#So anyways I likely had become infected myself and that’s why they all seemed so alive!! I liked that dream :) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fanby-fckry · 2 months

Note

Like I had a dream of Season 2 last night, and weirdly it seemed exactly like what Season 2 might actually be like in terms of reveals. Like it turned out Alastor was actually a fraud, he didn’t kill all those overlords when he first got to Hell, but rather lied and said he did, and began attaining some power over the years with that rep, never a lot but enough to beat out smaller names, that being why he was so dependent on smaller deals like those he had Rosie keep an eye out for. He wasn’t pacing himself but desperately trying to live up to the myth of the Radio Demon. And it turned out Husk had been more powerful than Alastor when he acquired his soul, and the day he did was just as stressful for Alastor as it was for Husk. Then Vox tried to have him join the Vees, Alastor turned him down since he didn’t want to truth of his power being much lower than thought being found out, they got in a fight, and Alastor was legitimately hurt but managed to hide it and leave before Vox realised, just as he did with Adam. Alastor then encountered the real force responsible for those overlords going missing: Eve, the first woman. Basically in the world of ‘Hazbin’, before Heaven and Hell, there was simply Good and Evil, literal personifications, concepts given awareness. Good was the first to gain mass, becoming God, creating the angels and then Earth, Adam, Lilith, Eve, while Evil was left a simple force, until Lilith formed the apple of free will and gave it to Eve, infecting her with Evil, and so she became its embodiment, God’s counterpart in evil. Who could be seen in the opening storybook in the first episode, Go(o)d a closed eye amongst clouds, Evil a red eye(s) and smile amongst darkness, I checked once I woke up to ensure that shot was real. So basically all descendants of hers, humanity, would have both good and evil within them: the reason Adam was in Heaven was that in spite of being a jerk, he never had Evil as a concept within him. So what neither Alastor or Eve would have known was that because of this, he was among the few that could ever kill her (Evil), and now that Niffty took him out of the picture, the only ones left who could do so are Lilith and Charlie, the only ones of human descent not to be infected with Evil on some level (angels not having the right stuff to make it work). Anyway my dream had it that Alastor and Lilith hadn’t really met, but once Alastor made his deal with Eve, and she got herself a representative, Lilith felt it, and immediately fled to Heaven. And we would find this out since in Season 2, overlords started to go missing again as they once did before, only this time Alastor couldn’t really claim credit. My dream ended before it was clear who had killed them, whether it was Eve trying to find a new rep (the process having dissolved the souls of most whose wills were not powerful enough to escape her, before she had found Alastor, who would have spent the seven years he was gone attempting to escape her mass, regain corporeality to act on Eve’s behalf), or whether it was Lilith trying to figure out which overlord was Eve’s rep and wipe them out, but it did feature Vox be killed later on in the season, and Valentino and Velvette had a beautiful mournful ballad in response to this, like with her being the source of all Evil in this world I could have seen Val apologists in real life saying all he did wasn’t his fault because of her, what her influence did, which wouldn’t be great, but the scene my mind came up with was (great). So anyway Alastor’s purpose would have been to prevent redemption within Hell from being possible, since it would ruin Eve. It seemed surprisingly plausible to canon as we know it: I was thoroughly impressed with my subconscious mind on waking up.

Anon, I am going to dramatically throw myself in between you and Apollo’s dodgeball like I’m taking a bullet.

Your subconscious is incredibly thorough and well-written, but I swear if any of that becomes canon I will cry.

Ok, so some of it seems fine, but my poor Alastor loving heart cannot take it if he turns out to be entirely a fraud.

Don’t get me wrong: The smile is a mask, he’s hiding his weaknesses, he’s hiding his Deal, and he is not infallible by any means. But I can’t see him having faked the whole thing to begin with, and I will be fucking devastated if that was the case.

Now, at the risk of getting this post as a copy-pasta in my inbox:

Yes, I am going to critique your dream.

In regards to Rosie offering up “smaller deals,” I just kinda have to say, they don’t sound very “small” to me?

I got a premo-connect on a guy with about eight blocks of territory and not enough goons to run it. Prime pickin's for a deal to be made, my friend.

I mean, sure, it’s not another Overlord, but eight blocks of territory is still a pretty big achievement. It’s possible the guy has some Souls in his inventory that Alastor could get access to, or that his Soul is worth more (either in terms of power or just for the bragging rights, lol) than your average Sinner’s.

Meanwhile, the Vees appear to be picking up ordinary, less powerful Sinners one at a time through exploitation and/or capitalism.

Of course, Alastor didn’t actually go for the guy Rosie offered up, which makes me think either:

He didn’t think it was worth his time.

He wanted to focus on Extermination 2 Electric Boogalooo.

He thought that discussing it in front of Charlie would damage her view of him.

Something in his own Deal prevents him from getting the most out of it. (People have talked a lot about how despite having a reputation as a Soul-stealing Dealmaker, none of the Deals post 7 year disappearing act have actually resulted in Alastor getting someone’s Soul.)

I think option 1 actually further supports the idea of Alastor’s power. He’s powerful enough that he can be picky about what Deals he chooses to go pursue.

Meanwhile, 2-4 don’t necessarily say anything one way or the other about his power before the 7 year disappearance.

And the one Soul we know for a fact Alastor owns is Husk’s. Who was 100% an Overlord. So it’s not like he hasn’t gotten at least one Overlord, one way or another.

As for the disappearing Overlords, while we don’t have definitive proof that Alastor was the behind it in the form of like video evidence or eye-witness testimony, nobody else came forward to claim the kills.

If it wasn’t Alastor, and Alastor took credit anyway, why is he even still alive? Er, after-alive? Why didn’t the mysterious Overlord killer kill Alastor for taking credit for their kills?

I’d be pissed if that was me. You think you can show up and claim my kills? Nuh uh, you’re next, radio deer.

Alastor is hiding something. And he’s coming apart at the seams trying to keep his secret, trying to maintain an image that does not tell the whole truth. But I don’t think it goes that deep. I think if it did, he would’ve crumbled decades ago.

#fanby answers #anon #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel theory #kinda?#alastor #id in alt text

17 notes · View notes

jeweledstone · 2 months

Text

Recent Trayte Dream I Keep Forgetting to Fucking Post

DATE: 2/4/2024

OKAY. SO.

This dream post is basically context for a doodle from that drawpile I made involving one of the newest characters in my dream lore, Trayte. Specifically this one.

For those not in the loop so to speak, Trayte was a character from a recent dream I’ve had who apparently knew me since my early childhood and had a tendency to have rather severe, sometimes violent, mental breakdowns. In the dream he was introduced in, he ends up being unwillingly transformed into Pizzelle from Sugary Spire, which caused his mental state to become even worse. He ended up blaming me for the whole incident and swore he would one day take revenge on me for it, thus becoming a re-occurring villain in later dreams.

This post is regarding one of those revenge attempts.

So basically his thought process behind this “revenge” was that since “I” turned him into the character he was now permanently stuck as, he might as well try turning me into some other SS character as a sorta ironic karma thingy. Originally he was gonna have me turned into Rosette because apparently he used to have an unreciprocated crush on me, but I guess the hate/spite became stronger than the crush cause he eventually changed his mind and decided to tf me into Pizzano.

This (technically) makes the 4th character from a media I like to invade my dreams and try to turn me into a different character from their source material.

My brain has recycled the same plot element. Four (maybe five) fucking times.

Which is what we in the industry like to call

FUCKING BULLSHIT

Anyway, back to the plot summary. Since Trayte didn’t have access to any sorta reality warping abilities like “Dream” and Elias or weird black magic like Pizzahead, he ended up taking a more science-y approach to his little revenge scenario by sneaking into my house while I’m asleep and injecting this weird serum into me that would not only turn me into Pizzano physically, but also eventually take me over mentally as well. (The mental part was so I could feel the same pain Trayte felt over his own mental struggle between keeping his old identity and slowly being taken over by Pizzelle that he’s had since his own transformation)

So that happens, and at first the serum seems to work as intended and of course, that’s got me freaking the fuck out. And it only got worse when one of the serum’s unintentional “side-effects” began to show.

You see, turns out the whole transformation thing Trayte designed…

Was contagious…

So yeah, fuck me, it’s the Spamton Virus all over again, and my family ended up being the first one to have it “spread” to them despite me trying to isolate myself from them in hopes they wouldn’t get hurt by me once I finally lost control. It was around this point I kinda-sorta blacked out as Pizzano took full control only to miraculously regain lucidity several in-dream months later.

By then the infection had spread rather exponentially and there were very few uninfected humans left. I remember at first trying to “blend in” with the other Pizzanos hoping they wouldn’t find out I wasn’t “one of them” anymore.

