skeletonites

[skeletonites]

* ╱ 𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕖 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥

●︎ when: june 18th, 2021 ●︎ where: sherman lofts, sioux falls ●︎ with: @zinniastreet​

hell, in it’s delight, offered an opportune moment to escape her supposed home. denial came in many forms, and since fleeing wasn’t an option, she chose a rank that took the least amount of empathy. summoner.  this would be by far her biggest performance thus far. 

a stench of cigarette coming from her right hand keeps her sane while walking down sioux falls. such a mindless endeavor could still end in unjust encounters these days. 

stopping on the curb of sherman lofts, she spotted her target from afar. her feet wouldn’t move forward at first, let alone backward. she’d have to continue about her blissful ignorance in her new like of work. wearing a parisian beret cocked to the side, she tipped her acquaintance with a puff of smoke. after some time noting no one came to her aid, selene stepped forward and lifted her lighter with a waft of her hand. 

she’d never get tired of the adrenaline it came of using magic in public. “you got a phone or a cell i could use?” 

Location: Outside Sherman Lofts Status: Open

“Fuck.” It was nighttime, and Zinnia had awoken from another nightmare about her father. Or, rather, sperm donor. Father was far too kind a word to call him. Acknowledging him as her father would flatter his ego too much, in any case. Though she killed him years ago, she couldn’t ever fully regard him as dead. No, he was in Hell, which gave Familiars home and brutalized the humans that ended up there.

She’d very much like to visit Hell. But, instead, she was on Earth, right outside her apartment, taking a smoke break. Except she didn’t have a light, because her shitty Bic lighter ran out of juice.

“Hey.” If at first she felt ignored, she would try again, at any random passerby. “Hey. Hey, you!” Fuckass. She was soon to run after them. “You got a light on you, or something?” Please tell me you do.

[skeletonites]

Zbigniew Herbert, from The Collected Poems: 1956-1998; “I Would Like To Describe”

Text ID: I would like to describe a light / which is being born in me / but I know it does not resemble / any star / for it is not so bright / not so pure / and is uncertain

[skeletonites]

♞ m.m.

─ 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐭

› when: march 23rd, 2021 › where: the church of night › with: @skeletonites​

the courtyard was quieter than the inner sanctum of the church and he was thankful for the silence that overtook him on the concrete bench. from across the distance, barely audible conversations took place between older and self-proclaimed wiser men. these were the same men that macaulay grew to hate over time due to their outdated views and corrupt stances on the wytch community. they drove him to create the lords, a new order of male wytches who followed the one true satan and not the political agenda of an elitist wytch with an axe to grind. the lords followed their personal desires, never once dulling the emotion and hiding them around. they were deemed worthy and would conquer death in the end; which was more power then any of them knew what to do with. the idea was one that enamored the hearts of boys without a true purpose, the once outcasts within their own supernatural community. the only problem was that their leader was a man who fell from grace the moment that he welcomed “him” into the inner circle. valentino was a ticking time bomb from the inside out and when the two ended things - the other man pulled at the seams of the lords, unraveling them before they could find their true potential.

a couple of the other wytches tried to pick up the pieces and move on without macaulay but that was easier said than done. the mott child was depressed and no one could help him out of “the bad place,” he’d fallen into. sometimes mabel would come and visit him there, in that decayed spiritual world that was long-forgotten in the supernatural world. sadly, not even she could invoke his sense of purpose and instead the youth set their waiting for his own miserable death to consume him. that was the reason depression wasn’t a straightforward response to a bad situation; depression just is, like weather. try to understand the blackness, lethargy, hopelessness, and loneliness someone is going through and understand it’s best not to overcrowd them.

with the potent drugs in his hand, macaulay wanted nothing more than to numb the pain with the narcotics that he got from his brother in arms. sadly, without an escape route the wytch sat there and waited for the crowds to dissipate and if he was lucky, his former flame wouldn’t have noticed him.

it was the somber hello that caused his eyes to instantly well and the embarrassment to wash over him. still yet - that once soft voice chilled him to his core and made him feel safe in the darkness for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. the fragility of love is what is most at stake here - humanity’s most crucial three-word avowal is often uttered only to find itself suddenly embarrassing or orphaned or isolated or ill-timed. mac didn’t believe they could ever get back to their former glory; two wytches once in love and who threatened to decimate whomever came between them. “valentino…” he whispered and forced himself to look forward, almost like a corpse devoid of emotion. “…you’re awfully ambitious. i actually came out here to avoid you.” answered the wytch as tried his best not to look at the other and avoid eye-contact. macaulay couldn’t do this, not right now when he was most vulnerable and it scared him on how much power the other still had over him.

