OH  HOW  HER  RAGE  STIRRED  behind  an  unfaltering gaze.     He  could  see  it  as  much  as  he  could  feel  it,   sending  the  most  pleasant  chill  down  the  skin  of  his  nape  like  an  icy  cold  touch  that  burned  as  hot  as  flame.     Powder  snow  fell  delicately  and  crunched  beneath  his  feet  as  the  Cardinal  crouched  to  pick  the  LAST  surviving  rose  from  the  churchyard's  hedgerow,   its  thorns  too  docile  to  penetrate  black  leather — black  like  the  entirety  of  his  ensemble  so  only  his  pale,   insipid  face  was  not  concealed  by  melanoid  darkness.     As  he  rises  to  full  height  he  clutched  the  flower's  head  tightly,   allowing  it  to  disintegrate  in  the  palm  of  his  hand.     It  bled  crimson  petals,   carried  away  by  the  gentle  but  frigid  winds.     Copia  then  discarded  the  crumpled  remnants  that  were  once  beautiful  and  alluring  mere  moments  ago,   watching  them  fall  sorrowfully  before  the  headstone  of  Papa  Emeritus  III.     His  cold  smile  is  befitting  of  the  symbolism  unfolding  before  both  himself  and  Annabelle.     She  looked  so  broken  yet  roused,   an  antique  doll  with  no  function  but  still  looked  PRETTY  sitting  on  somebody's  mantle  piece.

Winter  had  come  for  the  roses,   removing  them  of  their  purpose  and  their  splendor,   just  as  he  had  done  to  her.     He  pondered  in  that  moment  if  the  year's  end  felt  just  as  powerful.      ❛ Make  no  mistake.     Even  I  wouldn't  be  so  presumptuous  as  to  deny  that  troublemaker's  fealty  to  the  third  Emeritus,   quite  the  opposite  in  fact,   considering  his  heartbroken  retreat  after .  .  . Well. ❜      Copia's  eyes  roll  downward  to  the  withered  rosehead  and  grave  as  if  they  were  taboo  to  speak  aloud.      ❛ I  just  think  he  was  too  weak  to  overcome  his  despair  and  see  the  bigger,  grander  picture. ❜      He  knows  what  he's  doing.     He's  digging  beneath  her  skin,   teasing  old  wounds  while  making  new  ones.     Calculating  incisions.      His  eyes  immediately  dart  back  to  Annabelle's  in  hopes  of  catching  a  quick  FLINCH  or  two.

❛ At  least  he's  a  lot  more  durable  than  that  figurehead  he  loved  so  much,   knowing  he's  still  alive.    Ergo,   I  suppose  I  can't  speak  too  ill  of  him.    But  I  digress.    Wouldn't  you  like  to  see  how  he's  doing?     For  yourself  I  mean.     What  a  sweet  reunion  that  would  be. ❜      He  clasped  his  hands  together,    leaning  forward  with  a  sappy  expression  as  though  he  were  in  the  middle  of  a  pantomime  act;   Sheer  mockery.     What  does  she  have  to  lose  now  other  than  the  Quintessence?     Dangling  everything  she  held  dear  at  the  precipice,   chaining  her  to  his  ambition.    All  that  Copia  had  put  into  motion  had  flourished  in  resounding  chaos.    It  came  at  a  price  for  many  yet  had  apparently  left  him  unscathed,   allowing  him  to  slot  into  place,   exactly  where  he  YEARNED  to  be — Caressing  the  arms  of  the  papal  throne  like  the  embrace  of  a  lover  making  love  to  his  ego.     Indeed  he  was  virulent .  .  . pestilent.     And  indeed  the  Devil's  will  favoured  Copia,   cruel  as  sin.     He’d  led  Omega  to  believe  callous  fate  took  Annabelle  from  him,   to  ensure  his  constitution  would  shatter,    making  it  that  much  easier  to  shape  him  to  the  Cardinal's  agenda;   Without  her  knowledge  nor  the  Clergy’s.     He  couldn't  help  but  simper,   mulling  over  what  her  reaction  might  be  to  learning  he  had  been  so  CLOSE  this  entire  time,   tortured  and  crippled  deep  in  the  bowels  of  the  cathedral's  underpass.    It  had  been  months  since  he  ceased  to  speak,   since  his  flesh  could  withstand  injury  still  festering,   since  his  eyes  held  any  semblance  of  lucidity.     Tormented  in  every  sense  of  the  word.    Omega's  laughter  seemed  only  a  distant  memory  lost  beneath  the  fetid  corpse  pile  devised  by  none  other  than  Copia.    From  the  ghoul's  mouth  nothing  remained  but  his  soul  begged  for  mercy;   To  no  avail  for  he  would  not  have  it.

