The Prince Of Foreign Leaves
Often seen zipping and floating through the sloping mazes of his family gardens, this creature's true point exists fragile and molten, crouched in the corner of every bedroom. His beloved notary abandoned him to pursue a projected fate, so now he plays alone on a floating leaf hobbyhorse, content and blind. A tray of options belonging to his father rust in the northernmost corner of the garden. Thin air blankets his path at every turn and his home is gone. A happy hell.
The Ectopic Collar God
An array of silences patrol the court of this particular icon. He is forever swathed in a patchwork of stars; each a frantic pinion and a gateway to the whole life of His. Half black, half white when born he decays by half every second that his syphon clicks and worlds upon him mutate like blemishes. Lengthening secrets unwind around his frame like the great reverse unravelling jumper, buffering his backward guile and purpose inevitable. He licks at future systems with a cog-guided tongue and tatters of days hang slung upon his belt, pale and tepid. His dogs are vicious and his cats are poisonous.