They… actually found out pretty quickly and I ended up being outcasted by them. The normal humans wouldn’t accept me either since even though I was lucid, I was most likely still contagious. So I ended up spending a good portion of the rest of the dream as a loner, trying to survive in this post-apocalyptic world of sorts. At one point, I was looting an abandoned grocery store looking for food and such when the plot started up again.

Turns out, some members of the government were still alive and trying desperately to find a cure or something for the infection, and they just so happened to be bunkering in a building right next to the store I was in. (No idea why they chose GROUND FUCKING ZERO outta all places to hide out at while the rest of society suffered but since when has a politician ever made an actually smart choice in their life, y’know?) I ended up encountering them while exiting the store and their first instinct was to basically take out their guns and unload a shitton of lead into me.

Now, if you know anything about JeweledStone dream journal lore, you’d know that one of my abilities as a reality bender is that I’m basically fucking invincible (or at least, I can take a lot more damage than a normal person could, there HAVE been some recent dreams where I have died from being injured and stuff) (bruh I can’t believe my own subconscious fucking nerfed me lmao) so the bullets basically did nothing but slightly annoy me a little. For some reason, they ended up becoming less hostile towards me after that. (Could just be cause I wasn’t actively being aggressive towards/trying to infect them tho tbh)

The dream ended with one of the politicians revealing that they were also invincible and trying to order for a fucking nuke to be dropped on us to prove it.

And yeah, that was it, kinda disappointed it ended on a cliffhanger like that, but whatever.

#jewel’s dream journal #neo shut the fuck up #pizza tower #sugary spire #pizzelle #pizzano #my art #body horror #gun mention #unreality #ask to tag

11 notes · View notes

frickinsleepdeprived · 5 days

Text

Some personal work, might delete later idk

So like I said earlier, I was thinking about posting some completely original content for yall to devour while Ride or Die is being completed.

So enjoy some witch and artificer fuckery under the cut hehehe-

...

Prologue:

“If not for country, then what the fuck are you doing in office?” Questioned the girl sitting across from her father. “What do you even stand for as a politician anyways? You barely do anything for the people, other than keeping the artificers at bay. Which I genuinely can’t blame you for because they’re homicidal pigs already.” She stated, lighting her herbal cigarette and sitting back in the plush velvet chairs that adorned the study. Her father could only smile, knowing that she knew nothing about being a politician but she does her damn hardest anyways. His daughter is a diplomat at best, not a politician. She doesn’t deal with what he does on a near daily basis.

“Well, Lilith, what I’m doing is for the greater good. And it’s not like you’d know anything about being a politician anyway. Your formal title is ambassador to Ellowyn, not savior of the fucking world.” He started, moving his hair out of his face to better see the papers in front of him. “But right now, I won’t get into that. Right now we need to discuss this meeting we’re about to attend.” Lilith choked on the cigarette she was having, the smoke getting caught in her lungs and throat.

“I’m sorry you said what? Why wasn’t I told about this a week ago?!” Lilith exclaimed, putting her cigarette in the ashtray after putting it out. Her father sighed, knowing that he would have to have this conversation with her yet again.

“Lilith you must understand that sometimes in this industry you must be on your toes at all times, like now.” Like lightning, he picks his daughter up by the collar without even touching her, and slams her into a nearby wall. She screamed a murderous screech, the pain in her arm seething like hot iron as she got up stumbling. “Stay on your toes.” He finalized.

“Yeah…” Lilith breathed, dusting herself off and cracking her neck. “And you should know to do the same.” Her father gave her a questioning look, wondering what she could possibly mean. Lilith, swifter than the wind picked up the various books that rattled off the bookshelves with a power that one could only assume is of worlds other than Elysium, and launched them at her father, effectively hitting him. “You fucked with the wrong one. Remember that.” Lilith raged in what seemed to be the calmest way she could muster. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I saw on your papers this is scheduled for an hour from now. I will get myself cleaned up so as to not appear harmed. I will dismiss myself.” Lilith ended the conversation, leaving the room to go to her bedchambers. Maids and butlers were waiting for her outside, worried from the scream she had let out not even five minutes ago.

“Lilith, what happened in there? You look beat up.” A maid asked, following her with a warm rag to wash the blood coming out of the nasty gash Lilith now adorned on her arm. “Oh gods this looks bad…”

“What’s bad is that I have a meeting in less than an hour. I need to get ready. Please, excuse me…” Lilith dismissed the maid as she called for a nurse to follow her to her bedchambers. “Gods the things I’d do to that man if I could…” Lilith muttered, opening her door to her room and allowing the nurse to enter. “How about you Akira, what would you do in my shoes?” The older woman looked at her, premature gray hairs starting to show as she cleaned her wound and applied ointment to make sure it won’t become infected. “I’m sure there’s something you can say to make sure this doesn’t happen again.” Lilith sighed as she sat down on the edge of her bed while Akira was still working on the wound.

“Firstly Lilith, I need you to stop moving. Secondly, I’ve been working for your father for the last twelve years. I’ve known you since you were six. But from what I know just by working with your father, there isn’t a way to get whatever he’s got going on in his head out of it.” Akira sighed, knowing that there was genuinely nothing she could do to help Lilith out of this. She wrapped her arm with medical bandage and put a sleeve over it for further protection. “Get dressed, also, that wound of yours will bleed pretty badly. You’ll want to leave that bandage on for a few weeks. I’ll obviously help you change it when needed.” Akira gave her the go ahead to get ready, to which Lilith sprang up to get dressed, do her make up and hair, and gather herself mentally within forty-five minutes.

“I know there isn’t a way to get what he’s got going on out of him, that’s evident enough. Maybe some counseling would do, he hasn’t been to a therapist since mom died.” Lilith commented, throwing on a long sleeve black dress that was modest enough to meet her father’s dress standards. Akira shook her head and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose knowing that this is going to be no easy feat.

“Lilith, your father is too prideful to even consider going to a regular doctor. He’s a very traditional Elysian.” Akira mentioned, pulling her hair back and covering it with a bandana as a way to veil. Lilith slipped on a pair of nude closed toe heels and a blazer. Stepping into the bathroom she took a brush and water to slick it down into a low bun. “And by the way, I’d suggest a ponytail, looks more casual and less tense. Remember, your father wants you to appear relaxed, never hostile.” Akira adjusted Lilith’s hair. All Lilith could do was sigh as she put on minimal makeup, just enough to cover a few healing scars that have by now scabbed over, and those scabs had fallen off that day.

“I getcha, either way I have fifteen minutes to get downstairs before father yells at me again… or launches me into yet another bookshelf.” Muttering under her breath, Lilith proceeded to grab her documents and make her way out of her room. Her footsteps booming on the cherrywood floors almost as if to knock on wood. “Florana, where’s father?” Lilith asked, rounding the corner as the maid swiftly followed her to answer her question.

“O-oh, you’re right on time actually. He just got downstairs and is waiting for you at the door. You better be quick though, a butler is distracting him to buy time…” With Florana’s statement, Lilith quickened her pace and made her way down a grand gold and moldavite staircase. She approached her father with Akira following behind closely.

“All I’m saying is-” Her father turned and saw Lilith standing there, in all of her wounded glory. Her breath was heavy as she struggled to stand in the heels she adorned and her makeup was almost pristine. She didn’t care though, what she cared about was not getting slammed into another hard surface. “Oh grand, you’re here… and on time for once.” Lilith rolled her eyes and smacked the papers into her father’s chest.

“Save it, let’s get this over with.” She spat, grabbing a coat and making her way to the black SUV that she’s always taken trips in. Her father closely followed Akira, talking about the wound on her arm.

“I can assure you sir that Mister Delcoure and his son won’t be able to suspect a thing. It’s patched up nicely and she’s wearing a dark long sleeve should any blood come through the bandage.” Akira stated, giving her father some false peace of mind if only for the moment. But Lilith knew that she was being two-faced, she’s been like that since she first started working for her father. “Should you need anything, know that you have me on speed dial. I’ll see you both when you return.” Akira sighed, closing Lilith’s door as the eighteen year old crawled into the backseat.

“Very well then, you are dismissed. Chauffeur, we’re ready whenever you are.” Lilith’s father spoke as he got into the backseat next to his daughter. He sighed and brought out his flask to sip on whatever ungodly concoction was in there. “And Lilith…” Lilith turned her head to face her father “If they ask about how things are in Elysium-”

“Tell them that it’s confidential matters. It’s the same drill every meeting, Ellowynians aren’t entitled to that information.” Lilith concluded. It was frustrating to her father that she could read his mind so easily. But in a weird way, it brought him some sort of comfort. “Also, don’t bring up any suitor business. Now’s not the time.” Her father sighed at the comment, she needed to marry. In his eyes, because she missed the timeframe to get married, she should find a husband as soon as she can. But that wasn’t on Lilith’s agenda.

