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𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗖𝗞 ﹐𝗪𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗢𝗔𝗗
allowing yourself to step on fire
shed tears on bloodied routes
eternally in hell we live, by
default … 𝗘͟𝗡͟𝗗͟𝗟͟𝗘͟𝗦͟𝗦͟ 𝗜͟𝗡͟𝗙͟𝗘͟𝗥͟𝗡͟𝗢͟!
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@TempoPurgatorio @GOLDENPURGATORY @backlitflames ⠀
< how would that even work … ? oh, not that I deny the possibility or anything. do we all each still get a voice, or is it like a devil on your right shoulder sort of thing ? >
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[ dante’s shoulders rise to what feels like a shrug before tapping their clock surface, pinching their thumb and index to one another. ]
[ “just a little” they agree on. ]
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[ well … it’s not half bad ? a stench is a stench, they’re more or less neutral on it. like when gregor comes in smelling of cigarettes — gotten since used to the smell, or faust’s tendency to come in with the slight hint of oil after working on the engine. ]
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[ they put their pad down against their leg, mulling the answer over in their head. leant side to side —— weight shifting to either foot. then, ]
[ … a thumbs up, (*👍 ) scratching their cheek. ]
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