Infernal Feminae / Scarlet - Tumblr Posts
@infernal-feminae
The general shift in her mood expected during this time yet it never failed to catch her off guard. Hell shackled her powers...to a certain extent. Nothing she couldn't rip free if she wanted, both the chains and control was an illusion during these days.
The usual pride only found in traces in her walk, only the steeled clacks of resolve to not crumble, to not lash, out to not break. even further Strangely sweet scents beckoned, called her; Cindy's curiosity getting the best of her. She...had to visit, so she might just investigate the source of floral scents instead of aimlessly walking.
The shop seemed more like a small garden of how Eden possibly looked like. How...was that possible to cultivate life, a blooming one in this ring? Or in Hell at all. Arms safely wrapped around herself, a frail defense, a weak source of comfort and mostly to not accidentally ruin any of the beauty with the slightest touch.
Rich raven hair and small statue caught her eye among the flurry of colors, a nervous swallow; she couldn't risk to knock on anything.
“Excuse me Miss...do you-” voice tinted with her distinctive rasp along with the usually well hidden pain
“Do you happen to have violets?”
Mother; sweet, only mother
She waited till moonfall as always; the silver light of her former reliever illuminating the silent steps of the once only Spirit of Vengeance. Even the scythe of the crescent moon seemed mournful, well aware what evil had been committed 33 years ago.
Once kneeling at the grave, Cindy began to arrange the flowers of bouquet she always brought, handpicked, only the best for her mother even in death. She did her best to remember flower language she explained to her on a humid summer afternoon with pictures so bright in the aging book. First, the crown of lilacs for family, white daisies woven close for innocence, blue hortensia petals covering the center for gratitude the way she raised her. A white lily interwoven with a lively pink orchid: Cindy's never passing mourning along with Viola's everlasting image of a graceful, beautiful, loving mother.
Her hands shaky by the time she was finished with the little altar which was always more appealing in her imagination than the final picture. Her legs no longer could support her, the marble cool even under her touch. Today she wasn't the Fire. The Creator and Destroyer of Worlds. Only a child who lost her mother.
“Happy- I don't know if this day is happy for you.” more rasp coating her voice than usual, three days in a year Cindy visited. Mother's day, on the day of Viola's death and on the day of her death. A child running to her mom for safety from harm that already befallen.
“I...I got the violets from Hell. From a very kind lady who- reminded me of you.” and every day she would talk until she passed out from exhaustion and slept through the remains of the night, curled up next to her headstone. Safe.
“Yes I have been going down to Hell for fun. I know how it sounds but I'm actually staying out of trouble...mostly. Well, better than I do up here.” the child admitted, a shaky hand reaching out to caress the orchid
“And I met someone.” glowing orange flowed from her fingertips, the ghostly flames swirling gently.
Slowly they took shape of a woman in a long, flowing dress and the gentlest possible expression on her face, also sitting on once pristine white marble gravestone with a pure smile and soft glint in her eyes. Deep down, Cindy knew it's only her magic that could make these moments as close to reality as possible; her tears always began to flow like a restless river of pain.
“His- His name is Erebus. He's...not like anyone else I've met or been with. He's kind. Gentle. Respectful. Talented, shy, guarded and mom, he's so beautiful.” inside and out but she couldn't say more per moment. Viola silently smiled and waited for her daughter to continue as she always did.
“He's an artist. A musician as well. We've both been helping each other in different yet so similar ways. He both can sing and play the guitar and he definitely didn't expect my voice.” the tiniest laughter before emerald blurred with liquid fire glanced up the radiant woman
“You would like him. I love him and I think...he feels the same. I really love him mom.” Cindy hasn't admitted it out loud so clearly before “I only didn't ask him to come with me visit you because...” because I'm not sure if he can. If he would get hurt for getting out of Hell. And I don't know the depths of horror I would unleash if he's harmed.
“Maybe an another time? If it's alright with you” the figure didn't respond no matter the agony pooling in the eyes that held the very universe within
Cindy unconsciously moved to hug her, desperate, foolish and hopeful that one day, it might be different. She passed through the semi transparent glowing stardust of a figure; an inhumane yet so human wail of agony tearing from her throat. Rivers of fire began to flow uncontrollably, her pain searing into the marble as swirling burnt orange with faint stars trapped within.
Hours passed till she somewhat could regain composure, after all she wasn't done yet. Haunting melodies carried by the wind filled the empty cemetery, a soul beyond repair singing her unquenchable sorrow. She sang without regard of strain, not when her only audience could never hear the true depths of her gift.
Sang until she collapsed against her headstone, trembling hands slowly readjusting the flowers of the crown while half conscious. It had to perfect. Just like she was. Cindy couldn't remember her eyes falling shut, her body giving away a year of exhaustion as she slept undisturbed, safe from night terrors, cradled in her mother's lap.
