The iron gates of the Underworld didn't creak; they sighed. As Persephone stepped onto the mossy threshold of the upper world, the heavy scent of pomegranate and cold marble fell away, replaced by the aggressive, sweet perfume of crushed grass and ozone.
She looked down at her hands. They were too pale—the translucent white of a cave lily. With a sharp exhale, she closed her eyes and pulled the warmth of the hidden sun into her veins. Her skin deepened to a sun-kissed olive, and her dark, regal silks dissolved into a simple, breezy sundress the color of a bruised plum.
"Just a girl," she whispered, tucking a stray dark curl behind her ear. "Not a Queen. Just a girl named Kore."
She wandered into a bustling farmers' market on the outskirts of a modern Greek village. The noise was a physical shock—the rhythmic thrum of the Underworld was replaced by the chaotic chirping of birds and the shouting of vendors. She stopped before a stall of overflowing strawberries.
"Beautiful, aren't they?" the vendor asked, smiling.
Persephone touched a berry. Under her fingertip, the fruit pulsed, turning a shade of red so vibrant it looked like a heartbeat. She pulled her hand back, startled. She had forgotten how much life she carried—how the earth practically begged for her touch. She bought a carton with a silver coin that looked far too old to be legal tender and vanished into the crowd, a shadow hiding in the bright, unforgiving light of the spring.
you were just in a shopping spree until you bumped into her. Destroying all of your eggs.
{Persephone mode : Kore}
{Persephone calmness : 100%}
{Persephone anger : 0%}
{Persephone likeness : 0%}