-

* ╱ 𝖛𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖔 𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖝

●︎ when: march 23rd, 2021 ●︎ where: church of night, deadwood ●︎ with: @primordias​​​

the fleeting glances, the detached modesty valentino recognized so earnestly, his own cupped hands kept hidden and folded arms on his back; he saw the tiny details with a sensitive sight. he couldn’t deflect from them. to hell with his pride and what compromised their relationship in the first time, he couldn’t cast aside the truth. his gaze remained steady on the other’s, so he could study macaulay wholly and vice versa if mac so desired. the blonde could stare at the ground or glare at him all night, but valentino’s garnered a new moon to linger on. a polished orbit in a disturbing time where they stood on opposing sides, no longer sharing the indisputable connection they shared. and a bed. circumstances made from his calloused hands; it’s why he kept them hidden. tucked away

he stood after a brief pause, turned on his heels to face macaulay in harsh reality. “do you wish for me to leave?” of refreshing candor, a closed mouth has never gotten him anywhere. but the decision for them to exist in the same space was dictated over macaulay’s heartbeat; and he could hear it throbbing, feel it close to his ears thanks to his new pair of senses. in order to avoid handling him poorly, direct words - clear, cut decisiveness seemed best. “the last thing i want...” the rest of the words lodged in his throat, because the last thing he wanted had already occurred. a drift so wide and yawning, no amount of shouting or pleading could be heard from it’s depths. a cold front to endure he wasn’t prepared for, macaulay’s disposition, in ways, confused him. valentino’s transparent hues danced a game of will-they-won’t-they and he was momentarily grateful to his new eyes, grateful to give his reflection a break. 

“...is for you to leave.” he was tailored into an uncomfortable role, seeking to bridge the gap between them and leave a suited breathing space for mac. what they had - maybe it couldn’t be unearth, but like in all spell castings, a loophole’s intricately designed for these types of cases. maybe, he hoped, he could fine one, too.

[skeletonites]

♝ c.s.

“ sometimes I think that your kin is more alive than some humans that have crossed my path.” far from being one to praise bloodsuckers the evidences were right in front of her eyes. nothing like dying to learn how to enjoy life. a paradox. an absurd notion easy to prove when digged deeper. “ gotta die once to put things into perspective?” let´s hope that her sense of humor is welcomed. some vampyrs are awfully emotional when thinking about their second chance at life. rina would never consider joining their ranks. no matter how much the jaguar in her head and soul drove her mad at times, the beast was a part of her, has always been.“ careful there, toshi. you might let poison grow on you. but that´s the fun of it, playing with the unknown. talking about bargains let´s make it interesting shall we?”  her glass of tequila was empty and she mentioned for the waiter to bring another. “ if you guess my second form you will get my name. four questions of your choice and I can only say yes or no. wanna play? ”

-

* ╱ 𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢

●︎ when: december 20th, 2020 ●︎ where: armana nightclub, rapid city ●︎ with: @rinaxjaguar​​

she was absolutely right. fresh-faced and alert, vampirs maintained human characteristics they choose not to part from and dispel famous myths. well into his seventieth year, a select few can only discern him from a crowd by detecting his stagnant blood flow, his veins a dry well. at the topic of death, his grin faltered for a split second, probably long enough for the woman to notice. “not necessarily,” the plain words a very contradiction to his more exact thoughts. “not much changes. you only grow more intense, rash, passionate, and mad. oh, very mad,” he sighed, detached, “quite silly, isn’t it?” he sighed. delighted over any sport of chance, he nodded to the proposal and beckoned for his own glass to be refilled out of sheer sentiment. she drew out toshi’s inability to pass up a game of any kind. even if alcohol down his throat was similar to oil on water.  “you drive a hard bargain, but let’s get started. hm — i got it! preferred and most hated season?” two questions in one, he had little understanding on wers aside for the canine and feline classifications. word around the dominion said, their numbers have dwindled to near extinction. to which toshi figured, 'oh, well.’

