She crossed her arms behind her back, her hands resting against the lacing of her corset, and looked out over London like a general – which was exactly what she planned to be. Her figure might’ve been round in so many ways – her hips, face, chest, and, as much as she tried to hide it, even tummy – but everything she wore was sharp, from her pointy shoes to her pointed hat. Her expression was no different.


“We've been dormant for too long. Perhaps the ceasefire ball has tricked people into thinking the war is actually over. It’s time the Viridian Guild becomes aggressive again – but first, we need to rethink our strategy.”


The girl had spent five years abroad after Hogwarts, only to come back to England to find her father missing. In the span of a few months, she had worked herself up quickly in the Guild that Arthur had been working for, determined to find out more about his disappearance – or at least honour his legacy by continuing his search for the cure. It was time for the Guild to start living up to its own ambitions, to start delivering on its grand rhetoric, to rise to what it had always envisioned itself as. It was time to make the Viridian Guild great again.


Unfortunately, it wasn’t easy to appeal to the wizarding world’s mostly pure-blooded, conservative benefactors, as a Faust. In addition, Severin’s anti-Being agenda, by itself so popular with magical middle-class Britain, faltered as more rumours about his past relationship with Klaus saw the light of day. Thus, their image truly was their most pressing concern right now. Aegis had to become the villains again, the unruly rebels – no, terrorists, yes, use the word ‘terrorists,’ write that down – who sabotaged an institution of learning, of progress. As leaders, they were the face of the Guild, so they had to become likeable, trustworthy, mild-mannered citizens. Not a Faust witch, and not a wizard who once dated a part-Veela.


Gretchen turned away from the window and slowly made her way back to her co-leader, leisurely dragging her left hand’s index and middle finger over the top rail of Severin’s chair as she passed, while her right held her wand as if it was an extension of her limb.


“I have a proposal.”


--
@Severin Larsson

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Severin Larsson
 Posted: Mar 17 2017, 02:44 AM
Quote

"I have lost my conscience, but I never lose control."

AGE:
16
YEAR:
6th
HOUSE:
Slytherin
CLASH:
Viridian Guild Leader
HEIGHT:
6'0
STATUS:
Pureblood
POSTS:
1558
Rep: 34 pts [ + | - ]

Severin Larsson
© Tine // She/Her
Awards: 42



Severin’s sleeping rhythm had never been perfect, with nights filled with bad dreams and tossing and turning until his legs were caught in his blanket and his body covered in sweet. There were troubles in this life one did not simply outgrow with ease - and what the young wizard had been through was definitely one of these troubles. Now that he was sticking to his daily work routines, things were better - he went to bed late and woke up early again, watching the sun rise over the rooftops and towers of London. He fed his cat and brewed tea for himself, allowing the water to cook while he took a shower and made himself look presentable again. Although there were no house elves or servants in the penthouse apartment he had bought for himself immediately after graduation, taking the money the selling of the Larsson manor had brought to get himself a home that was not filled with bad memories. It was understandable that Sighild had not wished to live there any more, too - and of course she had gotten half of the fortune, as they were the sole heirs to it.

This was his sanctuary - a place where he did not have to watch his back, as several protecting charms and spells had been cast, as well as rune carvings decorating every door frame and repelling enemies immediately. Here, he could follow his daily routines of eating a grapefruit for breakfast while drinking too much green tea for his own good. Sometimes he allowed himself the pleasure to read the Daily Prophet before work, carefully and fastidiously archiving every blop and snipped that was written about the Viridian Guild, while generously skipping whatever was written about himself. Severin knew Erik was trying to filter and remove information that could harm the former Slytherin - yet he also knew that he had done enough by now for Erik to let information slip only to cause a slight sting, like a particularly mean hornet.

