#( clarice sackville. ) NOT NOW THE STRENGTH WHICH IN OLD DAYS MOVED EARTH AND HEAVEN.

[talentforlying]

clarice sackville: [...] that's really him, isn't it? the ΔΡΥΆΔΕΣ. swamp thing: ... the wheels ... the wheels of leisure ... i cannot feel them on my manicured fairways ...

can't help but think about how in the story, the cumaean sybil deiphobe withers away with age until all that's left of her is her voice, which gets stored in a jar . . . if you ask me, that's looking like a pretty voice-sized jar that now has a pretty big vacancy sign on it . . .

( she also acts as a bridge between the worlds of life and death in the aeneid, showing the entrance to the underworld, and where oh where have we seen that hollywood sign from dead in america #1 elsewhere in hellblazer before ... the story featuring a demon opening gateways to hell on earth, perhaps?

the story featuring the aztec god of death with a history of being booted out by new powers moving in? who said "with no breath or heartbeat dinning in my ears, with the noisy tides of blood all dried, all stilled, I HEAR EVERYTHING. / the roots of death's tree extend in two directions. into the human heart - and into the abyss of past time"? who now knows constantine and "has always known him", and thus maybe even knows him across universes, perhaps? )

[talentforlying]

clarice: i shall require the heart of the vampire. what the FUCK do you think you're laughing at. clarice five seconds later: i cannot BELIEVE they fell for that. shut up, john.

these pages make me laugh so fucking much every time. lying little showboats, the pair of them.