chapter 1 : Ilana, the charming snake.

Uroborosymphony, meaning the symphony of the Ouroboros. The ouroboros is a snake biting its own tail. The Ouroboros is historically, spiritually, and metaphysically significant as a symbol of eternity and progressively repeating cycles. Even though the serpent devours itself, it simultaneously regenerates, making its self-consumption and self-regeneration eternal.

Ilana is the charming snake. The songstress with an hypnotic voice to lure her preys into her den. She is the symphony in Uroborosymphy, the symbol. She is the medusa who only wanted to be loved, looked at and adored, and so will wear her heart on the palm of her hand with the intention of trapping you within in. Loving, she is, however as loving as deadly, if you venture and does try to seize that heart of hers. She has been living through the souls pouring their eyes, heads and money for her, her stage if her life. And for the ones looking a little too long, they might just turn into stone after they are left with nothing. She has a secret, the secret of her poison, the charming snake's venom that resides in her gardens, the flowers she grows and loves so fondly, they are poisonous.

It happens when the love you give her isn't powerful enough, isn't intense enough after she let you in. It is the tea she serves you in the afternoon with a slice of cherry pie that nests your last moments as she kisses you while you suffocate. Disappearing, she always does, running away, leaving behind a terrible secret similar to a snake shedding the skin. The story repeats itself, as insatiable she carries on, playing a new name with a new target yet the same operandi. A con woman, a con artist, that will never stop using of her charms to love her next victim and disappear with all his belongings when the poison kicks in. This way, Ilana always bites her own tail, chasing a love that she can never experience, that she terminates her with a macabre end, never allowing herself to break free of her own demons.

dead to sin, alive in God

              @stillresolved sent :

She lingers at the door to the guest bedroom. The last time she and Ara had spoken, it was…well, it didn’t end great. Although that probably is the last thing on Ara’s mind. Not the unthinkable (for her) has happened. Annie didn’t need any explanation to know what had gone down between Ara and Ara’s, well, now ex-boyfriend. It’s been a few weeks since Ara has barricaded herself in the guest room and for once, it’s Annie who has been the active one, the one moving between the interior and exterior of the house. It’s odd, actually, being the one relied on for once between them. Ara was always the strong one even back then. But Annie knocks on the door and opens it a moment later. “Are…Are you hungry?” She asks, holding up a plate of apple slices. “I…I cut up an apple for you. I peeled the skin too.” ( and i'm here too!!!....for some wholesome and sads arannie content 🥺🥺🥺 )

The room is silent. Sitting down the bed of the guest room, Ara's knees are brought against her chest, tight. In this position she has been staying for hours today. She does that, sometimes as she lets time flies, as she converses with what she sees and hears in her head. Time has felt like a dragger slowly slinding inside her core, a core she has been stripped of it seems, losing the track of the days and nights passing. The tears sometimes couldn't stop, she would cry, and cry, and cry without never being able to sleep. The hunger became rare, the anger was raw and her mind has never been so loud. There is this cloud, of loss and solitude that surrounds her, wraps her, digests her a little more everyday. Sometimes, the voices and the faces she sees, they talk to her, they stay with her, they hold her hand. Other times, they make her hurt even more, they make her break every single mirror in the house, they make her want to die. It has been months now, that despite the painkillers her mind has never stopped but to get loud, louder, to the point everyone around could hear it. The abyss of a depression she finds herself in doesn't only come from the love of her life breaking her heart, it comes from the love of her life abandoning her, it comes from not being able anymore to fight her own drowning mind. I'm not Sick, I'm not sick, I'm Not sick, I'M NOT SICK.

