#the lady medusa.

[witchkillr]

IT TOOK YEARS OF STUDY TO GET HERE. agatha couldn't say how many - time is a strange, liquid thing, a concoction of mortals' to judge the lines of their existence by, a lens through which to sort the vastness of the multiverse into categories. as she has studied and learned and understood, she has come to the realisation that nothing is so simple. the flow of it slips through her charred fingers like water, and she lets it go.

distance is useful, even as she is in the throes of her plan to correct it.

here, incidentally, is the following place: a small suburban town, somewhere in the northeastern united states. a universe that is not her own, but is similar enough. a home that is also a prison. [ this is not something that has happened to her yet, or possibly ever will. she looks at herself, brought so low, made so small, and the dark thing sharing space in her chest roars. she is angry, too. she would be no matter the circumstance. ]

" what happened to you, my dear? " there is something of the roar in her inflection, a low, growling danger - blackened claws trace the line of her other self's jaw, already charting vengeance. that is to say: who do we need to kill?

plotted starter / @wcrpbubble.

[jadequarze]

[Medusa AU]

When hiatus, think of new AU to play with

[witchkillr]

" WHAT DO YOU TAKE ME FOR, DOCTOR? " his title comes to agatha's lips with as much weight as her name did his, though in her case it's a far more mocking affair. so many of his type prefer to style themselves as well-educated, top of their field, touting their intelligence like the weapon it could be, if only they weren't so obvious. agatha has a doctorate, too: several, in fact, all of them earned in highly unconventional ways. " some kind of scam artist? i'm not here to steal anything from you. think of me like ... an admirer. a fan of your work. "

her hands fan out before her, punctuating the point. it wouldn't do to let him think he has any real measure of her: agatha's aims, her goals, are famously her own. of course he knows of her, in a broad way, in the way that one with his abilities can research almost anyone - she does not dare to let it flatter her, much as she'd like to think it makes her special. instead, she allocates her resources carefully, ensuring that her mental shielding holds strong against the northern chill.

agatha steps forward. the heels of her boots click against the stonework, a hint of a smirk playing at her own painted lips. the mask is a concern; it represents a whole suite of cues on which she can no longer rely, but agatha has done more with less. his tone is telling enough.

" you wanna gatekeep? that's fine. i would, too. god, i just love these windows. "

The     light     carved     shadows     across     his     mask,     exaggerating     the     sharpness     of     his     features,     rendering     him     more     statue     than     man.     He     watched     her     —     the     deliberate     angle     of     her     posture,     the     calculated     way     she     tilted     her     head     to     catch     the     light     just     so.     Every     movement     was     a     performance,     and     she     played     her     part     well.     Her     words,     though,     were     another     matter.     He     let     the     silence     stretch     between     them,     long     enough     to     suggest     he     was     weighing     something.

When     he     spoke,     it     was     with     the     same     deliberate     cadence     as     before,     though     now     there     was     a     thread     of     something     darker     woven     through     it     —     something     amused,     but     never     quite     kind.     Stealing     them     to     the     ground     with     how powerful     his     gaze     would     judge     them,     grappling     with     the     prize     that     he     was     close     to     solving     the     puzzle     that     was     their     essence,     like     a     spectre     that     would     drift     too     close     for     a     cold     embrace,     haunting     for     the     wisdom     of     their     vitality.

"Sixty-forty,"     he     echoed,     like     he     was     tasting     the     odds     she     had     so     casually     thrown     out.     "Generous,     I     think.     Considering     you’re     still     standing."     His     gaze     flicked     over     her,     a     slow     sweep     that     took     in     the     immaculate     cut     of     her     coat,     the     way     the     shadows     danced     across     her     cheekbones,     and     the     wide,     knife-sharp     smile     that     threatened     to     split     her     face     in     two.     "Though     I     imagine     those     odds     drop     significantly     if     your     charm     fails     you.     And     yet,     here     you     are."      

He     continues,     "And     here     you     remain.     Uninvited,     but persistent."     There     was     something     knowing     in     his     voice,     a     note     of     recognition.     “You’ve     made     a     sport     of     it,     haven’t     you?     Slipping     past     the     walls     men     build     to     keep     their     secrets     hidden.     Invading     their     sanctums.     Watching     them     scramble     to     reclaim     the     power     they     pretend     to     wield.”     A     pause.     Then,     the     faintest     twitch     at     the     corner     of     his     mouth     —     just     shy     of     a     smile.     "But     tell     me,     Agatha,"     he     resumes,     her     name     rolling     off     his     tongue     with     careful     precision,     weighted     with     meaning,     "how     often     do     you     find     something     worth     keeping?"

