x x x x x x x x x ༓ mᥲrrιᥱd, ᥒot ιᥒtᥱrᥱstᥱd ιᥒ ყoυ ᥣιkᥱ thᥲt mᥲᥒιᥴ ᥲs ιvᥱ ᥱvᥱr bᥱᥱᥒ ιs mყ bᥱᥣovᥱd wιfᥱ shᥱ's obvιoυsᥣყ hottᥱr thᥲᥒ ყoυ shᥱ bυᥣᥣιᥱs mᥱ 𝟸
x x x x x x x x x somᥱtιmᥱs ι tᥱᥒd to ιsoᥣᥲtᥱ mყsᥱᥣf from othᥱrs. sᥣow rᥱsρoᥒsᥱs ᥲᥒd/or ιᥒᥲᥴtιvιtყ ᥲrᥱ gυᥲrᥲᥒtᥱᥱd dυrιᥒg thᥱsᥱ tιmᥱs. thιs ιs ᥒothιᥒg ρᥱrsoᥒᥲᥣ. ιsoᥣᥲtιoᥒ ρᥱrιods ᥴᥲᥒ ᥣᥲst for ᥲ whιᥣᥱ. bυt ι'ᥣᥣ bᥱ bᥲᥴk. ρᥣᥱᥲsᥱ bᥱ υᥒdᥱrstᥲᥒdιᥒg of thιs.
Covaire not as a name someone gave him, but as a word born from emotion— one that the dead started whispering before they even realized they had died.
| The Name That Isn’t a Name | "No God named him. No priest carved it into stone. The word just came—first in dreams, then in hunger, then in screams."
Co- – intensifier, or collective: "with / together / all at once" -vaire – inspired by: Vae (Latin: “woe” or “alas” – a lament) Avarus (greedy, grasping) Aer (breath, air, essence) Verus (true) twisted over time into "vaire".
[ Writhing, contorting, weeping. ] A soul that carries every unspoken wish humans died clutching.
Even the priests whispered:
He was not born. He happened. When too many died hungry. When too many prayed and were not heard. Their echoes stacked upon echoes— until a shape stepped from their silence...
And it smiled.
Custom
// to set his face like flint carrying a heavy, broken heart for the world around you.