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I. What's a Devil to Do/Harley Poe II. Autumn Sonata/Ingmar Bergman III. Caitlyn Siehl IV. Unknown V. Elektra/Sophocles VI. Oderint dum metuant/Caligula VII. Unknown
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People say hate is a wasted emotion, a destructive force that oneself can do nothing useful with. They're wrong. Medea Irvine has gripped rage, she has wielded it like a weapon.
That she has learned from her house, there is no place like home. But the house does not just come up out of the ground, it has roots, not that kind,roots to its surroundings and it's past as another form. Their skin and blood come from a past that will always be embodied into it. Subsequently, the house is haunted and the people that live in it. The body sins once, and has done with its sin , for action is a mode of purification. Nothing remains then but the recollection of a pleasure, or the luxury of a regret . Once hands are stained with blood, must stay stained, for that, they will never know how much of evil they are.
It is the brain, and the brain only,that the great sins of the world take place. What the fire does not destroy, it hardens. Medea perceives this through her family. In the way her father chokes himself in the desire of power, to be at the top of the world. In the way her twin brother drowns his misery of abandonment from their father in art. In the way her mother avoids her own daughter like death because she is scared of the resemblance between them and finds herself trapped inside a bottle of liquor. In that way, the more hurt Medea gets, the more venomous she grows her hatred.