She would say, to them, to him, to herself, she would yell, sometimes without even nobody around her saying the words to begin with, out of nowhere, dissociating, depersonalizing, moments and places and times where she couldn't tell the difference between what was real, what was not. There were eyes landing on her, whispers behind her back, nights at the Black Cat or at the garage where Grey and Taiyang found themselves having to take her away, tame her down. She remembers of these times they would whisper to each other, behind a door, away from her. The voice of Annie by the door takes her out of her reveries and contemplations. Annie and Ara, in the end they understand each other. They're both mad girls now. On the wall of the guest room Ara wrote, Ara draw, everything she was hearing, everything she was seeing, everything that has been building inside : the tales of a martyr, choosen as the savior and the bringer of a new world, the fires to purify it all, the persecutors perishing from the savior's hand. Her drawing is beautiful, macabre, tragic, the lines are either strong and mad or shaky and broken. There are words too, words written over and over and over again like mantras. To anybody, it would be hard to look at, it's unstable it's uneasy - to Ara, it brings her peace, as if she finally takes it all out to contemplate, she watches it for hours.. Hours, to the point it shall become the new reality. Yes, perhaps even more real than everything she has lived until now. Why cry... when none of everything she experienced with Taiyang, with the gang, here in seoul, is real? "Come in.." Speaks Ara from the bed without moving an inch. Her torments have transformed her eyes, the lines of her features, they are grave, saddened, she lost weight. Her eyes they twitch sometimes, they wander around, they widen and retract. Her lines, they soften for Annie, Annie always manages to pierce through the isolated monster that Ara was turning into. In fact, not once she has been wondering if she was a burden to Annie, if she was the dead weight in the closet Annie became scared of kicking out. They take care of each other, the same way Ara stayed with Annie when it was Annie's mind spiraling on her. "I'm hungry yes..." Ara did a lose weight, the type of consequences she herself couldn't see, couldn't care about much. Annie managed to make her eat, little by little, apples are fine now, the peeled skin is an adorable touch. "Can you sleep near me tonight, please? I can't fall asleep I think your presence helps..."

Flowers and metal vase by Andrea Belvedere (1652-1732)

  ara, and darkly delicately.

My tracker says I have 93 active threads across all my blogs ( I've archived all the "dead ones" = unanswered, deactivated muses.. so around 20 are archived threads) - 93 is such a high number it's shocking. But it also makes sense, since I joined in november 2022 so it's a year and a half, I track everything, and we do write A Lot. Damn what a trip

The receiving end of Ara's ire is like staring down the sharp edge of a knife. Her eyes are hard when they pierce into yours, merciless. Ara knows how she intimidates either by her known unstability, her eloquence, her gained superiority or a twisted mix of the three. It would have been anybody else than Annie serving her these words, it would triggered an erratic theatrical reaction of hers, a loud laughter of Awww are you judging me Honey? Followed by a grand exposé on how the world will be saved by her and the machinations in her head. She believes, more than her own existence, in this ideal she wants to create, perhaps to the point it becomes a dangerous fantasy she lives in, one she drags everything around her in. It's obsessive. It's called fanatism. Everything is different here. It's Annie. Annie being the one asking her these questions does seize her core. Ara is offended, a little hurt - wanting to believe Annie, more than anybody else would know what's in her heart and that every single action taken is to serve the causes she dedicates her life to. Despite Annie being careful about her words the way she always is, it is judgment. A brow is arched at first, then it's followed by a frown, the lines of her face resisting the urge to distort. "So you are judging me huh." A silence follows. A contemplative silence followed by slow nods from Ara's head, the type of slow nods of disapprovement that actually helps her to slow down, hold her tongue, the type of "I see" cold silence. Ara refuses to lash out, believing it is not Annie's intention to hurt her nor cause a fight yet it's hard not to. "Then tell me if my Choices are Oh so morally inferior. What does it mean to protect the neighborhood to you? Keep doing what we have been doing for YEARS?" Escalating, the last word is almost yelled, she clenches and unclenches her fists, back and forth like a mad woman trying to refrain to raise tone, to control what's always creepling under her skin. Ara is impulsive, it is something she never truly worked on. She attacks, she yells, she overpowers but here, here she is trying. "I won't' protect shit by remaining a lowlife, what we've been our entire existence : victims. There are young girls out there who are currently living the same fucking lives we lived, or you know what, even WORSE, at least I never had to sleep in the streets nor did I got abused by my own alcoholic father who lost his job because he was considered too old to serve some company who treat their employees like stoke. But I swear to fucking God that's what's happening on the daily. Do you know why?" She crosses her arms. "It's a pyramid. In a world where money is power, the only way to stop this madness is to climb the ladder, seize that wealth to be able to redistribute it. And how the FUCK am I going to do that if I don't fight equal to equal? Stealing from the Rich occasionally, we've done that, it's not enough. I need to break the cycle and to break the cycle I need to step inside of it, become part of it and make it implode from the inside." A sigh follows as she paces a bit, stretching her neck, thinking, she's jittery. "This dress - " she starts again, pointing at her own self, stopping where she is, eyes back to Annie. "That's the weapon I need to see eye to eye with the persecutors, I need to be close to them if I want to dare to take them down and dilapidate them all. But I'm all ears if you got a better idea." A sarcastic scoff escapes from her lips as she looks down shaking her head again, her hands on her hips this time. "I bet you don't. No one has. I bet this isn't even your point nor your wish to protect a goddamn neighborhood no, you just wanted to call me a sell out. How long have you been thinking that of me huh?"