Her voice was kind. That was the first conclusion; melodic, pleasant to listen to with an interesting lilt to it. Jade flickered towards the mentioned object, a quick glance at the now seemingly harmless fingertips. It would be awfully rude to ask the lady for such mundane task, on the other hand so is accidentally burning down her shop because she's a mess.
Pathetic.
Instead Cindy decided to occupy her mind with other details instead her own misery as she reached for the violets which had a slight blue tint in their petals.
“Everything is so...heavenly. No, that's not a good comparison. Heaven is barren compared to all this wonder.” she was quite surprised she managed to form complete sentences, the possible hints of what she exactly is slipping without care. She probably won't see the flower lady ever again...even though she seemed to radiate familiar tender kindness.
“That would be all...I made sure there are some left for others after me. I just...need plenty of violets.” the entity glanced at the small bouquet protectively yet gently cradled in her hands
phoenixborn:
@infernal-feminae
The general shift in her mood expected during this time yet it never failed to catch her off guard. Hell shackled her powers…to a certain extent. Nothing she couldn’t rip free if she wanted, both the chains and control was an illusion during these days.
The usual pride only found in traces in her walk, only the steeled clacks of resolve to not crumble, to not lash, out to not break. even further Strangely sweet scents beckoned, called her; Cindy’s curiosity getting the best of her. She…had to visit, so she might just investigate the source of floral scents instead of aimlessly walking.
The shop seemed more like a small garden of how Eden possibly looked like. How…was that possible to cultivate life, a blooming one in this ring? Or in Hell at all. Arms safely wrapped around herself, a frail defense, a weak source of comfort and mostly to not accidentally ruin any of the beauty with the slightest touch.
Rich raven hair and small statue caught her eye among the flurry of colors, a nervous swallow; she couldn’t risk to knock on anything.
“Excuse me Miss…do you-” voice tinted with her distinctive rasp along with the usually well hidden pain
“Do you happen to have violets?”
Scarlet turned when the bell hung above her door rang, signaling the arrival of a customer and smiled pleasantly at Cindy. Her brows rose slightly, not expecting for the sinner (at least she assumed the woman was a sinner) to look so...human.
Still, the poor thing looked scared? No, that wasn’t the right word. She looked like she might fall a part at any minute. While her first instinct was to ask if the woman was okay, Scarlet did not have a chance to voice her concern before the fiery-haired woman had asked her a question.
Blinking owlishly, it took a moment for the imp to process Cindy’s question. “Oh, um--yes! We do carry violets. There is a vase of them on that shelf to your left, honey. You’re welcome to pick as many of them as you’d like and I can wrap them of your ya.”
Mother; sweet, only mother
She waited till moonfall as always; the silver light of her former reliever illuminating the silent steps of the once only Spirit of Vengeance. Even the scythe of the crescent moon seemed mournful, well aware what evil had been committed 33 years ago.
Once kneeling at the grave, Cindy began to arrange the flowers of bouquet she always brought, handpicked, only the best for her mother even in death. She did her best to remember flower language she explained to her on a humid summer afternoon with pictures so bright in the aging book. First, the crown of lilacs for family, white daisies woven close for innocence, blue hortensia petals covering the center for gratitude the way she raised her. A white lily interwoven with a lively pink orchid: Cindy's never passing mourning along with Viola's everlasting image of a graceful, beautiful, loving mother.
Her hands shaky by the time she was finished with the little altar which was always more appealing in her imagination than the final picture. Her legs no longer could support her, the marble cool even under her touch. Today she wasn't the Fire. The Creator and Destroyer of Worlds. Only a child who lost her mother.
“Happy- I don't know if this day is happy for you.” more rasp coating her voice than usual, three days in a year Cindy visited. Mother's day, on the day of Viola's death and on the day of her death. A child running to her mom for safety from harm that already befallen.
“I...I got the violets from Hell. From a very kind lady who- reminded me of you.” and every day she would talk until she passed out from exhaustion and slept through the remains of the night, curled up next to her headstone. Safe.
“Yes I have been going down to Hell for fun. I know how it sounds but I'm actually staying out of trouble...mostly. Well, better than I do up here.” the child admitted, a shaky hand reaching out to caress the orchid
“And I met someone.” glowing orange flowed from her fingertips, the ghostly flames swirling gently.
Slowly they took shape of a woman in a long, flowing dress and the gentlest possible expression on her face, also sitting on once pristine white marble gravestone with a pure smile and soft glint in her eyes. Deep down, Cindy knew it's only her magic that could make these moments as close to reality as possible; her tears always began to flow like a restless river of pain.
