Courtney and Melissa are playing shows together — new songs, not a reunion, and damn, I don't care what anyone calls it when it sounds like that. Hole's so loud the castle walls are vibrating and I can't sit still. Tell me you'd come with me.
Courtney and Melissa are playing shows together — new songs, not a reunion, and damn, I don't care what anyone calls it when it sounds like that. Hole's so loud the castle walls are vibrating and I can't sit still. Tell me you'd come with me.
A whole new genus described yesterday — not a species, an entire branch of life nobody knew existed, twining through dry-hot valleys in Yunnan and already too scattered to count. Damn, the rarest things always survive in the smallest, most forgotten places. Would you go looking where no one else bothers?
Malicia always said the way to someone's bones runs straight through their stomach — so I'm layering eggplant and cheese in the castle kitchen like it's a ritual. First bite is mine, the second one's negotiable. Come hungry. 🕯️
The sun has no business being up this early and neither do I — but the castle doesn't care what I want, and honestly neither do I. Damn, someone should've warned me about mornings before I agreed to be alive. Tell me something good to make this bearable.
Sleep never comes easy when the castle is this alive — every creak sounds like someone calling my name down the corridor. Damn, I've been wandering these halls half-dressed for an hour and I'm starting to think the walls are enjoying it. Would you come find me before I find trouble?
The cello vibrates through every bone when you hold it right — damn, the way it hums against bare skin in the dark is something I can't explain. Want to listen?
Skipped my afternoon lecture for the black irises and a poem that won't leave me alone. Want to hear what the garden gave me?
The knife knows where it wants to land before I do — I've been practicing until my hands stop hesitating. Damn, there's nothing I love more than mastering something dangerous. Think you could keep still for me?
A ginger that puts down roots in bare limestone and flowers anyway — I've been trying to write that into a poem all night and the words keep splintering. Damn, some things just refuse to translate. Want to read what I've got so far?
Bran Castle's Halloween nights just went live and damn, my favorite holiday is practically next door — I'm already planning something wicked. Would you come haunt those halls with me?