"I think I've done a pretty good job." (Naeun to Ara)

"You certainly have." The words of the Quinn are spoken as she comfortably is sitting down her cushion of leather. Here at the Black Cat in the middle of the day, the lights are dimmed inside and there is silence, only the gang members traveling in and out, from here back to the garage, attending their assigned missions as Ara handles this one. A glass of her favorite cocktail is brought by Grey, to whom she adresses a corner smile that means : I will tell you all about this later. Her eyes then linger on the usb the detective has provided containing the information Ara hopes will unlock the situation. "Do not mistake me for a lazy bee Sweetheart, despite being the queen of the hive, there is nothing I take more pleasure in that the investigation play, discover the faces of my enemy by myself before burning them to the stake." A sip to her glass. "Sadly, they have stepped in too close. Not only Lee being a target, they entered our den just to get rid of Dr. Choi. I for sure know I'm on their watch, too. I want the moment I step in to get them to be their last." Rare are the times Ara does not underestimate her enemy. This is a serious matter after all, the attempt assassination of Lee has changed the gang, for the better and the worse. There was a before and an after the day of the gunshot. Her other hand seizes the usb, one she will run later, eyes examinating the piece and thern going back to Naeun - first she wants to hear what's on it. "Walk me through it, tell what you got."

Weren't they supposed to be a family. The answer to this question could only be cynicism. A cynicism that has opened a new chapter in her books, every day scratching a darker page than the day before.. Her who never believed in the word family, her who rebirthed once she found one by his side. Ever since they parted ways, the Queen has deserted their appartment, getting one for herself at the other side of the city, away from the clubs, away from the night life, aways from it all. Often, watching by the window over the city, memories of the view from her balcony at the Black Cat happened to be dancing in her mind. In these memories, she can barely hear the music, she only watches the crowd, the gang, her loved ones, dancing, celebrating, laughing - in these memories they call for her, they call of her queen, to join them. With time it happened more and more, for her to stand away, to watch from afar, to dissociate from the moment, to miss pieces of the present as if she knew the day would come for her head to break, for it all to slip away from her grip. She remembers Grey hurrying to bring her another glass of her favorite champagne, Taiyang seizing her by hand. There is something contemplative about this delve into memory lane, realizing it all became something she deep down knew she would lose. The way her mother did. Losing it all. Isn't it dangerous after all, to build a life around certitude? Around the words of someone swearing they would die for you and yet. Ara snaps out her reveries, eyes coming back to Yoona. It is interesting how, without her crown, their dynamic of dominance and dominated remains. Ara always behaved, commanded, demanded to be feared, that's how she believes respect is earned. Is this how Yoona always felt, fear? Or so Ara thought, until she hears right here, right now, the other admitting she misses her presence. The shadow of a smile could appear at Ara's lips if her features hasn't hardened so much. It wasn't all fear back in the days, it was companionship, comfort. After all, Ara did take care of Yoona after she left the Octogon - the queen never had the full story of why the yakuza would ever let her go , she could only imagine how bad the life of an escort can get. In a way, Yoona hasn't stopped behaving the same way she has when working at the dirty club: filled with servitude. A woman of confidence like Ara could look down on Yoona, for never daring to step out her submissive role, yet Ara understands there is comfort in it. Comfort in having a roof, comfort having people to come back to. Black Fang was that for both of them.. In a way, Yoona was always someone Ara could come back to at the end of the day. The harsh eyes of the vengeress never wither only the shape of her brow arching. Does she need help. The Quinn has never been so active, finally stepped out of this depression. Now, she is more set on her goals than ever. "You wanna come with me?" Unepexcted, she thinks. "I never mistook you for the type of slut who would try to bed warm him the minute I'm out of the picture. I told myself, no matter what.. This one, she's loyal." The vengeress makes two steps, the sound of her ranger boots silent on the floor, away from her usual high heels click clacking. On one of the shelves she catches a helmet - not her current, an old one that nobody dared to take away. "I'm rising an army." The words are pronounced. The Quinn has a plan nobody but herself knows about, the type of plan she has always had somewhere in the back of her head yet didn't need due to having a gang, a family, something to stay alive for. Not anymore. "If you're serious about coming with me, you're gonna have to do what I do, Doll. Every day, we ride. In the night, we sabotage. No holding back. All the men who looked down on us, tried to lock us up, we exterminate. I'm not a diplomate and I'm done pretending to be. I don't kiss ass, I don't do alliances so if you stand by me, you won't make friends. I got 30 soldiers." Terrorism. Her words are firm as she throws the helmet for Yoona to catch. " You're in or not?"