“His- His name is Erebus. He's...not like anyone else I've met or been with. He's kind. Gentle. Respectful. Talented, shy, guarded and mom, he's so beautiful.” inside and out but she couldn't say more per moment. Viola silently smiled and waited for her daughter to continue as she always did.
“He's an artist. A musician as well. We've both been helping each other in different yet so similar ways. He both can sing and play the guitar and he definitely didn't expect my voice.” the tiniest laughter before emerald blurred with liquid fire glanced up the radiant woman
“You would like him. I love him and I think...he feels the same. I really love him mom.” Cindy hasn't admitted it out loud so clearly before “I only didn't ask him to come with me visit you because...” because I'm not sure if he can. If he would get hurt for getting out of Hell. And I don't know the depths of horror I would unleash if he's harmed.
“Maybe an another time? If it's alright with you” the figure didn't respond no matter the agony pooling in the eyes that held the very universe within
Cindy unconsciously moved to hug her, desperate, foolish and hopeful that one day, it might be different. She passed through the semi transparent glowing stardust of a figure; an inhumane yet so human wail of agony tearing from her throat. Rivers of fire began to flow uncontrollably, her pain searing into the marble as swirling burnt orange with faint stars trapped within.
Hours passed till she somewhat could regain composure, after all she wasn't done yet. Haunting melodies carried by the wind filled the empty cemetery, a soul beyond repair singing her unquenchable sorrow. She sang without regard of strain, not when her only audience could never hear the true depths of her gift.
Sang until she collapsed against her headstone, trembling hands slowly readjusting the flowers of the crown while half conscious. It had to perfect. Just like she was. Cindy couldn't remember her eyes falling shut, her body giving away a year of exhaustion as she slept undisturbed, safe from night terrors, cradled in her mother's lap.
Jaw muscles clenched with force that actually threatened to fracture her teeth, a small twitch of her right hand at the explanation.
“Certainly noticeable, their wonder isn't...artificial. I can almost feel it.” too bad hellborns didn't have a soul, Cindy would've bet hers would shine so bright, just like her- no that's a path she cannot go down yet.
Instead she focused on the lady's hands, gentleness in every movement, nowhere a forced or faux gesture that would be expected from shopkeepers. She was aware she haven't picked the most expensive flowers yet she wasn't coerced into possibly buying more or picking a bouquet. Cindy judged beings by her own- by the Universe's eyes and this woman was more of an angel than many born in Heaven.
The silent conclusion brought the tiniest of smiles as she took back the delicate flowers. Upon the words they were gone. Everything, from wrapper to petals disappeared in a flash not even leaving the faintest trace of ash behind.
Cindy stared down her empty hands with shock and disbelief, her vision blurring with each passing moment.
“I...That shouldn't have happened, the temperature was way too high without morphing, I don't know. This never occurred- I didn't do it on purpose I'm sorry! ” arms now back to their original position with nails harshly biting into skin without care. Don't touch anything. Don't think. Reconnect. Control.
“She...” won't be able to tell “her name was Viola and...she indeed would have.” Don't cry. Who knows what it will set off in this state.
“I will pay for them of course. I didn't-” her voice gave out at last, unable to bring her glowing gaze to meet the shorter lady's, afraid what would she see in them
phoenixborn:
Her voice was kind. That was the first conclusion; melodic, pleasant to listen to with an interesting lilt to it. Jade flickered towards the mentioned object, a quick glance at the now seemingly harmless fingertips. It would be awfully rude to ask the lady for such mundane task, on the other hand so is accidentally burning down her shop because she’s a mess.
Pathetic.
Instead Cindy decided to occupy her mind with other details instead her own misery as she reached for the violets which had a slight blue tint in their petals.
“Everything is so…heavenly. No, that’s not a good comparison. Heaven is barren compared to all this wonder.” she was quite surprised she managed to form complete sentences, the possible hints of what she exactly is slipping without care. She probably won’t see the flower lady ever again…even though she seemed to radiate familiar tender kindness.
“That would be all…I made sure there are some left for others after me. I just…need plenty of violets.” the entity glanced at the small bouquet protectively yet gently cradled in her hands
Scarlet had been complimented on her shop before, but this was the first time someone had said it was more beautiful than Heaven.” She blinked, taken aback at first but her same warm smile returned to her face, genuinely touched by Cindy’s words. “That’s awful sweet of you to say, hon. These flowers are my pride and joy and I treat them like I would a child--With love and care.”
She nodded and gently took the violets from Cindy’s hands, wrapping them up in colorful plastic wrapping and then tying a pretty bow around the stems. After ringing Cindy’s purchase up, she handed them back to the cosmic entity. “These for your mother? I’m sure she’ll love them.” Scarlet said conversationally. It was Mother’s Day after all so she assumed that’s what Cindy was here at her shop for. This was one of Scarlet’s busiest days of the year after all.