i don't even know what this is. there was going to be more. maybe one day there will be more. but i like this so far.
The Rest is Detail.
There once was a girl.
She was pretty smart as people go, or so they told her, and she saw things. She saw how empty the world was, how meaningless, and smiled as she saw it.
She liked being alone.
She saw hatred and depression, angst and indifference, and she laughed as it twined about her.
She felt pain like a friend.
She lived a life of fantasy, saw things as they were not and could be, but refused to change them from how they were.
She held burning fire.
She breathed out ink and smudged paper and a thousand lies that were only halfway true.
"Truth is elusive;" she told them. "Look there it went. You had it and you lost it and it's gone and changed again. Catch it and hold it better next time. The longer you hold it the more true it'll be."
She whispered of perspective, of unknowable truth, of things that worked against you in the depths of hellish night. She licked sultry lips of braided wire and made things beautiful in her head.
She had a brother, dark as the moon, twinned to her in every opposite way. He lied his truths and spoke of hate and turned things round within his head. He made things wrong as she made them right and they loved each other as only siblings could. With long thin hands and disjointed grace he twirled the fates of the world in her hair.
He bared black teeth against a pale blue tongue and spoke words that sounded vile.
He saw things at their worst, when days were long and water wet, and the inevitable betrayal of a friend came back around again.
Joy was inside his skin.
He saw a world of peace and hope and kept it back from desperation.
He ended the world again.
He was smarter than her in a relative way, but no one knew because you cannot test your gods.