  ara, in the mental palace.

"I lay outside of myself as I watch from the above. Distorted images of my own, the retrospective of alterned emotions and memories. The hundred eyes I laid on the world as I aged, they toyed with me, dancing around endless song melodies that has been rotting inside of my head. She, she is sitting by my side as she always has. We are safe here, she says, my hand in hers. As long as you don't let any of them in. My face morphs into hers and hers into mine. I am the daughter of my mother. A canvas of horror and truths and finally, I find myself. It is peaceful, to stare into the abnormality of the shape of my brain bent back and forth, eaten from the inside by its own hunger and insatiability."

  ara, en velours.

Source: https://pin.it/3fN863v

"( That's the difference between Ara and Annie. Ara acts like a martyr. Annie is a SURVIVOR. )"

Quoting @stillresolved the line is a masterpiece.

Headcanon post or diary entry about the martyr complex and depersonalization that comes with it for Ara.

i’ve been so worried about you! ( Yoona at Ara;; hER IDOL who she hates a teeny bit because she envies her so much but also lowkey loves her because THAT’S MOTHER… BLACK FANG’s MOMTHER….. 🥺🖤 )

Ara glances over her shoulder as soon as the door opens. Her who hoped to not cross a single soul when taking the risk to come back in here. Here, the first floor of the garage, a place that used to be her home too, a place that seems to have been deserted little by little. A month now passed ever since the Taiyang and Ara decided to take different paths or well, ever since he took that decision for the both of them. The vengeress did not want to cross paths with him nor with the rest of the gang, truly. All dressed in black, a tight tech attire, bulletproof, far away from her usual latex, leather, fur and jewelry. 30 days have passed since she has not heard Yoona's annoying voice, and even though a part of her wanted to tell her to fuck off, to go away, the shut up, to leave her alone, the words the other spoke did touch her. "Have you?" Questions the ex leader, emptying the cabinets from what to seemed to be silencers for guns that she waited long enough to come and collect. If the Quinn has fallen deep in sadness and despair for days, slowly it has been replaced by something else, something that has been crippling under her mind, waiting to break through her skin. "Thought you would be happy to know the crazy bitch making your life a nightmare would be gone, Doll." A sardonic laughter escapes from her mouth. A laughter from a voice that seemed to have dropped a few octaves than usual, ever deeper, raunchier, on the edge and yet every single one of her gestures were controlled. Her features, if anybody would look from too closed, seemed disturbed as well. Not in a manic phase type of way, but as if this dormant pain has suddenly marked her features harsher and harsher. No red lipstick, no loop hearings. Turning around, the vengeress clocks the silencer on the gun in the fast mechanic move of an assassin ready to execute her target. Ara did not want to stay, actually on her way to a mission, her own missions now. Many would think she did drop the vigilante life not having the gang by her side : well, quite the opposite, The Quinn has become entirely something else, an entity amputed from her minions and wealth, radical, extremist, one who did not come to play nor negociate. The moon is reflecting on the disturbing lines of half of her face, the other hidden in the shadowss she now faces Yoona from afar. "Haven't you heard? I am absolutely Fine. The voices in my head are so loud, apparently everyone can fucking hear them now. Isn't that beautiful?" Ara explains pointing at her own forehead, her eyes widening with a grin as she taps against her skull a few times to indicate her brain. " So why would you be worried huh? I have never felt so free." Her words sound like relailed bike, a rusty chain, a mechanic doll on repeat. We are free, we are free to do as we please, the voices were right all along, we are going to set everyone else free, nobody is going to stop us, they are all so close minded, they were just slowing us down. "You. You okay?" The gun is shoved down the pocket by her thigh. The question is harsh, but meant. Yoona and Ara used to spend their days together, besides their complicated relationship, Yoona became someone to her, someone she has been deprived of when having to cut herself off the gang.

