brinebaptism

..  ♰.  ]          .INTROSPECT :  [ I KNOW WHY THE CAGED BIRD SINGS . . . ] 
          	she waits— SEETHING , a copy amongst the sea of vermin boiling to the brim of vengeance ; starved of justice , and SALIVATING virulence . she suffers a bleeding tongue — biting it for years she’s cut clean through . her mouth floods blackened crimson pools enticed with forbidden magick that signatures her lips in the coiling smirk that creases in her leer . catholic from birth , voodoo through family , a child bartered away to a crass nunnery for a better life ( FOR HER MOTHER , OR FOR HER , THE ANSWER WAS VAGUE BUT THE QUESTION WAS FORGED AND TRUE : WHO ARE YOU ? )
          	
          	bread and worn through the paddle whips of strict nuns , she was taught early the cruelty of the church ( RESENTMENT AND VENGEANCE FED THE BONE SCRAPS IN EARLY ADOLESCENT YEARS , only growing and flourishing ) . taught early the consequences of disobedience or wrong behaviors , she be conditioned that unjustly wrongs be PUNISHED with equal or greater acts of VIOLENCE . she took the wrong lessons .
          	
          	grown with a special tinge of resentment to adult figures of authority and loveless care , she was an actively treacherous juvenile . no one wanted her , no one would adopt her or take her up as her own . she learned quick the unkind nature of the world early on — how they spit at you and laugh , how they slap you down for daring to be inquisitive to the curious systemic structures of esse around you , how they expect you ( a young woman ) to submit and fail .
          	
          	‘ WHO ARE YOU ? ’
          	was a question she couldn’t answer , a question that kept her awake at the hours of twilight — she knew what everyone else wanted of her , aside from what she wanted from herself ( for herself ) .

brinebaptism

{PT. 3} but she’s not done . her judgement will befall ALL who wronged her ( especially her family ; and now .. . that’s extended ) her wrath will devour the man who breathe still , who took away the people she ever cared for first ( WHO SHOWED HER TO CARE ) , and she will tear him limb from limb and deliver his soul STRAIGHT to hell . 
          	  
          	  [ . . . A CAGED BIRD STANGS ON THE GRAVE OF DREAMS / [ HER ] SHADOW SHOUTS ON A NIGHTMARE SCREAM / [ HER ] WINGS ARE CLIPPED AND [ HER ] FEET ARE TIED / SO [ SHE ] OPENS [ HER ] THROAT . . . TO SING / THE CAGED BIRD SINGS / WITH A FEARFUL TRILL / OF THINGS UNKNOWN / BUT LONGED FOR STILL / AND [ HER ] TUNE IS HEARD / ON THE DISTANT HILL / FOR THE CAGED BIRD / SINGS OF FREEDOM ]
Reply

brinebaptism

{PT. 2} but a hand of kindness , a hand of care slipped into her life — perhaps a chance of hope ( a FAMILY ) . they’d taken her out of the impoverished life that weighted her to a ground of rot and debility and gave her more than anyone could ever — EMPOWERMENT IN SELF AND HEART .
          	  
          	  the only ounce of love she’d ever been shown her entire life until it was , like a candle flame , snuffed out without warning .
          	  
          	  a midnight pyrate raid turned into a WITCH HUNT on the dreadful discovering of vodou ‘neath the nose of the crown ( THEY WERE DISGUSTED AND COMBATTED WITH RETALIATION ) . the chaotic gaggle of terror stricken busy-bodies flooding the streets as shots rang out by the spanish army in ricocheting bullets through the screams of men , women , and children .
          	  
          	  through the crowd , she’d only loose her family to the vicious hands of the ejército de tierra ( AND THE NOOSE ) .
          	  and through her grief she would feed the broiling , spitting ire that drowned and scorched her sorrows in a longing , retaliatory taste for retributive justice .
          	  
          	  in the years to follow , she’d search for ways to enact her justice — dawning with a fatal deal with the devil himself, guede ojun , to do WHATEVER SHE MUST to bring the wrath of pain and suffering down on her assailants , like the brutal force of wormwood .
          	  
          	  though , what she wouldn’t know for years to come , was that her exertions would lead her to fill the gap of her paternal pedigree .
          	  
          	  what she wouldn’t know was the black ichor that drowns her veins and smothers her rotting heart ( BEATING AND PULSATING ) THROBS with the unbeknownst blood of a PYRATE . 
          	  