[lyxchee-art]

Idk if I did this accurately

[kaban-bang]

2013 vs 2024!

[nilo05]

medusa

[witchkillr]

SHE'S ON A HOT STREAK: halfway through a six-deck shoe and the count is high. it's often places like this [ casino floors, hazy with cigarette smoke, transient pockets of scum and villainy ] that find agatha and death crossing paths.

presently agatha is ashing her own cigarette, pushing all in, and thinking. does she want to entertain this flirtation-cum-stabbing? does she want to get up from what is turning out to be a highly lucrative session and find new ways to dig her nails into death's open wounds?

" oh, i still do, " she says, at length. " not hypocrites, though, and that's what i'm calling you. shit or get off the pot, honey. "

her voice is raised on that last, for the benefit of the pit boss, the dealer, all the people death might be pissing off by lingering here. she's not paying enough attention to them to know if they care. all she's keeping track of, in this moment particularly, is a. the shape of rio's body in her periphery, and b. the honey-warm thrill of her doubled chips.

what of you, death? are you not a monster? / @witchkillr

A MONSTER. an identity she shifts between rejecting and embracing. death is peaceful, but it is vengeful. it's all-encompassing, unstoppable, and inevitable. everyone wants to avoid it, and she can understand why. there are few who love it, and fewer still who have loved it. none save for agatha, who have loved it wholly. the comment is clearly intended to be an off handed comment, but something about it strikes deep and true. rio's eyes shift, and the lines of her face harden.

that's the unfortunate thing with this hate between them, agatha is the only one who knows where to hit her to maximize the hurt. coming from anyone else she would've laughed or brushed it off.

the anger that flashes through her is unexpected, and not at all within her control. she moves closer and quickly, stance straight and tall, not unlike a defensive cat. "and what about you?" she growls, her voice a low rumble. an unfamiliar, darker tone lingers behind it, one she normally reigns in. a voice she only uses when she's not speaking, when her human form is forgotten. a voice only the dead hears. "you used to love monsters, didn't you?"

[dummy-dot-exe]

by 山中虎鉄TeslaCage@cotecote_sun

[lesbianshepard]

there's a lot to say about the modern depictions of medusa and all, but one of my biggest pet peeves is that it also portrays perseus as some sort of macho glory seeking ass who kills women for clout. like, he was protecting his mom. his mom was being forced into an abusive marriage and he took on a seemingly impossible task to save her.

[fukikoichinomiya]

bad apple

[witchkillr]

IT ISN'T OFTEN THAT AGATHA IS FOUND IN MOMENTS LIKE THIS: she makes every effort not to be, in point of fact, so used to the cycle of passing in the night that it is something of a shock to be caught in the midst of a ritual like this. her head shoots up, glancing over her shoulder at the brazen intrusion, and vanishes all evidence of her spellcraft [ analog magick, what a joke to she who carries the darkhold ... but necessary research, regardless ] with a sharp wave of her hand.

" the name's agatha harkness. " a sly grin curls her lips as she turns to face the other woman - the other witch, it seems - fully. " and yes, i am exceptional. so glad you agree. "

she stalks forward, her own curiosity lighting in her gaze. " but who are you, dear? most folks with witchsight know better than to cut in on my me time. "

@tempusde

"Hm..." Dionysia looked at the woman with fascination, curious of the magic that seemed to exist in this world. It was so much different than anything she had known before or witnessed in previous ones. Some of them had magic, but this was the first she had been to with what appeared to truly be another witch. Something seemed off, however, and Dionysia couldn't yet place what that was.

"Who are you, pray tell?" she asked, deciding to see what would be freely given without using magic, as it was less easy and more tantalizing that way. Usually, she toyed with humans to entertain herself, but she decided that this would be a much more interesting game. "You're a witch, clearly. But there's something about you."

[mythicalmuseomine]

Lady Medusa

Protector and watcher of survivors

Requested by @ironrainmain

I am taking requests.

[kirbro]

aka the palutena and medusa divorce arc

[haleighstrashart]

We're so baby baby

I haven't done digital in 5 months

I like to draw from memory so if they look off model mind ya business

[bestofsimoneashley]

Simone Ashley out and about in Versace recently in London UK 🩵💎

[sarafangirlart]

A lot of ppl think that Medusa was the protector of abused woman and girls who punished and killed abusive men but that’s literally Deer Lady, that’s her thing.