The young man was sitting in his armchair in his living room, enjoying the silence around him for a few moments longer while the room became increasingly brighter and the rich scent of the tea was spreading all around him. Yet he was already neatly dressed in a crisp dark suit, once more all prepared like a corpse for the coffin, or dressed to kill someone without even pausing his steps. Those were qualities he alone did not have - Gretchen Kirke-Faust was quite obviously blessed with the same talents as she appeared in his apartment like an unannounced hurricane, looking rather displeased. Although, a constantly constipated facial expression was just another thing the two VG leaders had in common. Severin merely rose a brow as she appeared, not even questioning how and why she was here, early in the morning. Obviously he would have to renew his charms and runes, as they started to let people in he did not necessarily want to have in his private rooms.

Severin leaned forward and reached out, pale and spidery fingers turning the Prophet around so he could look at the headline. Of course. Sooner or later, it had to happen. He looked up again, glacier gaze settled on Miss Faust’s face instead. “None of this could have waited until tomorrow, I assume?” he asked in his usual calm and deadpan voice, while he was mentally agreeing to her. The Viridian Guild had been quiet for too long, despite his little speech during the ball. The fact that the rumours about him and Sascha Klaus having been a couple during their school days were getting louder did not help either, and it made him pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation, a migraine coming up. Shifting slightly in his armchair, he adjusted his posture, reaching for his teacup and yet stopping it halfway between his lips and the table.

I have a proposal. One thing was for sure, young Miss Faust had a sense for drama - starting with her clothes, her dramatic entry like Medea hovering over Iason in Phoebus’s carriage, pulled by winged snakes and the way she was circling him like a vulture. “A proposal? What is it you want, Miss Faust - marry me?” He snorted, with no amusement being stuck in the sound as he took a sip from his teacup.

@Gretchen Kirke-Faust

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Gretchen Kirke-Faust
 Posted: Mar 22 2017, 03:32 PM
Quote

"you come by it honestly, the ugliness inside you"

AGE:
15
YEAR:
5th
HOUSE:
Ravenclaw
CLASH:
Viridian Guild Leader
HEIGHT:
5'
STATUS:
Pureblood
POSTS:
1115
Rep: 51 pts [ + | - ]

Gretchen Kirke-Faust
© Robin // She/Her
Awards: 80



Circling back to face him, though now on the other side of his armchair, she watched Larsson lackadaisically sip from his cup of tea – apparently not all that bothered by her appearance nor by the urgency and importance in her voice. No matter, he just didn’t know yet that she wasn’t here for the regular idle chit chat. The obligatory meetings they had shared before were child’s play compared to what was to come – simply setting general goals and targets, distributing tasks,… Gretchen might’ve gone through the motions for the first few months, neither of the two leaders particularly eager to start discussing the Guild’s new management for it would include coming up with a combined strategy – but it was time to leave a mark now. Things were going to change and they were going to change starting today.


Gretchen’s hips only just reached the table’s height, but she did a mighty job of casting her shadow on the scene regardless. It was almost as if her very presence darkened the room – must’ve been all the black, but that’s what you get for running a funeral home as your day job. She rested one hand on the table’s platform, leaned against it, and blinked slowly, as if she didn’t really need to, wearing an unimpressed, almost tired expression.


“Yes, Larsson,” she articulated as if she was trying to explain a complex word to a three-year-old, “That is exactly what I’m proposing.” She pushed herself away from the table in one fluid motion and dryly continued. “Allow me to explain,” Holding her hands in front of her chest, her right tapped her wand against the open palm of her left as she spoke, “Aegis has gained some momentum, yes, but it is under new management now. Sawyer is rusty, and Ryu is green. They have no history, and as far as we can see – no immediate plans. Now is the time to play our cards right and win back the favour of the populace.”


The woman started to pace, wearing an expression of distaste as she walked around Severin’s living room, as if judging her unwilling host’s taste in furniture and decoration. Of course, we can’t all live in a funeral parlour. Though there was one piece that did grab her attention, a chessboard with finely carved pieces neatly paced upon it. She gravitated towards it, the pure visualization of strategy beckoning.


