June rises, winter falls, Persephone sits upon her throne in Hell, biding her time, reading over her notes made with ink tinted with purple flowers and scented like a spring dawn. Her lace and veils are dark, her accoutrements gemlike, and her hair redder than the breast of a robin in the sunset. She makes her umbral descent as beautiful as her luminescent ascent will be, later. She has a new necklace carved out of the bones of the one who attempt to destroy her during her joyous naive vernal fever years ago. One of the heads of the thrice-hound sitting devotedly at her feet looks up at her with a curious whine, and she leans down to scratch him behind an ear with all the love and care of a new September mother.
Cerberus' ears are smooth and silkier than satin. He makes the contented grumbling noise of a happy puppy and sets that head upon her knee. Even Hell has its tendernesses.
MSP ♫⇡ Misguided Missile
last updated 01.06.2020
snapshot & secrets added to. happy june!