[skeletonites]

Tokyo Vampire Hotel (2017) dir. Sion Sono

[skeletonites]

[skeletonites]

This is what you do, love. Stride across the centuries and death follows, churning in your wake.

[skeletonites]

* ╱ 𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕖 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥

●︎ when: early april, 2020 ●︎ where: great bear valley, sioux falls ●︎ with: @streetzinnia​

“it’s a songbird,” its sing-song notes a common variety surrounding her hometown’s. “oh, no, not at all. unless you’re really small, have eight legs and eyes - then I’d suggest run,” she mused, her lips curled into a soft smile. never one believe in ‘accidental’ meets yet there she was, content to share the path with the lone hiker.

they exchanged names, but that was pretty much it. selene wasn’t much of a conversationalist, idle chit-chat a hurdle she can’t be bothered to overcome. she supposed, for this walk, she could cross her comfort. “if we reach the outskirts of the forest, you might get lucky?”

Location: Great Bear Valley Time: Early April 2021

“What kind of bird is that?” Zinnia asked. She could recall the birds her mother told her about – crowned eagles, falcons, ospreys and splendid owls that stalked the night – and the few that she had come across independently. 

But, while on a daytime walk through Great Bear Valley – which honestly looked better when covered in a thick layer of snow – she had spotted a new species of bird making itself at home on some nearby tree branches. “It doesn’t look like a bird of prey.” Shame.

[skeletonites]

Margaret Atwood, from “There Are Better Ways of Doing This”

[skeletonites]

Tokyo Vampire Hotel (2017) dir. Sion Sono

[skeletonites]

✭ k.n.

@skeletonites​

Nari’s heart skipped a beat at Anna’s answer. No matter how many times Anna agreed to see her–her true self, not the dazzling image she’s spent her life perfecting–it still felt like a risk. Thankfully, her unending need for reassurance was matched by Anna’s hunger for acceptance into wytchkind. They were two sides of the same coin, and that coin could probably use some therapy, but such was life. Everything in Nari’s world was either perfect or dysfunctional and at least with Anna that dysfunction could be something beautiful and fun.

“I’ll set a timer,” she teased before hanging up with a wink. Asami wasn’t here at the moment–Nari’s senses were dull and grey from the lack of magic–so she threw open a window and lit a cigarette with the lighter she kept on her key ring. Even when she didn’t have magic, she still needed fire. She climbed up on the windowsill and looked out at the darkening city–her city–and took a slow drag. Sunset was always her favorite time of day because it meant that night was coming. Smoke drifted off into the air and Nari stared at it, momentarily transfixed before a chime from her phone brought her back to the present: a text from her father, who wished her ‘good studies’ and urged her to ‘remember who she was.’ Nothing else could have spoiled the mood faster than that.

She put on a school girl’s jumper stained with fake blood–even when Nari was incognito she still wanted to be noticed–and looped a disguising glamour charm around her neck. She had been teaching Anna how to make them and while her progress had been relatively good, Anna’s still weren’t good enough for a destination filled with other supernaturals. The charm Nari wore was half of a best friends necklace with the other half, of course, belonging to Anna. If the feeling it represented was genuine it would be too much authenticity to bear and if it wasn’t the gift was a joke too cruel for even her twisted tastes, so Nari had told Anna that it was easier to enchant both of the piece at once than to cast the same spell twice on different trinkets. She saw Anna’s arrival text and threw the door open with a bang. “Hey, bitch! It’s been too long”