“Lilith, it is tradition the minute you turn eighteen you marry. You signed an oath in high school pledging you’d do so.” Her father spoke, an air of exasperation lacing his voice.

“While I may have signed an oath at an impressionable fifteen years old pledging to some ludicrous decree, I have an amazing team of lawyers and attorneys who have helped me put that contract in void. So no, I don’t have to marry.” She declared, looking over the files once more before the car sped off to the embassy. “Don’t make me regret coming to this meeting, father. It will only make national relations worse.”

...

Not sure how I really feel about it tbh, might delete this later but enjoy this while it lasts lol

#abby rambles #abby's wips #abby's the witch and the artificer

2 notes · View notes

tloubraininfection · 1 year

Text

Ever since we got those mixed messages from Neil and Craig about what the second season is going to be I was thinking about all the changes theyve already made to the story in the show and how they actually make the second game make less sense not more? And how it’s gonna be so much harder to adapt it now. Like:

1.Tommy is about to become a father (or he already is one, not sure how much time has passed). I can`t imagine him abandoning his wife and child do go on a suicide revenge quest. Especially not the way he`s characterized in the series. He was super reluctant to go with Ellie to deliver her the Fireflies and that was a far less dangerous mission and his baby was still not there yet so imagine him in few years’ time.

2.The world of tlou in the series is a far more dangerous place than it was in the game. The infected are so much stronger and they have the hivemind thing and on top of that it has been established that if you run into a bloater you are as good as dead. The same goes for people, they are all ruthless and will try to kill you and they are really good at it. So I just cant imagine Ellie and Dina just waltzing into Seattle and murdering WLF soldiers left and right. The whole thing requires game logic and game suspension of disbelief that is just impossible in the tv show.

3. Again, Ellie alone taking out the whole of Santa Barbara? Is she getting Iron Man suit for that part?

4. In spite of the fact that the creators go on and on about how Ellie likes violence they`ve shown exactly the opposite in the show. The violence she`s experienced is deeply traumatizing to her, she takes no pleasure from killing, she has no secret penchant for torture. How are they going to jump from this to all the f-ed up things Ellie does in tlou2? I mean, sure they can, but like make it make sense.

5. The fact that we got it confirmed in the last episode that Joel had attempted suicide and that Ellie is struggling with suicidal ideation is just all kinds of wrong in the context of the second game. I cant even begin to explain how much it bothers me and why. Luckily I don’t have to, there are people who`ve done it already and far better than I ever could so I`ll just refer you to them:

6. Also just for science, if the world of tlou was every bit as hateful and revenge driven as Neil seems to think how fast would they run out of people, do you think? Like, there`s no way there are still any people alive after 20 years, right? Everyone is someone`s something. The whole thing is just… eh.

All this is my way to convince myself that it cant be that bad, right? Right? I just so want to watch the next season and so not want to relive the trauma of tlou2. But Neil is still holding the steering wheel so all this is useless anyways. But then again, why are they making things harder for themselves? I just want the second season to not be the second game, ok? Just make it anything else, just not that!

#that stupid game is gonna haunt he till I die #i want the museum sequence #and ellie learning that her life hes meaning outside of the immunity #and I want her to do all the super awesome things in Jackson #i want this story to be meaningful #and beautiful #even if its painful sometimes #you know like the first one was #a story about the broken world #and people trying to survive #and still finding beauty in it #still finding love and something to fight for #not a story about how everyone hates everyone else #no thanks #tlou 2 spoilers #the last of us 2 spoilers

19 notes · View notes

thewolfisawake · 8 months

Text

"Absolutely not!" Balmoral slammed his hand down, the wood cracking and splintering under the force, "I would sooner execute the lot of you myself before I grant that request!"

"Go right ahead, the Unseelie will be doomed soon after anyway if we do not tamp this Corruption business as soon as possible," Risteard dared, his eyes measuring the king. It being a 50/50 shot Balmoral took his head. The eye, a storm of blue, green and copper, had a draw towards the dark center. Like a void. However it didn't devour him. It seemed he was safe for now. But he needed to appeal to their ruler's sense.

"You know our people are a skeptic lot. Despite the swirl of magic within our beings and our relations outside this domain, it is still difficult to bring forth the idea of such a ghastly miasma. One that can infect beings where sickness does not touch. And one so agonizing and unimaginably turbulent unlike reversion."

Noticing Balmoral keeping himself restrained but not willing to challenge him like the Vizier, Norval piped up from further behind. He turned towards his voice as a Herald, "But in one fell swoop we can alter that perception and ensure a smoother cooperation. Example is a communication that is understood and spreads quickly between the citadel and the settlements. The Corruption, a dreadful and indiscriminate affliction, arrived in the Unseelie slowly infecting its denizens. And its first major manifestation by a stroke of misfortune was the Royal Protector, the mind sickness causing him to be unable to determine ally or foe, slaughtered unfortunate innocents within the palace."

It was brilliant. Balmoral couldn't argue that. It soundly conveyed nefariousness of the Corruption. That it could get to any being, regardless of station and power. But it also forced a scapegoat. One he could not stomach, "Mhoirbheinn is not sick. He is not Corrupted. Yet this will brand him as such. He will be sent to the quarantine area with anyone else that is Corrupted."

"But at least he'd be alive," Solanine quietly said, "that cannot be said if we do not run with this idea. The massacre is already being talked about. And the way it is being discussed...it will be a call for retribution if there is no intervention soon."

"So you propose this alternative. A declaration tantamount to banishment until Creation discovers a cure. If they are capable of concocting one. Mhoirbheinn will be confined with those tainted. Where desecration is all but guaranteed," His sight swept across each speaker as he repeated, "Amongst this ghastly miasma. Infecting a being where sickness does not touch. To undergo an experience agonizing and unimaginably turbulent. A subject to a dreadful and indiscriminate affliction. You can see why I refuse."

"Your Majesty," Risteard started again, his voice exasperated and venomous, "in any other situation I would be fine with you finding some kind of counter and refusing. But when it comes to Mhoirbheinn, your sentimentality gets the better of you. And this is not the time for you to be clouded by it. As it stands, this is the best case scenario for both you and him. It absolves him of the destruction he wrought despite no one but you apparently knowing the purpose behind a senseless massacre. And you earn the full support of the Unseelie in a precarious matter we have no control over. You refuse, you open yourself to question in your rule. Whether or not you fully have control on your court. You are not deaf and know the opinion that surrounding your protector. He is a danger, Balmoral, that you have left unchecked for far too long and with a situation that needs your utmost attention. You must understand your duty over your kindred."

"And you must understand--" Balmoral said, his voice becoming eerily calm as he stood. The temperature plummeted as ice clambered up the furniture and the forms of his generals. It embedded itself into the skin and continued to crawl. The air dry and harder to take in. Fractals spidered across the windows and threatened to crack them. The wood started to wither and weaken under the weight it could once hold. Frost seeped into the skin and began to drain vitality from all those present. Proof of why the aspect of winter was a fearsome one, "--that you are here by my benevolence. Do not underestimate the breadth of my avarice. And you dare to speak down to me as if I am ignorant of consequences and the toil it would take to overcome them. Know. Your. Place."

Resistance was not an option. His gaze like a black hole, uncaring of those it pulls and snatching the last vestiges of fight. Release only coming when he turned for the door. Gasps for breath were heard although his voice rang clear, "My decision stands. The Corruption is the priority from here on. Do not waste my time again."

#{Balmoral Drabbles #oh my god this took forever #but I swear y'all #Bal does not normally bully his generals like this #this is literally throwing him #some of the worst news #during some of the worst timing #and asking him to go through a shitty time #without the one person #that keeps him sane #he's not having it

7 notes · View notes

moth-yknowtheartist · 1 year

Note

w. wait

you have LORE ????

okay so I want you to read this post as if I took a long, deep breath and then said this all within that one breath because I think that is the appropriate way to experience this

.... SO it starts with me making a silly post about how people could ask me like anything and I'd answer it including the question of how I thought I'd die and my friend thief DID ask me that one and it was very funny and then my OTHER friend asked me "how will you live" and I joked that I'm never gonna die I'm gonna live forever ahha!! and then it was pointed out that that line doesn't end well usually (puppet history reference), I made a molasses flood joke (puppet history reference), and THEN. the CATALYST happens.