“Consider: The Viridian Guild as a respectable, legitimate entity, with only the best interests of the people at heart. Aegis, the terrorists who wish to sabotage it – not even an organization, really, more a few loose groups of lunatics. That is what we could be – or what we could sell.” Her index finger poked the chess piece of the White King, tipping it slightly so it balanced on its base. “…If the Guild wasn’t led by a Faust, and a man known for having dated a Veela,” her eyes sought her co-leader again, though they were just as frigid as before. Without tearing her cold gaze away, as she needed the resolution in her icy blues to convey how serious she was, she pushed the King until it almost tipped. “The people don’t trust us, our benefactors are becoming stingy, and people are starting to see Aegis as the saviours instead of the rebels,” slowly, she retracted her finger from the wooden chess piece, and while it wobbled dangerously for a split second, it neatly landed on its base again.


“However…” She shrugged as casually as someone who seemed to have walked right out of a Tim Burton drawing possibly could, pulling the corners of her lips down while simultaneously raising her chin as if to say, well, it was his call, really. “If I wasn’t a Faust, and if you were in a traditional marriage,” Her hands found their way to her hips, and the feigned casualness melted right off her. Despite her round body type, with all its inherent softness, there was something about the way she carried herself that seemed to turn the Faust into a marble statue – hard and cold to the touch. “The publicity would be in our favour for once, we’d have the press eating out of our hand. Middle-Magical-Britain will lap it right up. Who would the people trust, an unknown face and a name that disappeared for years – or ‘the Larssons’?” Her already heavy eyelids lowered a little, darkening the brightness of her blue eyes. There was something akin to a challenge in their gaze, as if asking, no, taunting, her partner to show just how far he was willing to go for the sake of the Viridian Guild. “Or, as Winston Churchill once said, ‘History will be kind to me for I intend to write it.’”


---
@Severin Larsson

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Severin Larsson
 Posted: Mar 23 2017, 02:37 PM
Quote

"I have lost my conscience, but I never lose control."

AGE:
16
YEAR:
6th
HOUSE:
Slytherin
CLASH:
Viridian Guild Leader
HEIGHT:
6'0
STATUS:
Pureblood
POSTS:
1558
Rep: 34 pts [ + | - ]

Severin Larsson
© Tine // She/Her
Awards: 42



When Severin closed his eyes, he could come up with at least five ways how he would rather spend his morning than having Miss Faust circling him as if he was already evaporating the sweet odor of decay so she could put him in one of her shiny coffins. In fact, he would not mind it even. There was something strangely comforting about the funeral parlour she was running, and he was never quite as bothered to seek her company for a meeting there as he was with her in his living room. Other people in his own four walls were always a nuisance - they ruined both his carpet and his mood, and Severin did not know yet which of these two facts bothered him more. With the tip of his left index finger, he pushed the Daily Prophet to the edge of the table until it aligned perfectly with it, only then focusing on his tea again while Miss Faust kept circling, always ready to attack her prey.

But Severin Larsson was no one’s prey, even if she was too much of a good hunter. Just as he wanted to rest his head against the back of his chair, delicate porcelain of the teacup in his hand touching his lips, the young witch’s words cut through the room, and he choked on the sip he had just taken, the tea burning in his throat as he coughed and put the cup back on his table, knocking his fist against his chest while covering his mouth with his other hand, the Larsson signet ring on his long, slim finger sparkling in the dim lights of the room in the movement. Yes, Larsson. The coughing died down after a few moments, yet he was still staring at Gretchen in mild horror as she decided to elaborate on her plans on marrying him. It was madness - although it was everything that had been expected of him when his parents had been still alive, more than eight years ago by now: a wedding with a pureblood woman, continuation of the Larsson blood line, children to carry on the heritage.