            Debauchery  ruled  the  Cardinal  and  his  cruelty  knew  no  limits — Like  sickness  his  venom  acted  slowly,   rotting  body  &  mind.    Relentless.    His  smile  was  the  crescent  moon  privy  to  plague - infested  Europe  crying  out  in  a  crescendo  of  screams  and  prayer  in  vain.     His  very  presence,   a  terrible  omen.      He  enjoyed  the  sound  of  cracking  bone  and  breaking  hearts.     He  stood  hauntingly  akin  to  a  wraith  amongst  a  sea  of  graves,   snow  dusting  his  shoulders  as  he  grinned  eerily  never  once  removing  his  gaze  from  Annabelle.     It  was  as  though  he  was  staring  straight  through  her  at  an  entity  looming  over  her  shadow.    He  did  not  move.    He  did  not  blink.     His  pupils  like  needle - point  possessed  by  something  grotesque.      ❛ A .  .  . Sweet .  .  . Reunion .  .  . ❜      He  uttered  again  ( but  far  more  forebodingly )  through  his  knife  of  a  smile  though  his  face  moved  little,   taking  on  the  appearance  of  a  waxen  effigy.       ❛ You  would  do  anything  to  be  in  his  arms  wouldn't  you? ❜      In  that  moment  everything  that  enveloped  them  came  to  a  halt,   colder  and  quieter  than  before.     Even  creatures  of  the  night  seemingly  fled  their  vicinity.      ❛ Anything. ❜       He  takes  a  step  closer;   Another  BITE  into  her  inhibitions.

• ⊰ CONTINUED  FROM  ( x )    /    @eiusvitaaeterna​​    /    because  tumblr  wouldn’t  let  me  turn  the  other  post  into  an  editable  reblog ⊱

Hauntingly beautiful

just like you. 

ANNABELLE ‌:

       Seconds away - she’s seconds from turning away from him. From reassuring, she wouldn’t have to bear the sight of him until she chose to. Seconds from a departure much needed. Instead, she discovers herself chained by his words. The intrusive questioning of her actions, as if he had any right to challenge her in any way. He mentions courtesy, his feigned skills in such a matter hard at work to assure she feels trapped. How qualified he is in such an action, this was no secret. Just as it was no secret to her that he was more than he led on to be seen. She remembers brief interactions with him during the passing years. The barely audible words, making himself out to seem faint-hearted when in reality he was a force stronger than most knew. She had suspected it, always had. The distinct force that departed from his body when they stood in the same room. The focused gaze, eyes filled with storms ready to ruin anything in its path. She recalls it all, the heaviness that followed behind him as he departed after an order was given to him - similar to her own. The aura of someone who did as told against their own pleasure; disturbing are the similarities. Like an animal, like a slave with no say, how used to such a feeling she was. She’s forsaken behind the unholy walls - forged into a weapon. Used at their disposal, belittled and decorated with the imagery of a queen. A queen with no rule, a Goddess with no satisfaction. He is just another reminder of the life she did not choose - another reminder of all she loathed and had lost. Somehow, he possessed the upper hand - how that left a bitter taste in her mouth.

      Manicured nails obtain a home in tender flesh, digging into skin that will soon heal. It’s a reminder, a reminder to not lose herself in her contempt for him. A reminder to maintain her composure - instead of letting verdant hues shift to pale grey. A warning to all that who threaten her, a reminder that she is not human. The piercing of soft palms is a reminder of the role she’s forced to play. Compliant, understanding - weak. Far from this she is, she recognizes this as much as they do. A threat dormant in her grief - regaining its own strength as the pieces of a broken heart trying to find their order yet again. Haunted by memories, plagued by her reality. All that kept her going, all that made her feel human, gone. Taken from her, forced away. How bitter she is, left cold by the absence of all that made her life worth living. She forces herself to stand tall or as tall as she can due to her situation. A true beauty, refusing to allow the broken pieces of whom she is to become visible to the eyes burning through her. No true protection, no one to care for her - no one to remind her of how worthy she is of love. Pathetic perhaps, to allow such connections to define her. Centuries it had been since she genuinely felt moved by anything other than pain and destruction - a feeling experienced by Omega’s presence. Now it is all drowning her, forcing her lungs to try and acquire air. An air that never lasts. Here stands one of many waves that threaten to end it all - adorned in black like death itself.