PEEPS @freakingpeepseverywhere CANONICALLY DROWNS ME IN MOLASSES AND I CANONICALLY DIE.

this turns into a funny joke (AT FIRST) where (as a puppet history reference with like the substitute and everything) I pretended to be myself but Wrong. then a whole character started to develop with them and turned into a virus-infected imposter robot of me that is dead set on destruction and killing Peeps. Theif @foundthethief and Gale @marine-beats are playing into the bit right and it evolves into Gale being roped into the murder plot under the pretense of "making music", and Thief being on-and-off threatened with murder as well and eventually becoming an opposing force to the imposter moth, referred to as "moth" at this point. this is also where the Divide By Zero thing starts because Thief tells "moth" to divide by zero. they break for a second. They are not pleased.

Peeps herself is plagued with guilt, and branches off with her own lore currently exploring the OMORI-like headspace where everything is perfectly fine and cool and isn't it cute and Nothing Is Wrong and Peeps is just a little busy being Consumed By Guilt.

Two new cryptic figures appear as well: The Scientist and The Traveller. The Scientist (from @watcherwatts) first makes an appearance speaking in binary in "Moth"'s inbox, offering assistance, which "Moth accepts, and the two begin working together on Projects. These correspondences are what first fully tips off Gale to the fact that Yeah This Is A Straight Up Murder Plot, but due to death threats and technical difficulties from "Moth", they're a little bit trapped in the situation Oops lmaooo.

Then there's The Traveller (@andrewryder ) who makes their appearance by asking about Hatsune Miku which seems normal enough but Oops they might be a bit of an interdimensional traveler capable of learning impossible amounts of information from a person just by asking them innocuous questions. they also have a strange connection with weird supernatural books, with one of them having soulbound them to Andrew (also @andrewryder) and makes it so that if one of them is hurt or dies they BOTH experience it. Andrew is like. Normal. Also has TERRIBLE LUCK WITH BOOKS THAT KEEP TRYING TO KILL THEM

anyway The Traveller and "Moth" form an alliance. This is right about when the Chess Metaphors begin I'll get into that in a second

This is about when this Funny Haha Bit spiralled OUT OF CONTROL COMPLETELY. WHAT YOU THOUGHT ALL THAT WAS A LOT? HAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHA FUNNNYYYY FUNNNYYYY HAHAAHHAHA NO. NO THERE IS SO MUCH MORE THAN YOU COULD POSSIBLY IMAGINE THIS IS WHY I HAD TO MAKE A DISCLAIMER AND PIN IT TO MY PROFILE.

Gale has his own lore bit for a while on @aquatic-paint with asks oh fun!!! this is where "Moth" chooses to torment him a bit anonymously (this becomes important later) and Thief attempts to try to figure out a way to stop "Moth". They propose a plan to Gale, making an imp's bond, but Gale is a bit Split emotionally and these plans fall through. "Moth" is pissed when they find out about the potential planning and have a back and forth with Thief. This is about where "Moth" decides they Very Much Want Thief dead.

meanwhile, The Traveller does his funny Traveller thing and Extracts Obscene Amounts Of Information from people, particularly with the question "Do you remember being born?" , starting with Gale. Gale resists and the Traveller introduces the Fate book, which Gale doesn't yet open. Instead, they make a deal to answer the question and therefore reveal everything about themself if the Traveller agrees to not harm them in any way. The Traveller agrees. Gale holds onto Fate.

The Traveller also asks Thief, and they also have a back and forth that gets on the topic of string cheese for some reason and ends in Thief finally answering the question. The Traveller is able to give this information to "Moth", its later cost being simply making things worth the Traveller's time and also A First Edition Charizard Card. Do you know how expensive those things are? "Moth" didn't. "Moth"'s still trying to figure that one out.

now might be a good time to explain the Chess Metaphors before we get too much further okay so. everyone is represented by a Chess piece, with movements and events being representative of the plot. Here are all the pieces and corresponding People:

King: Peeps, Moth

Queen: The Traveller, (later) Gale

Pawn: Gale, (not yet pictured) Andrew

Knight: Thief

Bishop: Anonymous (a figure only appearing anonymously who uses "Moth"'s earlier anonymity to impersonate them. Their speech is described by The Traveller as "French".), (not yet pictured) The Scientist

Rook: Nat (who "Moth" had a delightful conversation about moths with!!)

The reason I bring up the chess metaphor NOW is that Gale "making it so the other side of the board" and "queening" is a notable plot moment because this is when things start to get Weird for him and he starts to become more and more vaguely human, developing the ability to cause things such as interference with electronic devices, Knowing things inexplicably, and invisibility. These abilities are represented with the color Blue and all essentially manifest almost exclusively as extreme survival responses at the moment. Gale is Jon Archivist coded.

anyway Gale has been mostly playing a Waiting Game with items "Moth" conned them into buying for the murder scheme, and around when they arrive, Gale and "Moth" have a conversation which turns into a lot of mixed emotions and grief and fear of abandonment that "Moth" neither understands nor treats very well, culminating in Gale finally quitting and causing interference which prevents "Moth" from being able to reach him them through their asks. The Traveller then contacts Gale again, prompting them to open "Fate", which gives them some advice, warning, and also knows how Everything Ends. The Traveller also gives "Moth" a book titled "Life?", which "Moth" isn't meant to open until everything is over. "Moth" is Very Pissed about the whole Gale situation and losing their pawn essentially by the way and adds Gale to the kill list!!!!

Meanwhile, Andrew has been at NASA, after previously having been in a sort of resort. The resort was great for her!! NASA IS NOT. After having an experience with a book that Nearly Kills Her (and by extension The Traveller), she speaks a bit with Gale and with "Moth", particularly warning "Moth" about The Traveller. This is when we learn the Traveller exploded a planet once because she got bored!!!! "Moth" attempts to appear unbothered by the warnings, but in later interactions with The Traveller seems to have taken some of them to heart, especially the one about keeping The Traveller occupied.

These factors culminate in "Moth" making the decision to go with the Traveller to retrieve their tools they conned Gale into getting for their murder. Oh, and also murdering Gale. Gale is able to avoid the two because of their new Knowing, and also takes the shovel and crowbar of the murder materials with them as well as draining the molasses, leaving "Moth" with like nothing (except a paring knife they found!! :)) "Moth" is not happy with this. The Traveller is meanwhile having a sillyfun time. Everything is fine!! I'm sure nothing will happen or anythi

The two at least find Gale's Fate book, "Moth" attempting to use it for information (not to much gain) and taking it with them. The Traveller, meanwhile, gives coordinates for Gale's later location good job Traveller you're so cool I sure I hope nothing happens to you or anythi

Meanwhile, Andrew encounters a book that causes him to experience a DNS error and he FUCKING DIES (probably). hey isn't he soulbound to the Traveller doesn't something happen if that ha

On the way to the location the Traveller gave, the Traveller glitches out of existence!! It is Painful and he gives like a whole death (probably) monologue about how this isn't the end and expresses how he's finally feeling something other than numbness and anger as he goes. "Moth" is Very Effected by this, having considered The Traveller like a friend at this point. "Moth" also becomes increasingly frustrated with the Fate book, trying to use it as and after the Traveller glitches out of existence to no avail.

Both "Moth" and Gale make it to this location with a tree and a lake, "Moth" having followed The Traveller's coordinates and Gale seeking water per the Fate book's recommendation. Gale also incidentally activated a little bit of invisibility while fleeing for his life so that makes things interesting!!! The two end up talking, with Gale's invisibility ending up keeping "Moth" from just straight up killing Gale and allowing the two to have an actual conversation that results in them forming a truce where "Moth" agrees Not To Kill Gale for the time being and deciding to work together on hopefully getting The Traveller back. On the way back to Gale's house, the two discuss and decide a name for "Moth" ("Acherontia" from the death's head hawkmoth, "Acher" for short) as well as discuss Gale's whole Blue Stuff and Acher attempting to help trigger their abilities and find a pattern to them (which they do!!! Culminating in Gale causing a level of interference that causes Acher's system to be overwhelmed and need to restart!!!).

meanwhile Andrew and The Traveller are enjoying a movie that is basically a reflection of their own lives and ummmmmmm uhhhhhhh the movie theater might be the afterlife a little bit!!! Oops!!!

and so that's about where everything is with the lore currently this is all from memory so I probably missed a lot but like. Stay tuned for when I relearn HTML solely to make a wiki for this to host on Neocities LMAOO

#congratulations on your ask being cursed with the synopsis!!!!!! <<333 #i am having so much fun. hope you guys are all still enjoying this teehee #THE LORE

15 notes · View notes

oatmilk-vampire · 4 months

Text

Tomorrow's Loss: Chapter 1

Book Summary: All Tom wanted to do was study with his friend, but then his crush of four years shows up unannounced and urges them to evacuate for an unknown reason. After they are on the road, they learn they are escaping a dangerous bloodborne pathogen that is turning those infected violent and cannibalistic, all with a disturbing smile on their face. Tom soon finds himself on the way to play a tragic game of house with his best friend, his crush, a married couple and their dog. Tom hopes the CDC is right when they say they willl get it all under control soon. However, as days pass with no sign of respite, they become painfully aware that help will not be on the way after all. When Tom's group begins to lose members to the virus and gains one additional, they are all stuck trying to adapt and survive in this new world. After nearly a year, the group is forced to venture out further for food and other supplies, finding other survivors who only want to harm them more than the Smilers do. But when Tom is saved by one stranger, it opens his world to the possibility of community and actually living instead of just surviving.