They sure as Hel had not wanted him to marry a Faust out of all people, and yet he was listening carefully. Quite obviously, his co-leader had thought about this for longer than just a mere few minutes, fastidiously planned every second of this conversation. The Swede adjusted his position again as he watched Miss Faust touching his chessboard like they were already married and she owned the place as much as he did. A pale eyebrow got raised at her as glacier eyes followed every step she took. Her strategy sounded good - bulletproof almost, as a wedding seemed to be the solution to all their personal and public problems. His anti-being agenda clashed with having dated a veela, and they would never get the votes of most prestigious pureblood families with a Faust by his side.

The Larsson name was not the cleanest any more either, yet when placed on the scales of justice, it would outweigh the Faust name with ease. Slowly, Severin pushed himself off his chair and walked towards her, glancing at the chessboard as well before his gaze settled on Gretchen’s face instead. “Sleepless nights at your little morgue?” he asked in a deadpan voice, as there was no other explanation how she could have come up with such a plan. His decision had been made the moment her speech had ended, tossing all potential personal hopes, dreams and issues aside. They needed to make sure the Viridian Guild kept flourishing - and how else if not with a plan like this?

“Do you need an official proposal from my side just yet?” he asked and tilted his head, looking down at her with absolutely no emotion in his eyes. Oh, if it helped the Guild, he would drop down on his knees in a moment, slipping the ring as a promise on her hand before wording a press announcement. All these things while it was not even nine in the morning - they surely were leaders fuelled by ambition.

@Gretchen Kirke-Faust

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Gretchen Kirke-Faust
 Posted: Apr 29 2017, 05:25 AM
Quote

"you come by it honestly, the ugliness inside you"

AGE:
15
YEAR:
5th
HOUSE:
Ravenclaw
CLASH:
Viridian Guild Leader
HEIGHT:
5'
STATUS:
Pureblood
POSTS:
1115
Rep: 51 pts [ + | - ]

Gretchen Kirke-Faust
© Robin // She/Her
Awards: 80



Early mornings had never been a friend to Gretchen. From a young age, she was used to staying up late, her rhythm adapting to that of the man who raised her. Nights were comfortable, the darkness familiar. In the Faust’s home in Kensington, the lighting had always been dim, with only candles and oil lamps around, and whichever light sources the witch would magically create herself. She was used to reading by candlelight however, and her eyes had learned to see as best as they could without much light, combine that with the knowledge that her feline companion would always guide her and Gretchen could find her way in the dark just fine. Now she didn’t live in Kensington anymore, she lived above her funeral home in Horizont Alley, but the place was just as ill lit. Some habits are just harder to shake off than others, even though her eyes were slowly letting her know that she was tiring them out, and she may or may not already own a pair of glasses.


Being a night owl was apparently an essential part of the former eagle, something the Ravenclaw alumni wasn’t just able to shake off. Getting up early in the morning would always be a challenge. Yet she was here now, and it was because Larsson was right, there had been a couple of sleepless nights – more than a couple even, months of sleepless nights. What started as looking into her father’s disappearance had turned into an obsession with the Guild. As much as she disliked and distrusted Larsson, a feeling that was bound to be mutual, she could rely on their similar temperaments and ambitions. There’s something terribly enabling about spending so much time with someone who has the same flaws as you, with nobody else to question their callous decisions. Neither wanted to lose face in front of the other either, or wanted to be the weaker link, so they seemed bound to only grow colder in each other’s presence. It was a dangerous combination that would only bring out the worst in them, but did either still care about them? The Viridian Guild took priority, it claimed their souls, and Fausts had a track record of selling theirs.


Gretchen looked up at her co-leader without emotion, not answering his most likely rhetorical question about sleepless nights, but waiting for his answer. Though she already knew what it would be, in the same way that she had known she could become co-leader if she played her cards right. Relying on similar temperaments and ambitions, and all that. Marrying Severin Larsson had obviously not been the first option she had considered, and it certainly wasn’t her favourite, but it was the best. Its only flaw was that they didn’t like each other, but they didn’t have to. All that was required of this union was for their ambitions to be aligned.