      Her gaze is that of a viper - focused on his features as his words confine her. Melodic the words that depart from his lips, yet she takes notice of the vindictiveness that drips from each syllable. Hidden in feigned enthusiasm. His tongue sharp enough to slice, cutting through her already damaged soul at the mention of Omega and his supposed lack of loyalty. How dare he? That Goddamn rat believes himself worthy enough to speak of her sole connection to sanity; a world where blood doesn’t need to be shed just to feel something. The sting against her palms intensifies as nails rip through the flesh, surely blood will decorate her nails. Only it’s not the blood of innocents or even those corrupt enough to be deserving of a life taken. No, it’s her own blood. Without physical action he got her to bleed her own blood. What a vile realization. Her gaze is penetrating, her own eyes piercing against his very gaze. He knows, he revels in the knowledge. She can see it in his eyes; it gets him off knowing he has this much control over her. Burning eyes and a clenched jaw give away the truth of how she feels, only briefly. The hatred threatening to spew from her mouth, the rage and violent bitterness she wants to suffocate him in. Unsteady is her heart - threatening to abandon her body as the moment’s pass. How tempted she is to make him bleed; to rip his damn heart out right where they stand.

      There is no trouble imagining such a thing, and she does. She imagines the warmth of crimson liquid trailing down her arm as his heart rests in her hand. Nails wounding the muscle, assuring its final beat. As dark as tar she imagines it to be, how could it be anything other than that? Not worthy of a second thought, or of a second glance. She wants to feel it in her hands; she wants to be the one to look into his eyes as his useless life fades from them. She knows better, however, knows his death wouldn’t be as simple as she wishes it to be. Nonetheless, the thought is tempting. The same thought that pulled her from the realities of the world she took part in, even if for a brief moment. Slow is the movement of her tongue gliding across her bottom lip as she forces her attention to rest on him. Her alert senses bring her back fully, the faint scent of blood lingering. Her own wound, burning - a pain she accepts more than she should. Skin coming together as it heals itself slowly. “Yes, how can I… Forget.” Her words fall slowly from her lips as darkened greens encounter his mix-matched hues. “No one knows loyalty like a Cardinal.” Neatly groomed brows raise slightly before coming together in feigned fascination. “Or patience. After all, so many years of being loyal and patient have truly been beneficial.” Now the malice is evident in her voice - the knowing tone. All wrapped up in feigned sweetness she wishes to make obvious.

      A blaze now burns inside her, a heat that radiates from her flesh. Undoubtedly he could feel it, just as one is able to sense the bitterly cold air that follows her recently. It’s a flame she’s willing to let burn brighter, the ice inside her heart slowly melting as the warmth consumes her. Her disdain for him burns violently. “So I ask, my dear Cardinal… To please practice your patience with me as I handle these relatively significant matters.” She doesn’t move away, she doesn’t turn from him. Rather, she moves closer. The silk and lace adorning her body resting against the black cassock that aided in his importance. “But I promise you, a drink will surely be had between us both. Just as I assure you that I look forward to that moment. It truly is overdue.” Crimson lips shift into a smile, sweeter than expected. “Now, my own loyalties rest with these very important matters. I’ll more than gladly share with you the details of the outcome over that drink.“ There’s a vibrancy behind recently dull eyes as she allows a distance between them both. Elegance follows as she turns from him - pierced skin healed as blood stains porcelain flesh. Her rage threatening to consume her whole as she disappears from sight. Departing from him without allowing words to depart from his lips.

       Her iron clad will was as infuriating as ever.   So was her beauty,  the two juxtaposed like rose and thorn.   She must realise by now how much amusing it is to ensnare such a catch and watch it WRITHE in the palm of his hand.    She’s no fool that’s for certain.    Perhaps there are remnants of a masochist in that vulpine body of hers —— Poor thing.    What a tragedy her life has been,  he thinks.    It’s all she knows.    Despite how pigheaded she could be that’s what made Annabelle such a glorious twist of audacity and,  in his eyes,  weakness.    She was his prey.    Nothing gave the apex predator a higher purpose than to hunt,  maim,  consume,   REPEAT.    That’s how it goes,  isn’t it?    Cardinal Copia had known what it meant to play the former —— he spent many years wearing that facade and perhaps at some time it might have been true but that is a skin he shed aeons ago in lieu of what he had become;   A tyrant.     Wearing the crown atop the pyramid .  .  . Well,  now he lives comfortably in his element adorned with a cold,  callous SMIRK.

         And yes,  oh yes,  he still relishes the shocking exit of Omega Ghoul,  a pillar within the Clergy and a piece on the chessboard that could have eventually come to move Copia from that glossy black square.     Annabelle had resolve,  and constitution.     He would give her THAT at the very least.     But she for so long relied heavily on her crutch and when that crutch lost his footing   ( it’s quite embarrassing really,  witnessing an otherwise diplomatic and level-headed ghoul go barmy at the loss of an Emeritus )    Copia kicked him when he was down because an opportunity is an opportunity indeed.    CHECKMATE.    Two birds with one stone as the saying goes.    Papa Emeritus III first —— Omega toppling down,  oops,   and there goes Annabelle .  .  . What a beautiful blood-red mess of collapsed hierarchy and their assorted lapdogs.   The Cardinal muses to himself that he must not become trigger-happy,  having already left a trail all too vicious and blood on his hands.    He’s almost certain that coppery scent hanged heavy around him like an aura of GORE and treachery —— one Papa Nihil couldn’t appear to ignore every time Copia made his appearance,  twitchy like a rat of his inflicted with nervous predispositions. 

