Anonymous Text

[allinhishands]

What stern ungentle hands
Have lopp'd and hew'd
And made thy body bare
Of her two branches?

Why dost not speak to me?
Alas, a crimson river of warm blood,
Like to a bubbling fountain stirr'd with wind,
Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips,
Coming and going with thy honey breath.
But, sure, some Tereus hath deflowered thee,
And, lest thou shouldst detect him,
Cut thy tongue and pretty fingers off.

Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee
O, could our mourning ease thy misery!

M.O.C.

[ooc: And this kicks off the end of the plot! Thank you for everyone who has been a part of it. Body post as well as a post from Sam to come later!

Perma anon text for replies.]

Comments

[allinhishands]

No, I have to wonder.

[misterblackbird]

About what?

[allinhishands]

If you will ever truly come to know me.

[misterblackbird]

Do I know you at all?

[allinhishands]

That matter is up for debate currently.

[misterblackbird]

Answer me: what is your name?

[allinhishands]

Should there be a sequel, I will reveal a name.

[misterblackbird]

Fine. Then tell me what 'M.O.C.' stands for.

[allinhishands]

Demanding things like a spoiled child will not give you what you want.

[misterblackbird]

I'm not about to beg a murderer for answers.

[allinhishands]

This murderer would not give answers to one who begs.

[misterblackbird]

Nor would I expect you to, I suppose.

[allinhishands]

We should avoid that which is beneath us.

[misterblackbird]

Yes, of course.

[allinhishands]

Is there anything else?

[misterblackbird]

Since you don't seem inclined to answer anything, I don't see much point in asking you more questions.

[allinhishands]

Do enjoy your day then.