“Well, we’ll have to do this traditionally,” she didn’t take her own steadfast eyes of his. There was something familiar yet eerie about that icy shade of blue, like holding up a mirror and seeing your reflection blink. “Rings, big wedding, white dress,… so yes, it’s probably best if you propose. It's what the people would want.”


It was a business proposal like any other, just a means to an end. The end had become everything to Gretchen, her priorities skewed and her ideologies disregarded as the Guild and the cure went to her head. The end did justify the means, didn’t it? Besides, she had convinced herself that she could get rid of Larsson and his anti-being agenda as soon as she didn’t need him anymore, as soon as they found the cure. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he had similar plans for her, so she might as well make herself useful in the meantime, make sure she wasn’t easy to get rid of.


---
@Severin Larsson

--------------------
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Severin Larsson
 Posted: May 2 2017, 01:43 PM
Quote

"I have lost my conscience, but I never lose control."

AGE:
16
YEAR:
6th
HOUSE:
Slytherin
CLASH:
Viridian Guild Leader
HEIGHT:
6'0
STATUS:
Pureblood
POSTS:
1558
Rep: 34 pts [ + | - ]

Severin Larsson
© Tine // She/Her
Awards: 42



Some things were hard to shake off - and in Severin’s case, there was a variety of things he simply could not shake off, no matter how hard he was trying. The past was digging its claws into his fragile skin, tearing it wide open and turning long faded scars into bleeding wounds once more. Even now he could barely look at the copy of the Prophet in front of him, as it seemed the editors were digging up new pieces of his past whenever they had a chance to do so. Whether it was fake news about the Larsson murder, rumours about Sighild’s doings even though she was barely showing her face in public or Severin’s assumed relationship to the part-veela he used to date when they had been at Hogwarts - somehow, his name always found its way in the headlines again, and the young man was sure Erik was no longer trying to cover him up. Especially not after the fate Severin had decided for the muggle reporter his friend from childhood days had fed information about the wizarding world to. This was a bad morning, as it seemed every single decision he had ever made was haunting the Swede right now - much like those nightmares that still woke him in the middle of the night, drenched in his own sweat.

Focusing on young Miss Faust helped - his gaze could follow her while his mind was yet unwilling to unfold the true meaning of her words. She did not belong into this apartment, as nothing about her seemed to fit in - not her appearance, not her attitude, while her posture might have been perfect. But what if he agreed to this terrible plan, and they would have to pretend to be the perfect married couple they were trying to sell to the rabble? Would he have to share his sanctuary with her to make the lie complete? A sudden movement made him wince, and when Severin looked down, he saw Stjärna rubbing her head carefully against his leg, reaching long fingers towards his cat - her fur having taken on a soft shade of grey over those past eight years - and petting her lightly before he lost her attention again and watched her wander through the room like a lurking shadow detached from its owner.

He crossed his hands behind his back while his glacier gaze wandered from the chessboard towards Gretchen and back again. Everything about him was repelling this idea, while at the same time he embraced it. Long since Severin Larsson had given up to seek peace and tranquility for himself, as it seemed to be a destination he would never reach, like chasing daydreams he could no longer afford to dream. Even in this moment he could not be sure whether they were watched or not, and so the Swede nodded slowly before taking a careful step back, dropping to one knee with such grace one could have thought he was kneeling down all the time. Pale hands reached out for hers, holding it in a cautious grip as he looked up, staring into eyes that could be reflections of his own.

“Will you, Gretchen Guinevere Faust, be my wife?” Severin asked - quiet and yet full of confidence as he spoke - eventual spies would be proud of him while he ignored the fact his knee started to feel sore already. For a moment he let go, only to slip the silver signet ring from his own hand, carefully - as if she were made of porcelain - slipping it on her ring finger. “This will have to do until we choose an actual engagement ring for you,” he said in his usual deadpan tone, slowly raising into an upright position again. “Do you wish to seal our decision with a kiss or can we spare ourselves the embarrassment of it?” It was odd to see the one piece of jewelry he considered family heritage on a Faust’s finger - but did they really still have a choice in these things?