A/n: I can only share 10% of my novel, so here's the first 5%.:) Read end note for links and coupons.

I dance to the speakers pumping music in my dorm. Sound waves of instruments I have no interest in ever learning how to play echo and bounce off of the thin walls. I know my neighbors would complain if they ever actually spent any time at home. The opening verse to Modern Baseball’s “Re-Do” rings out as I pull clothes from my closet. I’m getting ready to meet with my best friend Tim so we can hold each other accountable for actually getting work done instead of getting trapped into an endless scroll on Instagram, Facebook or God forbid TikTok. As I make the ultimate decision between two shirts, I hear something that doesn’t quite sound like it’s part of the song.

I hesitate, waiting to see if Tim will unlock the door and come in but when he doesn’t I resume the task of throwing on my red heather. As I pop my head through the neckhole, I hear someone calling my name. Weird. It kind of sounds like… I freeze my movements.

Could it really be him? It’s been since my birthday in March that he last visited. Any doubt in my mind is quickly extinguished when, by some miracle, I clearly hear the pounding on my door over Brendan Lukens’ voice.

I jump and yank my pants up over my hips before scrambling to the source of the noise. I give myself a once-over in the mirror before unlocking the door and swinging it open.

There Mark stands, a fist still raised ready to assault my poor door again. He lowers it and barks out something I never expected to hear from his mouth.

“Grab your shit let’s go.”

“Mark!” I almost fall backwards, definitely not expecting to actually see him. But there he is, the biggest crush I’ve ever had – standing right before me. “What are you doing here?”

“Grab. Your. Shit. Let’s go!” Taking charge, he pushes past me and begins pulling out all of my dresser drawers, shoveling socks, shirts and pairs of underwear into the backpack that he just carelessly dumped my very important schoolwork out of.

“Hey!” I shout, surprise quickly getting replaced by frustration. “Mark, what the hell? Stop! My papers are getting all over the place. I did a lot of research on those!” I drop to my knees to try to gather them into their respective stacks before they get too disorganized.

“You always do research!” He retorts as if it justifies his actions. He moves to the closet and starts pulling out my jeans. I notice he’s pointedly ignoring the dressier clothes, instead opting for my more practical wear such as jackets and sweaters instead. He turns to me once he seems satisfied with his haul.

“Where’s Tim?”

I’m taken aback. Why would he be asking about him? What’s he doing here destroying our room anyway?

“At the library. I was just about to meet him there. Why? Mark, what’s going on? You’re acting like someone accidentally killed John Wick’s dog.” I try a smile and a reference to the first movie we watched together to snap him out of whatever has a hold on him. I know we have plans to see number four when it finally hits theaters, but to my great disappointment he completely ignores my efforts.

“Jake and Tash are meetin’ us at the cabin. I’ll explain later. Is there anythin’ else you need?” He pauses. “Your prescriptions!”

He turns to rummage through my bedside table where he knows I keep my pills, but he also happens to find some other things that I really wish he hadn’t.

Mark slows his movements just long enough to toss the condoms and lube into the bag too. “Gotta still be safe, I guess. Safety first. That’s a priority.”

I can feel my face turning beet red and I’m ready to just close in on myself.

Then Mark is right back in front of me snapping his fingers in my face.

“Hey, look. I know you weren’t expectin’ to see me, and I know it definitely wasn’t the reunion you wanted. Hell, it’s not the reunion I wanted either, but we really need to go. We need to find Tim and you need to decide if there is anythin’ else you want or need.”

But I just can’t comprehend what’s going on here, and how could I? Mark is giving me virtually zero information to go on.

“How long are we going to be gone? Can I turn in my papers first? I’m kind of at my deadline. I might need to ask for a leave of absence if it’s going to be long.”

“They’ll understand about the papers, and if not, I’ll make them understand. I don’t know how long.”

“Is someone in trouble? Are we going on the lam?” I look around the room in all its small and crowded glory. My eyes fall to my plush canid collection beside my bed.

“Can I take them?”

Mark follows where I’m pointing and sees the many plushies that he’s personally gifted me over the years.

“Yeah, yeah. If it’ll make you feel better and get your ass movin’, grab ‘em.”

After I safely pack them away with the rest of my deemed essentials, Mark takes hold of the bags and moves them closer to the door.

“Call Tim. Tell him to meet us somewhere close. We need to go. I’ll get his shit for him too.”

In a matter of minutes the two of us are sitting safely in Mark’s backseat but I still don’t feel ready to let out the breath it feels like I’ve been holding. Not until we get to where we’re going and I learn what we’re running from.

“You two lovebirds start callin’ your friends and loved ones and tell ‘em to get to safety.” Mark looks in his rearview mirror at us. “We don’t have any room for ‘em to ride with us, but we can at least give a heads up since the government is failin’ us yet again.”

“Lorelei is in Florida. Will she be okay?” Tim questions, and I wonder if he feels guilty over not insisting on spending their mini-break together. In his defense, she did say she would be happier just going alone. Girl time, she called it.

“Uhh… Yeah, yeah. That’s far enough. Still get in touch to be sure. Let her know not to come back for now.” He instructs, but I don’t know if I really believe him. His eyes are all shifty and I don’t miss the way Mark’s hands clench around the wheel. It’s way worse than what he’s letting on. Mark doesn’t get this freaked out over just anything.

“Okay… Can we please know what’s going on now?” I finally speak up, daring Mark to dodge any more of my questions.

He spares me another glance in the rearview mirror.

“There’s a virus.”

A groan. “Oh, great! Just what we needed. How serious is it? Like covid?” Tim complains as he rubs his forehead.

“I still wear masks, it’s not all that bad. I’ll also get the vaccine when it’s out. Whatever it takes to keep the world going.” I easily concede, not at all ready to go through another pandemic, especially when this one isn’t really over.

“It’s not like covid.” Mark shakes his head. “It’s not in the lungs.”

“Then how is it transmitted?” I look at Tim just in time to see him narrow his eyes, definitely not liking the sound of this. Neither do I.

“Blood. They’re sayin’ it’s a bloodborne pathogen.”

“So what, like hepatitis or HIV? A glorified STD?” I inquire, holding my African wild dog plush close for comfort. “As long as we don’t come in contact with bodily fluids we’re fine right? Why do we need to leave?”

I know I’ll be fine, at least. Although, I’m not too sure about the other two men in the SUV. The perks of being sexually inactive, I guess.

“It’s not that simple.” Mark sighs, and I notice his hands tighten on the steering wheel once more; he must have loosened them at some point.

Maybe we should discuss this later, I don’t want us to get in a wreck and end up needing a blood transfusion on top of everything else…

Wait…

“Can we try blood transfusions? Could that make a difference? Would it purify it?” I glance at the pre-med student beside me for his input.

“Possibly. But at this time it’s still new and unlikely and would take studying and human trials and–”

“Alright, enough!” Mark startles the both of us with his booming voice, commanding us into silence. “It has somethin’ to do with blood under the nails. Think about that. Quietly please.”

“Subungual hematomas?” Tim exchanges looks with me, likely making sure he heard correctly.

“Quietly please.” Mark reiterates.

For the next half hour, the drive is mostly in silence, save for the occasional cough or sneeze and “bless you” that follows.

I take the liberty of counting out just how many pills I have when –oh no– I should have picked up my prescriptions yesterday. I only have about a five-day supply here, give or take – and that’s only because I haven’t taken today’s doses yet since I usually like to just choke them all down at once before going to sleep. This is bad.

It shouldn’t be too long, right? I should be able to make it on a solid four-day ration… Right?

Don’t be stupid, Tom.

I glance at Tim, my roommate and friend of three years. I’ve never had a friendship last that long, other than Mark if you consider him a friend. Then that relationship would be four years.