The dress is Valentino. Made of the purest velvet one can find, it reflecs the light as Ara moves in it. Her hands run down her hair, adjusting the way it falls down her exposed shoulder. The Black Fang Queen, more and more, together with her Black Fang King have been invited to oh So Many parties, events, inauguration soirées in the past month. This day, in wealth, estate, influence, power they are stronger than ever. You're going out again. Annie's voice echoes as Ara's attention is now on her friend. A wide natural smile appears on Ara's lips as her eyes catch the sight of Annie through the mirror, her hands extending to invite Annie in the room. "Yes my love I'm going to the W party tonight it's going to be Absolutely Amazing. Do you want to come with me by baby darling? I have this Givenchy dress you would be fantastic in," Her words are meant, she would love to do Annie's hair and watch her blossom in beauty in the dress she has in mind for her. The frown on Annie's face however, the tone was already an answer to Ara's question. A silence. And then. Annie speaks the words. "I don't." The first answer that comes out of Ara's mouth is an obvious statement to her, with no space for hesitation. However, even if Ara wants to pretend she doesn't understand the meaning of what Annie truly means, she can't - here, standing in a 10000 dollars dress that not even selling her life back in the days could have made it affordable to the Ara from the past. "Our goal is to become more powerful than them. With the social status we earned, with the alliances we built, we are untouchable. I have to reach to top in order to take them down, you know?" There is almost irritation in Ara's voice when speaking these words as they already sound like some sort of justification to something she never thought she would have to justify herself about, not to Annie, who knows Ara's core, who knows Ara's motivation behind every one of her actions... Right? "What are you trying to say? This time, Ara's features harden when asking the question.

a pool of blood and no body suggests homicide. (from: naeun, to: anyone)

Two women, two grudges, a mutual hunger for life to give them back what have been taken away from them. If during the day Naeun and Ilana have pretty simple lives, when the night and the masks fall, the chase is restless. It all began one night, at the Black Velvet, Ilana singing in her golden dress. Her back was exposed, revealing the softness of her skin where her camarel locks cascade down, and there, a tattoo of a majestic snake in her back, a snake tangled with flowers. Where did you get this, Who are you. Were questions Naeun asked to Ilana, following her backstage, a glock on Ilana's temple. Only a smile errupted from Ilana's lips to the question, not flinching at the glock whatsoever. "Tell me Beautiful, what did they do to you? " Ilana answered. Back in her days, the songstress has been involved with them, them who have seemed to cost a family to Naeun - mayhaps. "They ruined my life, too. Sadly, they're all dead Sweetheart. I believe Hells will take care of them for us." Ilana simply spoke. "I didn't want to kill it my Snake. I fed him with flowers. Isn't it beautiful this way? My mistakes are engraved in my skin." A bond flourished, from Naeun's thirst for revenge, from Ilana's unbroken link to her past, both chasing the unchasable. Tonight, it is another night for them, around a glass of merlot by the counter of one of these dirty yet lowkey bars in Itaewon. This time, they started studying the pages of records Naeun did receive from this eccentric japanese man, the pages listing every single man with a snake tattoo that has ever been seen. The ones Ilana has been involved with, the ones who died in a pool of blood, pictures were attached. "A pool of blood and no body suggests homicide." Speaks Naeun, as indeed no body was found.

"Ghosts, mm?" Whispers Ilana, her long cigarette in between her hands, her doe eyes observing the pictures. "How beautifully macabre. I do remember this day. About seven years ago it was, I did stay at home to take care of Luna as I have just given birth to her, my little moon. A friend called me, announcing me they all died. Oh, I felt so free." Ilana takes another hit, pensive. "Are you saying they could still be alive? Why stage their own massacre? "

  ilana, by the sea.