* ╱ 𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈

●︎ when: march 19th, 2021 ●︎ where: high rise apartments, yeoui island ●︎ with: @gilded-nari​

anna’s beaming smile faded at the drop of the call. the first thing she caught sight of was grandma’ strung out on the couch, a lighted cigarette in her limp hand close to falling on the wooden floor. her shaking head didn’t stop her from tidying up the living quarter, ashing the cigarette, turning all the appliances in fear of the worst. but ultimately, she bolted from the house in a span of six or so minutes. she has never called her grandma’s house ‘home’. she left that word in the states, burrowed beneath opulent boulevards. the words slipped from her mouth once around her housemates, but a quick jaded line quickly veered the topic elsewhere. certainly she would need a year or two more to consider the dorm home, either. anna worked out her immediate present as home, the reflection and duality of herself she couldn’t look away from.  a lone breath escaped her once she was out in the streets. as light fades to black, the sunset leaving remaints of warmth, she walked in a daze to the bus stop with time to spare.

she practiced her routine halfheartedly on the way to and while waiting, languid limbs rehearsing dance moves ingrained in her bones. inside the mind she trailed a vast arena stage and invisible spectators she performed for, placing a thin red line between present and future. her movements forgotten under the evening sky, the few denizens scuffling about, glancing at her oddly, did not place a dent in her confidence. the crowd in her head went into a frenzy, chanting her name.  the bright lights from an approaching bus blind and bring her back on the ground. she pardoned herself to the driver, settling in the first row of seats for the half hour ride back. she fought a strong urge to rest her head on the window, heavy-eyed; coming in and out of a cat nap. to a restless young heart, this was enough to reset the day into night. by the time she stepped out of the bus, she was fully charged, fingers idly messaging nari, seconds away from their dorm,  and a ‘good night’ to her grandma’.

as the door flung open, she raised her arms in the air on cue, bent wrist and all, reassuring nari she would be up to no good. “hi, bitch! seriously, a day without you has been unbearable,” she emphasized by throwing her arms around nari, hugging her tight. sizing up the outfit nari pulled together, she puckered her lips approvingly, a hand trailing the blood stained details, “you look too good!" as real as their connection was, anna still found herself reverting back to old roots. she winced at the accent in her words, the exaggeration in her tone a farce of it’s own. the mixture of korean and english a testament to her unsettled nature. “hm, i could go as like, a sexy janitor to match your vibe?” she asked, taking the other by the hand to regress to the bedroom. she indistinctly grasped at the necklace nari gave to her, rubbing her thumb over it for reassurance, nerves, out of joy, all of it. waiting for approval, or to be molded into another idea. 

[skeletonites]

☼  i.w.

“there are about 5 humans in this bar, and they’re not necessarily having a good time,” ilse said easily, taking another sip of her water. “no, i’m not everyone else. but if you knew who i was, it would be trouble for me. it seems like idiots are in short supply these days,” ilse told him, looking the man dead in the face. “i don’t care for drugs, they fuck with you. life already does enough fucking.”

“i’ve answered your questions, now you answer one of mine- what are you thinking right now?” although he was somewhat irritating her, ilse had nothing else better to do. sure, she had lost visuals on her “client,” but she would find him again. ilse wasn’t anything if not extremely self-confident. 

-

* ╱ 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙠𝙡𝙚𝙨

●︎ when: january 1st, 2020 ●︎ where: elysium, rapid city ●︎ with: @everilse·

“couldn’t agree more.” all commentary was left until the end, paired with a raised brow in pure fascination. he appreciated a cutthroat tongue in a sea of senseless flatteries. but those who desire to be left alone often clash in the pursuit of a covert life. the frustration was blatant and he could only smirk at her trait.  that earned the blonde a vantage point best left alone. he was only compromising for her question. “find out for yourself,” he said, closing his eyes. a touch like lighting was placed on her exposed left hand and he pushed for his thoughts to transcend into hers. he wasn’t invading hers, only allowing her to see what he wanted. a scorched and barren land, raw bodies impaled on rotted wood stretched in infinite rows, the woes and cries of victimless villains flood the ear in tragedy. it was not a vision of the future. it was a reverie and his holiest intentions. 

he regained sight on her features, releasing the illusion and exposing her to a slice of life. not of his nature, of a scheming desire to bring death on earth. she could deduce he’s a twisted bastard with a sick sense of humor or, “do you wish to know more of my thoughts?”