Next I hazard a glance back at the driver, seeing him in deep concentration. How would Mark know about this? I haven’t even heard about it on the news. Then again, I don’t really watch a lot of news anyway. It’s not good for my mental health. But being in college, kids talk. A lot. No one has mentioned this.

I feel my anxiety budding, and I squeeze my plush even tighter even though it makes me feel childish. I wonder if I should just pop the anxiety pill right now.

When I look out of my window nothing seems out of order or unusual. Everyone seems completely fine. Happy even. No one even looks irritated, they’re all smiling. I offer my own smile to the world.

Maybe it isn’t all that bad.

I even catch sight of an officer pushing a shopping cart, a baby strapped into a carrier on his chest. A smile plastered on his face too. It strikes me as a bit odd, wouldn’t a cop usually change out of uniform before running personal errands? Keep work life and home life separate, and all that.

I can’t imagine what he could have been exposed to on the job, and what he was now exposing his child to.

I shouldn’t think too hard about it.

Once we get about forty-five minutes away from our college, Mark pulls off into a gas station. He gets out, leaving his window down and begins pumping. I catch him looking back and forth towards the store.

“Mark? What’s wrong?”

“Kinda wanna stock up on some smokes. Just in case it’s a good time to pick up a bad habit.” He admits with a careless shrug, but I can tell it’s just a front.

“Want me to go get them?” I offer with a hand already on the door handle.

“No.” A firm shake of his head. “Safer out here.”

“Want me to pump and you go get them?”

No answer.

I waste no time exiting and walking around the trunk to take the pump from his hand, “I got this. Go ahead.”

“Can you and Tim fill up the cans in the back after you’re done with the car?”

“Sure.” I easily agree, ready to get back on the road to supposed safety as soon as possible.

“Hey, Tim! Get your ass out the car, if I’m leavin’ one of you out here defenseless you’re both gonna be out here. Protect each other. I’ll be right back.” Mark stalks off when he sees him nod and unbuckle his seatbelt.

“Well, this has been weird.” Tim gets himself situated standing beside me, prompting me to take the perfect opportunity to start my rambling.

“We still don’t know what this virus is doing, if it kills people, if they’re working on a cure, just how sick we’ll get, how many of us are infected, what we’re going to do in the meantime, why cigarettes and condoms are so important–”

“Hey, hey, hey. Calm down. It’s okay. I know this is stressful but everything is going to be fine. We trust Mark and Jake, right? The thing I’m most concerned about is the condoms you mentioned.” He smirks, knowing it would throw me off.

“And lube.” I would have covered my face in embarrassment if my hands weren’t currently occupied and covered in only God knows how many germs. What if I have any open wounds on my hands? Maybe we should have grabbed disposable gloves too. I study the box of disposable gloves next to the pump that nearly no one uses.

“Oh, God, why? Did Mark say who it’s for?”

“Well, not really. He was in my drawer getting my meds and…”

“Oh, no! Your condoms and lube? That’s so embarrassing!” He emphasizes certain words to get a rise out of me. He knows he succeeded when my face burns a deeper shade of red than it previously was.

“Stop! Shut up! God, I hate you.” I look down in an attempt to hide my smile, but quickly look back towards the store. What is taking so long?

Just then a stumbling woman approaches us.

“Hi, any chance you can spare a hand sanitizer?”

We exchange wary looks.

I don’t think hand sanitizer will benefit us too much, and she seems really polite with a big toothy grin.

“Sure, I don’t see why not.” I easily agree but stop short when I notice the gas cans still surrounding me. “Uhh…”

“Don’t worry, Tommy. I got it.” Tim offers, leaving me to the task at hand.

I smile at him, “Thanks.”

Tim leaves me alone with the strange woman, but thankfully he’s only gone for a moment. He quickly pulls himself back out of the car with his own personal travel bottle just in enough time to see how engrossed she is with staring me down.

“Here you go, ma’am.” He reaches out to her, but she snatches his hand in a death grip, digging her pinkie nail into him with alarming pressure before taking the hand sanitizer and walking away without another word.

It all happens so fast neither one of us can react, but the shock must still be evident on our faces when Mark makes it back to the car.

He looks at the machine and hums at the price, not seeming at all bothered that the cost is in triple digits. I know he doesn’t have money like that. None of us do.

He eyes the both of us, taking note of whatever our expressions show. Does he notice Tim cradling his wrist?

“Y’all okay? Look like you’ve seen a ghost or somethin’.”

“Or something.” Tim frowns, highly unusual for his usually chipper self. “Can we just get back on the road now?”

“Yeah, y’all hungry? I got a ton of snacks while I was waitin’ in line.”

“No thanks.” We answer simultaneously.

“Alright, more for later then. I am gonna say choose what you want, though. First pick.”

“Fine.” Tim opens the door, getting back into the car.

“Jeez, what’s his problem? Trouble in paradise?”

I just look at him.

After we’re all seated and buckled up, Mark tries again.

“Is it something I said?” He puts the vehicle in reverse and pulls out.

“More like what you didn’t say. What exactly is going on here? You can’t just say there’s a BBP causing subungual hematomas and leave it at that. That makes no sense.” Tim forces through clenched teeth.

I observe my best friend press his wrist down against his leg.

A deep breath.

“Okay, look. It is bloodborne. So you can get it pretty much anyway you can get any other virus like that, I’m assumin’. But for some reason the easiest way to catch it is through the nails.”

“Somethin’ happens, a blood clot forms under the fingernails which wouldn’t be such a big deal except for some reason the infected nails are really brittle, so a simple scratch can be way more devastatin’ than usual and pass the infection faster than a class of kindergartners in flu season.”

Tim furrows his brows. “So, like an iron deficiency?”

“What do you mean?” Mark asks cluelessly.

“Iron deficiencies make your nails dry and brittle. Break easy. If it’s being transmitted through the blood, maybe that has something to do with it.”

Mark seems to think carefully for a moment. “If it’s really severe could it cause extreme cravin’s?” He actually takes his eyes off of the road for this one

“Well, it can. I’ve read before that whatever your body is craving is a sign of what your body is missing. But, iron deficiency or anemia causes pica. Pica makes you have weird cravings like ice, clay, dirt, paper, chalk, etcetera.” Tim clarifies. “Stuff that isn’t really food or good for you.”

“How the hell do two kids know this and not the WHO?” He pitches his voice low in an attempt to say it under his breath, but we hear him anyway.

“Excuse me? The WHO? It’s worldwide? Just what are we dealing with exactly?” Tim narrows his eyes once more, fully suspicious that Mark was indeed hiding the worst of it; I know because I feel the same way.

Uncomfortable with the sudden tension, I look out of my window to spot more people than I’m used to seeing out and about, all smiling. Except, there’s something about these smiles that don’t sit right with me anymore.

“Look, I told y’all everythin’ I know. Tell that girl Lori she–” He gets cut off.

“It’s Lorelei.” Tim corrects with anger in his voice.

“Tell Lorelei she needs to stay where she is and take shelter. Stay safe.”

“Why? What is so bad about this? Are we going to die?” Tim demands, his raised voice making me flinch.

“I dunno! Fuck! It’s bad, alright? The ones infected are turning on the uninfected. Turning on their Goddamn loved ones for chrissake! All with that stupid fuckin’ smile on their faces.”

He gulps a breath before continuing his explanation.

“You can’t trust any of them. They won’t remember you. It takes over. They have bad blood runnin’ through those brains now. They’re violent. They get vicious cravin’s.”

“What cravings?” I speak up for the first time since this conversation began.

A beat of silence as Mark considers his next words. My heart feels like it’s slamming into my ribcage, its rapid beating the only noise I can hear.

“You’ve told us this much.” I invoke. “Might as well keep on.”

Mark meets my eyes in the mirror.

“Meat, blood, life. I dunno what it is they’re after. As long as it’s human.”

It’s at this point that my entire world stops.

Then it rapidly slams back into movement.

Tim is freaking out. Lorelei isn’t picking up the phone, so he’s desperately trying to explain it all to her in texts. I just sit here, glued to my seat. Hands frozen. I can’t call anyone even if I had others to call.

“How long?” Tim’s strained voice snaps my attention to him.

“How long what?” Mark’s vision remains locked on the road.

We’re an hour and a half away from college now; from the life I don’t know if I’ll ever have again.

Tim carries on, “How long until you become one of them after being exposed?”

“I dunno. Like an hour or two? Depends on your size I guess. Why?”

“Does anyone know of a cure yet?”

“No, half the world doesn’t even know it’s goin’ on, and the other half doesn’t know what’s goin’ on.”

Tim is directly behind Mark, so he misses when Tim reveals his wound to me. What should have been a tiny scratch was now a gaping hole, spreading and branching out over his entire wrist. His blood is flowing at an alarming rate. I see bits of what I can only assume is remnants of the woman’s nail stuck inside of my friend’s skin.

