Wouldn't you like to use more than words?

[letsplayamod]

The last thing you recall is likely your own death. Whether it was fast or slow, it's over now. And you're... where are you?

One moment, you were among the living. The next - you may be one of the unfortunate ones who actually died. In which case, you've found yourself flowing in the lazy rivers of the river Styx, unfathomably deep underground. Just for a moment, mind you. It's not long before your consciousness is yanked from the waters by some scary monsters, shoved into a healed body, and pushed through a portal.

Or, maybe you were caught red-handed and sentenced to your doom. But, instead of a proper death, you were whisked down into the Veins of Tartarus. And there's really only one place that could lead to... Or is it?


You've been tossed down here by the will of the Titan, but what you find is A helping hand swooping you up - possibly literally, and potentially out of the grasp of the Titan himself.

Not a moment after, you're whisked through another rift, this one a shimmering gold. Into a realm of slightly more stable platforms and a lot more shit to look through. The area is practically littered with the ill-gotten goods of a thieving God (who is happy to note via pop-up illusion that you are touching his stuff). Here, however, you are safe; assured that Typhon cannot find or hurt you here.

For the moment, you can breathe before the next part comes.

Comments

[atu709]

[ it's funny how different it is to be jealous. for so long she had nothing - no hope except oblivion. love was something found in stories, and it is real of course because she is herself a story. but it would be transient. fleeting. and a cruelty to any other snow white less fortunate.

While there are many things that are untrue about all princesses, the fact that they fall easily into the patterns of love is not a falsehood. It is something that is expected, and one of the first illusions to fall away upon learning the truth of the Neverafter.

But she thinks of Rosamund, who kept her faith in love despite the unmaking of everything. Of Rapunzel, bitter and vicious. Of Cinderella, and their nights talking about what they suppose true love must feel like. And she thinks that there are much worse guiding stars than love.

Perhaps that's why she was made the goddess of it, before everything went wrong. That there is a Snow White within her that still yet holds faith in love, in the ability of connection between souls and minds.

Perhaps she will always wish it was her in Cerejira's place. She does not know. But there is no room for jealousy in Snow White's heart, because no matter how she loses her way, Snow White is Good.

And this is probably for the best. Brutal murder aside, partners of all genders tend to desire their bed-mates to not be the temperature of ice. It hurts, and it's not a hurt she is used to, but she is used to hurting, and she will figure it out. ]

... Good for them.

[ She means it. Whatever her feelings for Lebkuchen may be, it's her happiness Snow wants most of all. ]

[tailoredfate]

[It's not as easy to read Snow as it is to read, say, Ferdinand or Alex. It would be, if her powers were not dulled as they are, but... hm. Even without them, she can sense there's something... off. She doesn't want to say something is wrong, but she can feel the weight in the air.

She knows nothing she can say will really help. Empty comforts aren't really her style, and talking more about the pair might have the opposite effect. So instead, just as she did towards the start of all this, for the people she hadn't yet gotten close to...

She doesn't reach out physically. She just... lets her threads extend, briefly curling around Snow before fading. Like a cat rubbing against your legs as it winds through them and walks off.