@Gretchen Kirke-Faust

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Gretchen Kirke-Faust
 Posted: Jul 12 2017, 01:56 PM
Quote

"you come by it honestly, the ugliness inside you"

AGE:
15
YEAR:
5th
HOUSE:
Ravenclaw
CLASH:
Viridian Guild Leader
HEIGHT:
5'
STATUS:
Pureblood
POSTS:
1115
Rep: 51 pts [ + | - ]

Gretchen Kirke-Faust
© Robin // She/Her
Awards: 80



Severin’s penthouse wasn’t unlike Gretchen’s funeral home - for one thing, their furniture had to be just as old. The difference being that Gretchen had bought the place in Horizont Alley with everything in it, and hadn’t bothered much with interior decorating, while she could imagine Larsson handpicking every single one of the atrocities in this room. The Rococo sofa honestly looked like it’d bite her if she sat down on it, its offensive asymmetry and excessively ornate iron frame making it look like something out of Hades’ personal collection. A part of her realised that she didn’t look out of place there, just like how she didn’t look out of place in the dusty old funeral home. She couldn’t really tell if she liked her new home, or anything in it. Those weren’t thoughts she occupied herself with. It served its purpose, that was all. Just like this marriage.


The witch didn’t blink, she kept her gaze on her co-leader, the well-crafted chessboard neglected in front of her. Her eyes only briefly flicked down to the cat when it moved. It reminded her of her own furry companion, and the fit he had thrown when she’d told him to stay put. For the past years, the kneazle-cat hadn’t left her side, much more so than during their time at Hogwarts. There were real dangers in the world beyond the walls of Hogwarts castle, as the young witch learned soon enough. Her travels had taught her much – she’d seen beings first hand that before she had only read about, conferred with witches of other cultures, and experienced new kinds of magic.


Most importantly, it had taught her to be alone again. Just Gretchen and Billy.


Somehow, being around Severin didn’t seem to break that trend. It didn’t feel like company, but more like a shared solitude. As much as she disliked and distrusted her co-leader, there was a certain comfort in that – in how he wasn’t a threat to the walls she’d build over the past years, and how he never would be. Just like how she had no interest in breaking down his, or even knowing the person behind them.


Their height difference was significant enough that Gretchen barely had to look down when he kneeled. A part of her had expected his hands to feel cold, as frigid as their attitude towards each other, but the warmth of his skin was an unpleasant reminder that there was another person there, made of more than calculated plans and tactical moves. She wondered if he omitted the Kirke part of her name deliberately, emphasizing her outcast status and denying her access to the part of her family that had once been respectable purebloods. If that was the case, then the joke was on him, as she’d soon be using his. Or perhaps that’s what the Slytherin alumni was emphasizing – her newfound dependence on him. Was it a risk she was willing to take?


“Yes,” she kept her voice level, calm but resolute. “I will.” A perfectly plucked eyebrow raised seemingly on its own accord as he slipped the signet ring off his hand. Instinctively, she had almost pulled her hand back – perhaps the Faust had expected the Larsson heirloom to burn her finger – but she kept her steel resolve. The ring was too big for her small fingers, but it would do for now. As Severin got up, Gretchen raised her hand to eye-level to inspect it better – the symbolic circle as much as the signet. She didn’t wonder if maybe she was running from feelings she used to have, welcoming this union to freeze her being because it was safer, easier, to be frozen. Those kind of thoughts weren’t allowed on her mind anymore, they were buried as deep as the bodies her funeral home took care of.


“No,” she replied rather languidly, almost with disinterest. “Let’s keep that for the wedding.”

---
@Severin Larsson

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