          	  a pyrate who’d make anyone recoil in a possessing wrath — ( CAPTAIN ) JACK SPARROW .
Reply

brinebaptism

..  ♰.  ]          .INTROSPECT :  [ I KNOW WHY THE CAGED BIRD SINGS . . . ] 
          she waits— SEETHING , a copy amongst the sea of vermin boiling to the brim of vengeance ; starved of justice , and SALIVATING virulence . she suffers a bleeding tongue — biting it for years she’s cut clean through . her mouth floods blackened crimson pools enticed with forbidden magick that signatures her lips in the coiling smirk that creases in her leer . catholic from birth , voodoo through family , a child bartered away to a crass nunnery for a better life ( FOR HER MOTHER , OR FOR HER , THE ANSWER WAS VAGUE BUT THE QUESTION WAS FORGED AND TRUE : WHO ARE YOU ? )
          
          bread and worn through the paddle whips of strict nuns , she was taught early the cruelty of the church ( RESENTMENT AND VENGEANCE FED THE BONE SCRAPS IN EARLY ADOLESCENT YEARS , only growing and flourishing ) . taught early the consequences of disobedience or wrong behaviors , she be conditioned that unjustly wrongs be PUNISHED with equal or greater acts of VIOLENCE . she took the wrong lessons .
          
          grown with a special tinge of resentment to adult figures of authority and loveless care , she was an actively treacherous juvenile . no one wanted her , no one would adopt her or take her up as her own . she learned quick the unkind nature of the world early on — how they spit at you and laugh , how they slap you down for daring to be inquisitive to the curious systemic structures of esse around you , how they expect you ( a young woman ) to submit and fail .
          
          ‘ WHO ARE YOU ? ’
          was a question she couldn’t answer , a question that kept her awake at the hours of twilight — she knew what everyone else wanted of her , aside from what she wanted from herself ( for herself ) .

brinebaptism

{PT. 3} but she’s not done . her judgement will befall ALL who wronged her ( especially her family ; and now .. . that’s extended ) her wrath will devour the man who breathe still , who took away the people she ever cared for first ( WHO SHOWED HER TO CARE ) , and she will tear him limb from limb and deliver his soul STRAIGHT to hell . 
            
            [ . . . A CAGED BIRD STANGS ON THE GRAVE OF DREAMS / [ HER ] SHADOW SHOUTS ON A NIGHTMARE SCREAM / [ HER ] WINGS ARE CLIPPED AND [ HER ] FEET ARE TIED / SO [ SHE ] OPENS [ HER ] THROAT . . . TO SING / THE CAGED BIRD SINGS / WITH A FEARFUL TRILL / OF THINGS UNKNOWN / BUT LONGED FOR STILL / AND [ HER ] TUNE IS HEARD / ON THE DISTANT HILL / FOR THE CAGED BIRD / SINGS OF FREEDOM ]
Reply

brinebaptism

{PT. 2} but a hand of kindness , a hand of care slipped into her life — perhaps a chance of hope ( a FAMILY ) . they’d taken her out of the impoverished life that weighted her to a ground of rot and debility and gave her more than anyone could ever — EMPOWERMENT IN SELF AND HEART .
            
            the only ounce of love she’d ever been shown her entire life until it was , like a candle flame , snuffed out without warning .
            
            a midnight pyrate raid turned into a WITCH HUNT on the dreadful discovering of vodou ‘neath the nose of the crown ( THEY WERE DISGUSTED AND COMBATTED WITH RETALIATION ) . the chaotic gaggle of terror stricken busy-bodies flooding the streets as shots rang out by the spanish army in ricocheting bullets through the screams of men , women , and children .
            
            through the crowd , she’d only loose her family to the vicious hands of the ejército de tierra ( AND THE NOOSE ) .
            and through her grief she would feed the broiling , spitting ire that drowned and scorched her sorrows in a longing , retaliatory taste for retributive justice .
            
            in the years to follow , she’d search for ways to enact her justice — dawning with a fatal deal with the devil himself, guede ojun , to do WHATEVER SHE MUST to bring the wrath of pain and suffering down on her assailants , like the brutal force of wormwood .
            
            though , what she wouldn’t know for years to come , was that her exertions would lead her to fill the gap of her paternal pedigree .
            
            what she wouldn’t know was the black ichor that drowns her veins and smothers her rotting heart ( BEATING AND PULSATING ) THROBS with the unbeknownst blood of a PYRATE . 
            
            a pyrate who’d make anyone recoil in a possessing wrath — ( CAPTAIN ) JACK SPARROW .
Reply

brinebaptism

`         y'all wanna cb for something ?   
                      - to cb for a short starter ( as short as i can be im sorry if i give you a novel ) specify mood / scene bc i need direction 
                      - to cb to plot ! comment 'yar' and i'll pm you

pyratics

/  bruh hit up narissa or verónica or both of you’re feeling juicy ily queen 
Reply

oceansredd

/           intro pls       !     also yar     -    i'd love to plot     ! 
Reply

oceansredd

/       i stan

oceansredd

/      uno block u wanna fite
Reply

brinebaptism

@oceansredd .
            `             i can go all day,,   no u -
Reply

oceansredd

/        uno reverse
Reply