          Unruly of him, even he would agree.   But that never bothered a man with nothing to lose.   It’s obvious by her mannerisms and aggressive tempo she had FIRE on her tongue and he was only fanning the flames —— methodically sparking something quite violent inside Annabelle,  to the point of Copia fantasising about her pressing a honed blade with his name on it against the flesh of his neck,  LAUGHING as she gave into those very weaknesses he knew still lingered somewhere in that battered heart of hers.    He would pluck it out one day and set it inside a bell jar as something to admire.    A trophy.    Would look rather delightful between The Third’s decapitated head and Omega’s mask.    He smiled,  humouring the thought.    He’ll allow her to walk away;  Let her have her moment of respite no matter how futile.   His smile is taut,  hiding away some deeper more SINISTER meaning,  but it’s a smile that didn’t read in his eyes —— No,  the look in those eyes is something also burning.

        ❛ Excellent. ❜       There was dissonance in his voice.  Calm,  but irritated.   His hands lay across his front now,  thumbs twiddling like the swaying of a pendulum.    He inhaled,  forcing greater volume.        ❛ However,  I really would prefer if you stayed now.   I insist. ❜         It’s not insistence as much as it was a COMMAND.   His word is law here afterall.         ❛ You’re a woman of good etiquette,   aren’t you? ❜       Copia had the sense he was tempting fate but,  she would be a fool to act upon those darkening desires.    In truth he had absolutely no reason to keep her —— no desperation to hold her attention.   This is all fun and games to him.    And they both know it.    A familiar squeak! made itself known by the Cardinal’s feet,  a rat,  looking up at him faithfully before darting off towards Annabelle.    The pestilent thing was like a part of him —— sharing thought and intention.     It cut her off from her path,  undaunted by its own size.    Copia took one step forwards.     The sound of footfalls and stone reverberated.         ❛ Unless .  .  . you’re not interested in the well-being of our beloved Quintessence,  mm? ❜

eiusvitaaeterna‌:

{ Cardinal Copia and Annabelle Rose Shadows: Random as all hell starter for  @copiac   }

          She had done so well in assuring their paths did not cross upon his return, now she stands in the very same hall as him. Her bones feel cold, her insides hollow as her gaze meets his own. Mix-matched hues a vicious reminder of all she had lost - of the souls she was still connected to. It’s unsettling, to be so unsure of where she truly stands with the being only a few feet from her. She doesn’t trust him; she can’t bring herself to. His rise behind the forsaken walls, his rise in the world - it left a bitter taste in her mouth. Slow is the breath that departs from her lungs, forcing her body to navigate down the path. Her features stoic as she moves closer. “Cardinal, I wasn’t expecting your return to be so sudden. Welcome back.” There’s no malice behind her words or the gaze that finds his own, still, she’s lacking in any genuine joy. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some matters to tend to.” Distance - she wants to maintain distance even if at times she finds herself thinking of the very same man she’s actively avoiding.

       ❛ Leaving so soon? ❜      His hands are behind his back,  fingers wriggling with icy anticipation,  like the hands of a killer desperate to wrap around her throat.    Copia made no attempt to mask his obvious pleasure in her torment —— Knowing his presence was nothing short of TORTUROUS to her.    He mocked Annabelle in every which way.    His voice,  melodic and cold —— His countenance,   derisive.     It amused him to see how far he could push her limitation and how tightly she held her tongue behind clenched teeth.

        ❛ I make my appearance and already you’re setting off.   Now,  I may not seem like it but I know a thing or two about courtesy and I really think we should sit down and have a drink to uh .  .  . let’s call the occasion a commemoration of my return!    Whatever ‘matters’ you have can surely wait.   Can’t they? ❜       A knowing glance ever SHARP and intrusive.   It’s rhetorical of course.   He’ll milk this for all it’s worth by revelling in her discomfort —— As skillfully as she suppressed it her true feelings did not slip beyond his scrutiny with the same finesse.        ❛ What a shame Omega Ghoul isn’t here to join us.    I sorta miss the way he glared at me like a wild animal.   A starved carnivore!    I guess loyalty to the Clergy didn’t matter to him all that much. ❜      Bet that stung.

Hello hello my dear.  Thank you so much for this welcome back message, all the same to yourself and I also thank you for your patience.  It feels great to be back and it’s equally great to see you around.  Hope you’ve been well!