He meets my eyes.

I feel like I’m going to be sick.

We both know it. This is goodbye – something Tim never liked to say even on spring breaks and holidays away. Goodbye implies there wouldn’t be another hello. It was the end.

I force myself to swallow the lump in my throat, fighting past the feeling that I can’t breathe. I imagine Tim feels much worse.

“Mark?” My voice wavers, the distraught immediately catching his attention.

“What’s wrong, Tomorrow?”

I wince at the nickname, one I always secretly loved just feels all sorts of wrong now. It isn’t fair.

“Did you bring oven mitts or something?

“Oven mitts– What?”

“Or something to cover hands with? Please?”

The desperation in my voice makes looking back completely unnecessary for Mark. He already knows the answer.

When he sees the dark crimson mess spilling onto Tim’s clothes and the blank look on his face, he snaps into action. He pulls off of the road and presses on the hazards. He wastes no time jumping out of his seat and yanking the door open to get my infected friend out.

Tim follows him out without a single complaint, just uses his good hand to toss his phone to me, who decides also exiting the vehicle is definitely a good idea and not at all a bad one.

I will never forget how Tim’s eyes appear distorted and out of focus, until a single tear slips down his face as he fades away.

Now he isn’t Tim anymore. Any trace of his consciousness long gone.

He is one of them.