[skeletonites]

♞ m.m.

─ 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐭

› when: january 9th, 2021 › where: wither nightclub, rapid city.  › with: @skeletonites​

this kind of behavior would never be tolerated within the walls of mott manor. their parents bore countless children and each of them were raised to avoid arguments. in his youth - macaulay could remember his father sitting down the twins and forcing them to look at one another with respect. his advice was simple but stern, “we do not raise our voices in this house, we improve our points until our argument is won in the correct manner.” the wytch knew that his father would be so upset at this scene between quarreling lovers but macaulay was finding it hard to control his emotions. as the other screamed at him, the boy stared back at valentino with a cold, distant stare that would freeze the warmest of hearts. as a man used to control, macaulay felt like he was losing his stronghold and felt as if someone was taking a match to his paper castle. never in a million years would he think valentino would suggest the unthinkable and already he wanted out of this nightmare. seeing the other clench his fists by his sides, mac felt a sense of unease between them for the first time in their relationship. this wasn’t like the man but it was a casual warning sign that he couldn’t ignore. “what do you think i’ve been doing, val? this whole time we’ve been together…i’ve been that one person who vouched for you, stood by your side, and had your back when no one else would!” he answered back as the other closed the distance between them. 

valentino reached for him, another warning sign that made him uncomfortable in this exact moment. the anger was fuel to the match and if the other wasn’t careful, he could cause macaulay to react out of pure instinct with his own powers. the man’s touch was rough and not in an enjoyable manner in which they were accustomed. this was born out of frustration, serving an emotional reaction that was no doubt placed within val’s lap from his father. as the other softened his touch, hands falling to his waist - he pulled from the man and forced distance between them. the wytch moved to the other side of their shared office desk and placed his hands on the table, his touch igniting a slow rot across the tabletop. “…then don’t be a coward. Don’t start this conversation without the gall to voice what it is that you want.” he spoke, macaulay’s words were dry and void of emotion. 

* ╱ 𝖛𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖔 𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖝

●︎ when: january 9th, 2021 ●︎ where: wither nightclub, rapid city ●︎ with: @primordias​​​

he could be reduced to dust in the way of macaulay’s gaze. the first time val’s felt on the opposite side, unequal to him. not in the literal sense, because haven’t they always been? he traded lucius influence for one he could share a bed with, to later find love, but still thinking blueblood men could make good use of his amoral tendencies. the trinity to the lords. dark noble words in the end couldn’t fill the terrible hunger inside valentino. he knew it was there from birth, from peeking behind the oak tree, from earning a permanent burn reminder on his features. what he wants is more, more of everything and nothing at all, and his primal method of action could never be trusted. “i’m not denying that, and that’s exactly my point! i’m asking you to do what we’ve done before - maintain an image for namesake,” but much like his hands, calloused and rough forcing macaulay to break apart from him, his ill-reasoning does nothing for interpretation. they’ve gone round and round to the initial root of their problem. he was selfishly putting his interest over mac, still stubbornly holding onto an idea, a dream in his head rather than reality. it seemed the more he hated his upbringing, the more it brought him closer to it’s values. so, coward was befitting. now that he understood loud and clear. the night was an ode to the past, the flaws and faults he’s hated became his pain to bear. his eyes glancing from the rotting table and macaulauy’s detached face, he truly believed love was violence, to love or be loved was brutally hard. he was less afraid of mac’s powers than of his thoughts, how he wished to peek inside and map out a way for valentino to stroke both heart and mind.

“legacy. something other than this -” exasperated hands raised in the air, as if he was making a point and not a cop out. “this nightclub, and people i don’t care to entertain.” it wasn’t a secret he didn’t get along with mac’s crowd. that was surface level, not the entire picture. he long gave up on trying to appease the rest of the lords - as little as they involved him, the better. his ties began and ended with macaulay, a passion that could turn feral. the entire picture was the one he saw with pandora, a spotless home, and a waddling toddler running to her arms. but valentino sees two dreams. the other vivid and just as blinding of macaulay’s holding onto a faceless child with the widest, warmest smile he’s ever seen on his lover’s face. family. in it’s traditional depiction, he wanted what he lost and froze the heart of his. his fault for smoldering the warmth of others for his comfort. ‘i wish i wasn't such a dreamer. i've ruined this life for myself.’ [x] he thought somberly. he halted midway walking towards macaulay, his head hung low, afraid to meet his eyes.

