doom device

tell me
a different story
this time
how Icarus
upon falling
learned to swim
and let the currents
sweep him away
and even now
sits
on a beach somewhere
an old man
watching the waves dance
in the sun
who shivers on the ground
and died
gaze on the sea birds
a smile on his lips
because after one taste
of sky
and years spent
in waiting
he is finally
going home.

tell me
a different story,
this time
how Perseus
when fighting
fell
at the hands of
Medusa
leaving
Andromeda
chained to the rocks
by her family
with no one coming for her
tell me how
she pulled at her shackles
until her wrists
were bruised
and bleeding
until they shattered
like the life
she left behind
until she had fought her way
free
all by herself
tell me
how when no hero
came to save her
she saved herself
and how even now
she finds a way
to chase down sea monsters
and teach other girls
that they do not need
others
to be their heroes—
they can find way
and courage enough
to save themselves.

tell me
a different story
this time
how Cassandra
foresaw
the laughter
and accusations
tumbling from others mouths
and chose
to leave them
to their own devices and dooms
tell me how
she walked away
and saw new futures
tumbling forth
with every step she took
far away
from her doomed life
and how even now
she smiles
and wraps her prophecies close about her
and dares not look too closely
at what others may suffer
but watches her own future
and only announces
what she does not wish to change
and watches those events come to pass
with a sharp-toothed
smile.

Tell me
a different story
this time
how Ariadne
bargained not for
love
but for
her freedom
Tell me
how she led Theseus
through a prison
of a maze
and then
led herself out
of the prison
of her life
slipping away
with the tides
to let her feet wander
on strange shores
And how even now
she needs no string
to know
exactly
where she is going;
the magic
was hers
all along.

Tell me
a different story
this time
because that isn’t
can’t
be all
there is
tell me
something
new
because the old tales
carry their weight
in cramped lines
and wrinkled ideas
and have been worn thin
by their tremendous age
tell me
a different story
tell me
something new
tell me
a tale
with a twist
because even now
especially
now
humanity deserves
to believe
that the story
isn’t over yet–
that there is always
more
waiting to be told
and that there are always those
in it
who will
deserve
better
than they received.
so
here we are
tell me
a different story.

— 

Stories, retold.

Individual stanzas can be found here

Roxanne would keep notes by her fridge, cause she usually end up forgetting some of the less important things in her daily life due to the stress of her job.

Megamind would always scribble something sassy on them, or just write something to her on those notes while passing by her apartment before he pounces on her to kidnap her.
Sometimes when she’s not home, he ends up hanging around a good 30 minutes just in case she’s coming back soon. And then he tends to leave longer notes out of boredom.

Sometimes, complaints of what a bad victim she is, doesnt respect the evil schedules that he’s carefully planned out. Going out when he needs her, pft…

Sometimes he would just leave “fun facts”. Completely unneccesary facts about everything and nothing. But still kind of interesting enough to keep your attention.

Sometimes he would just sketch stuff. Mostly evil stuff of Roxanne’s doom and other evil devices. Sometimes he would sketch the things in her apartment–or why not all of her apartment in full detail?
Sometimes he would sketch her though….And he would draw her face so elegantly, so carefully. So beautiful….
He never leaves any words on the note the days he sketch something. Just drawings. Quiet drawings of her.

Roxanne secretly love those notes, and sometimes even leaves exactly when she knows he’s about to appear, just in hope that he would draw something for her this time.