#hi harrow/nona and hi idris

[quietplaceinthestars]

If I had a nickel for everytime an author personified cataclysmic atrocities, the repercussions and the inability to reason with it on personal level unless you are a sad pathetic traumatic head injury and over all insane freaky powered weirdo with a codependent relationship with a woman who for one reason or another is unavailable, as a being or structure of unfathomable proportions that you can’t truly outrun or kill- with small offshoots that never seem to run out or stop. Then I would have two nickels. One for tamsyn Muir and the other for Adrian Tchaikovsky.