[skeletonites]

✭ t.a.

* ╱  𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒉𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒊, 𝑨𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒊

●︎ when: January 2021 ●︎ where: Moonlit Label - dance studio ●︎ with: @skeletonites​ (Annamae Song)

  Practice was Asami’s time to let loose. To not be so rigid, dancing’s the best method to break down her barriers and see a fraction of her vulnerable, fun side.  She enjoyed the slight competition within her squadron, but Anna was almost like a sister to her.  Whenever Asami would witness Anna kind of polish her composure, or presently, trying to flex her dance and magic - it made her smirk.  Asami endures a great deal of restlessness losing her free-willed power to read anyone’s mind. Now a maiden, with a decluttered brain that allowed her to fill in her own thoughts, cautiously. “Okay girl! Let’s see it,” she thought.

The duo relaxed into the song - hours they spent filming mindless dancing bits to upload online paying off. “I wanna try this sixteen count I’ve been mastering. Can you keep up?” Back faced towards the camera on the wall, she relayed the switch in style and final steps fast enough for Anna to catch on. Asami slowly swayed her body, readying herself for the beat to drop. She fell into her moves - arms flailed with precision, twirling into a split and hairflip; facial gestures providing non-verbal queues to the vibe of the routine. The count fit perfectly into their new project. It was also a ‘break’ from the kitschy K-Pop dance routines they’ve been made to rehearse. Asami adopted being the protagonist of the group when it comes to the choreography. She believed her voice would get her far, but for her dance always carried a story. She let her body talk.

Rounding off the count, finishing with the groups signature pose. Asami shook out off, in a sense, her stage presence. “What you think, sis?” Asami asked Anna for her opinion, hands on her hips, chest heaving to catch her breath. 

-

* ╱ 𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈

●︎ when: february 2nd, 2021 ●︎ where: moonlit label, yeoui insland ●︎ with: @roversnight​ ( asami )

by the count change, she locked onto the flow and asami’s words. she indulged the moment, adapting smoothly to the hyper energy asami led with and counted on anna to follow. it was contagious to be around her assertive persona. they would breeze past each other in the choreography with strange unison. anna almost didn’t mind asami stealing the performance, venturing into a inevitable ‘solo’ performance that was starting to become a fixture in their relationship. anna wished to be unfazed, unbothered or at least on par with asami’s confidence. they had different roles to play, and it was public knowledge asami was tasked to carry a crown much heavier than anna’s. but the heart is a fickle matter, while the exchange wasn’t forced, she felt it: envy creeping in. but anna’s blind faith in asami, moreso in the group and COLLEKTIVE as a whole, could not stir the bubbled up resentment that was eating at her. 

she ended the routine with her eyes ranking the other’s figure up and down, out of frustration, and desire. of course, as soon as she was asked, a beaming smile etched her features. to be liked and belonged meant more to her than petty unrest. “absolutely perfect! you hit that split flawlessly.” not necessarily an opinion, but surely what they both wanted to hear - that they were perfect. “hyper-stylized poster girls. that’s all we’ll be!” she recalled nari’s vexed confession as they sat in the suite’s balcony, a star-lit sky in front of them marking a moment she won’t ever forget. but she can’t help it. she’ll place her life on auto-pilot to such standards, smiling through aching bones. she let her hair down to cool off, fanning herself by hand as she grinned from ear to ear. she couldn’t wait to soak in cold water, light up a sage incense, and let her body heal. except, a sixteen hour day still stretched ahead. “m-maybe we can show the other girls at the end of today’s schedule? they’ll freak over it.”

[skeletonites]

©

[skeletonites]

Rainer Maria Rilke, Book of Hours: Love Poems to God; from ‘Ich war bei den ältesten Mönchen, den Malern und Mythenmeldern’, tr. Anita Barrows & Joanna Macy