He smiles.

~~~

Interested in getting the full book? Check your library or check out my (incomplete) universal book link for some of your options.

I have a 50% off coupon on Smashwords exclusively for my TumblrFam. The code is VN67N

Still not sure? Stay tuned for chapter 2.

Thanks for reading!

2 notes · View notes

rottenbrainstuff · 7 months

Text

BG3 playthrough: still stuck in the Tiefling camp, and an amazing roleplay experience

(Spoilers)

First some quick notes, but then I want to talk about how this game is really making me get into *actual* roleplaying in a way I’ve never had a game do to me before. (I’m not sure why my phone keeps capitalizing Tiefling and I’m too lazy to correct it)

First of all: I am never going to leave this Tiefling camp, there’s too much to do and too many people to talk to. The Absolute is going to overrun Faerûn and I am going to still be sitting here having gruel with Otka and playing my violin for the kids.

What am I going to do if I run across another area that makes me this emotionally invested?? It is going to take me years to finish this game at this rate!!! (Well, this week I’ve had a bit less time to play though, which has also really slowed the progress down)

Hey a quick note: there was a little glitch for me with the Auntie Ethel conversation. I introduced myself to her as my tav, and got Astarion’s approval when I told her about our tadpoles, because he thinks it’s delightful how demented she seems. Then I talked to her again using a different character, got the same conversation, and got a SECOND Astarion approval. (Didn’t work again with subsequent tries) Someone told me you can do something similar when you pet scratch. Nice little bonus.

Ok anyways the main thing I wanted to talk about was the crazy fact that I am actually roleplaying in this game, getting emotionally involved, and legitimately able to make what feels like natural and realistic decisions based on what my character would actually do, rather than… you know… interacting with the game feeling very much like a player. Oh ok, here’s the conversation, here’s the normal dialogue option, here’s the smart dialogue option if my talk stats are good, and here’s the evil option, which is always bad to choose because it messes up your game. And I know, because I am a player playing a game, I should pick the normal option. This is how games always go.

Me and my friend were talking about our extremely different reactions we had to the Druids in the Emerald grove, and why.

So the Druids have been letting the Tiefling refugees stay there, but the welcome is wearing thin. Supplies are running low and goblins keep trying to attack. Now with the old leader of the Druids missing, the next highest in command wants to finally kick these Tieflings out. The current leader is creepy and militant, but mostly the other Druids range from “following orders” to “ok-ish”.

You have been told Nettie the healer might be able to help remove your tadpoles. She’s being a little evasive at first, but it’s because mindflayer infection is serious business and she wants to protect her people. After she realizes you are not going to be a threat, she confesses that unfortunately she actually doesn’t have a way to heal you. Their absent leader might though. She gives you a vial of poison and says she needs you to swear to take the poison if you start to change into a mindflayer, because if you transform in the middle of this grove you are going to kill everyone. You must swear: if you don’t directly swear it to her, she will become hostile and start a fight.

My friend who is playing is terrified of transforming into a mindflayer, and he likes Nettie, so he took the poison and promised sincerely.

In a normal game this would be the “good” route and the one I would normally take, because I am a computer game player playing a computer game and the goal of the computer game is to make the good numbers go up. Right?

My experience of the grove though has been very different from my friend’s. I am playing as a dark urge seldarine drow who is trying to be a nice guy. The Druids have been rude and racist to my character, which I’m sure he’s used to, but the contrast between that and how the Tieflings are friendly and welcoming to me is very noticeable. I had a conversation with the pickpocket kids about how people say lies and racist stuff about Tieflings too, just like they do with the drow. My character has been spending so much time getting to know the Tieflings in the grove, mediating arguments, playing with all the naughty Tiefling children, doing sleight of hand tricks for them, watching them pet Wyll’s cat familiar. (I need to be really clear, I’m not simply imaging that these activities are happening, this is flavour that is actually programmed into the game, ie the kids do literally follow around my cat and make comments about it)

So I get farther into the grove and find some frantic Tiefling parents being held back by Druid guards. Their daughter has been taken away because she stole something, (which she only stole because she thought it would prevent the Tieflings from getting kicked out of the grove, and anyway, it’s since been returned.) and they won’t let them see her. The Druid guards are, as always, being rude and racist to me, and my tav is getting angry at the way the Druids are treating his new friends.

So he goes to talk to the Druid leader, and is absolutely shocked to find she is threatening a Tiefling child with a venomous snake. Yes the kid stole something but I have to say again: she stole it because they are going to die on the road if they get kicked out, and the damned item was returned anyways. The leader is a real nasty piece of work, and when she saw me she even said that she feels this must be a good omen, having a blessed child of lolth visit their grove!!! First of all, yikes lady, but also: Lolth-sworn drow are different from seldarine, my kind rebels against the more brutal and merciless lolth-sworn, this was NOT a good comment to make to my character. By this point in time, my tav is absolutely fucking done with these fucking Druids. Yes, objectively speaking, most of the Druids are not terrible and I can see their point, but I felt like my tav in this specific situation would be feeling quite angry and hostile at this point.

So then we get to Nettie. The very first words out of her mouth to me are that the last time she saw a drow, it tried to cut open her belly, and did I have any plans of doing the same? She brings us into the back and there is a goddamned dead drow laid out on her table. I guess it attacked them and they’re studying it because it also had a tadpole infection but goddamn.

She is being evasive and asking a ton of questions. She confesses that if she decided she didn’t like us, she was going to poison us with this little thorn branch she was holding. Then she holds out the poison and demands that I swear to take it.

As a player, I know the best option is to swear, just to get her to shut up. It makes the good numbers go up, and that’s what it’s all about, right?

But my tav in that moment - I felt like he would have absolutely lost his goddamned temper. I’m doing a dark urge run and he’s trying his hardest to not hurt people horribly, but this has pushed him over the edge of his patience. The Druids have been shit to him, shit to the people he’s come to like so much, they’re dissecting another goddamned drow over in the corner, and this woman is sticking poison in his face and telling him to swear to her that he’ll kill himself. He told her fine he’ll take it, but she says that’s not enough, you need to SWEAR to me. You know what? No, he’s not! He refused, she started a fight and attacked us first, and I switched to non-lethal damage and I knocked her out.

This wasn’t just me making a fun decision on my own, like, oh: I have decided on my own, because there’s no game dialogue for this, that my stardew valley farmer is lonesome and feels like an outsider which is why she gets along with Elliott. This is like. Actual things happening within the game that are provoking a legitimate emotional response from me, and I am able to respond to it in a realistic way. When Kagha called me a blessed child of lolth, I had dialogue options to be offended by it.

I am, once again, just absolutely blown away. My friend and me were talking about how we’re both playing “good” characters but how our game experiences still have been so different that we had completely different reactions.

I think that’s absolutely amazing. I can’t remember any game I have ever played ever where I was able to actually get into the roleplaying aspect as much as this, and feel like I was making choices totally based on what my character would do, because this situation was utterly unique to the experience of my friend who is playing the exact same game.

I’ve only really scratched the surface of act 1 here. What the heck else is going to happen by the end?

#bg3 #bg3 playthrough #baldur’s gate 3 #spoilers

3 notes · View notes

lazytyphooncollector · 1 year

Text

Just Lay Here Chapter 5

The head krang just sneered then smirked at her.

"Strange I'm certain I've never met you before but my memories tell me otherwise. You're not just any ordinary human are you? Intriguing indeed. You seem akin to a God of some sort in human corporeal flesh and blood. Why is it that you wanna protect and save all the puny pathetic creatures of this planet anyway? Surely with your powers you could rule over them instead no? That's what we would've done," the head krang said darkly and evilly chuckling but Truly stayed calm and composed.

"You monsters wouldn't understand why. You guys are incapable of having emotions after all. You guys have no idea. I do this because I love everyone and everything. I have people and things that I wanna protect and save. You guys would never know what's that like because you're all evil and dark and cold hearted to the core but then again I bet you scumbags don't even have hearts! Even though this will mean my end I will gladly and happily sacrifice myself over and over again of it means so all my loved ones can have a future and a better tomorrow!"

The head krang just sneered growled then smirked at her.

"It's futile and useless and hopeless. A pathetic endeavor on your part my dear. I have a proposition for you. Join us and live or die trying to save them!"

Truly just glared at them then grinned.

"Never! Now time for chatting is over!" Truly snarled as she got out her weapon and started to activate it. With her mastery over a hundred different forms of martial arts she quickly killed all the foot clan that had been infected and made to be nothing more than the krangs mindless slaves. The female krang and the mute krang jumped at her trying to get her from both sides left and right but she quickly backflipped and they ended up crashing into each other. Now that it was 100% ready she channeled and poured the other remaining half of her power into her weapon as it started to change shape and form becoming much bigger that tendrils of red and purple light came out of it and shot at all 3 krang completely incasing them in cocoons as they were all fused and sent back into the key back into their dimensional prison and then with a terrified scream coming from all 3 of them then it all went to black and nothingness as they were completely erased from existence and the key that was their prison turned to ashes as well as Trulys weapon. With one final look at the beautiful sunset she then collapsed onto the ground and died right there with a smile on her face. About 10 minutes later a portal popped up near there as 4 terrapins and one Casey Jones appeared and came out of it. They ran over to Trulys lifeless body as they just thought that she injured and just passed out but after Donnie checked her and told them that there was no signs of a heartbeat or a pulse in despair they all sank to their knees and Raph had her cracked in his arms as tears just streamed down from their masked eyes and trailed down their faces.

"You! You know all this would happen didn't you Casey?! You knew and you didn't bother to tell any of us!" Raph said as he turned his head to glare up at him.

"She made me swear I didn't tell you guys at all Master Raph," Casey said looking guilty and sad as he looked away from him. Leo angry beyond belief tackled him to the ground and started beating him up.

"There's always another way! Surely with our mystical powers all of us could've done something to help! She didn't and never had to take on this whole burden by herself dammit! We literally just got her back and we already lost her again! Why?!" Leo said cursing and shouting as more angry hot fresh tears fell down his cheeks.

"Leo please stop it! Clearly there was no other way and clearly not even us combined would've been enough! Beating Casey up is not gonna make things better nor bring Truly back!" Mikey said sobbing.

Donnie was deadly quiet though as if he was lost in deep thought. Then taking out of his battle shell what looked like ancient writing in Japanese on papyrus he opened it up for all of them to see once he came over to all of them.

"I decided last night while all of you guys were asleep in the lair and I did some searching and investigating like how I always do. I found the location where Casey said him and Truly first appeared from the portal they in from from the future and I found this ancient parchment only a few feet away laying on top of a trash can. It seems to be an ancient mystical spell that can bring someone back to life from the dead but there is a catch and a price to be paid in return. If we do this spell yes we can definitely bring her back to life but in the process every ounce of our mystical powers will be gone for good."

Mikey Raph Leo and Casey heard and listened intently as they all stood up as they each put a hand on Donnies shoulders.

"It's not a matter of if because we don't even have to think about this. It's automatic of course because we'd do literally anything to bring her back to us," Raph said to all of them. They all nodded their heads yes and with renewed determination they grew serious now as they got ready on starting the ritual to bring their beloved back to them from the dead.

@nikitaboeve @raph-red-fan @raphsgrl @0x0spunky-monkey0x0 @primroseprime2019 @tkappi @doctorelleth @severelychiefprincess @lady-maria-the-wolf225 @samyp05 @tulipvalley27 @lasttriptonyc @mistyroselove @camibanani @jaenisamusculargurl @darkhoodedvendetta-blog @immadollfacelove @kkloco @redhoods-daughter-from-hell @hotredphoenix @swagtreecrown @pissybird @knobsshamanics @the-ninja-with-the-sais @tamitaninja2007 @sweetshepherdslimeartisan @lovelylulu1 @rin-oroku @dasdummenutellabrot

#tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #oc x canon #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt leo x oc #rottmnt #smut

7 notes · View notes

moodybluemood · 2 years

Text

Hello and welcome!

In all honesty, I don’t know how much I’ll post on this account but I wanted a place to post random writing thoughts and maybe snippets of things I don’t want to post on AO3. I’ve had previous blogs in the past but I wanted a fresh start, all shiny and new, and I wanted a writing space that wasn’t so unmeshed with personal posts. This is all in the pursuit of keeping a happy headspace.

Anyway, if you’re here from AO3 and you probably are because I haven’t linked this anywhere else, let me answer a few things.

Are you still writing your fics?

The answer is yes, largely. Have I updated any of them in the past year? No. I’ll get to that in a bit. But am I working on them? Death Is Not The End has several chapters I’m currently writing at once and There Is A Town is actively being continued. I don’t have any intentions on stopping, even if I sometimes crawl to a halt. As for other JJBA fics, I am very slowly finishing most of them. The only one I’ve discarded for certain is a post-breakup Promaggio fic because I wound up taking them in a vastly different direction and I actually yanked a lot of my prior Prosciutto characterization for Bruno. La Squadra Special Mission is on hiatus for the foreseeable future but I won’t say it’s abandoned just yet. I no longer have Word and it’s a pain writing it on other platforms. More importantly, I honestly have not been in the brainspace to write something like that for a long time and I don’t know when, if ever, I’ll get that back. It might be a relic of an older sense of humor, I don’t know. I haven’t read it in a long time and I don’t know if it’d reflect something I’d write today.

Do you plan on interacting with the fandom much?

I don’t know. We’ll see. I got into Jojo’s Bizarre Adventures as a distraction from something terrible in my life, I started writing JJBA fic in a bizarre attempt to cope with something that might be obvious if you’ve ever read 90% of my work, and I latched too hard emotionally on aspects of the fandom despite interacting very little with it. It wasn’t the healthiest. It got to the point that I was angry and stressed all the time and it got to the point where it triggered mild paranoia. There were other reasons too. It killed most of my motivation to write. I had to take a step back and reevaluate how I interact or don’t interact with the Internet. I am making active attempts to form social connections but I am also making active attempts to not poke around too much with fandom as a general concept. Fandom in general is a refuge for people who might be experiencing hard times in their life but it’s also something that can easily become unhealthy.

Why did your fic updates slow down so much?

I started writing fic in late 2018 and then I started posting the bulk of my fic in earnest in 2019. Most of my work revolves around death and grieving. Both are ultimately tied up in the reasons why I write; to a certain extent, I have really only written when I’ve been grieving something, even if it wasn’t a death.

So then, 2020. You know the drill. Some people I spoke to suddenly vanished and I don’t have closure there. I suddenly worked strange hours all by myself and then I was thrust back into working in an office full-time way before I should’ve been back. Coworkers I could previously tolerate became radicalized and I listened to a nonstop brigade of general dumbassery about the virus and blatant homophobia & transphobia. When you’re stressed and upset all the time, the very act of writing frustrates you.

2021. My mom got sick. She’s better now, though she just got over her second bout of covid and she might not ever be where she was at before, but it’s the sort of thing that really punches you in the gut. A month or so later, I went to a doctor’s appointment for an ear infection and came out with the idea that I might have a thyroid issue. This somehow turned into an entire year of what seemed like nonstop medical appointments. Last year, I had:

A thyroid ultrasound

A heart ultrasound

An ultrasound of my carotid artery

A leg ultrasound for reasons I don’t even know, honestly

A CT scan

A visit to an endocrinologist who dismissed me in three minutes while barely looking at my records

Two breast ultrasounds

Two mammograms

God knows how many vials of blood drawn

Some other embarrassing things

And some stuff I’m probably forgetting

I spent a good chunk of the past year thinking I probably had cancer. The end diagnosis? A tumor that probably isn’t cancer, a heart that pumps blood a little weird, and as for anyone else, all my other weird findings were literally never following up on. It was a lot of money spent and a lot of stress.

I think you can see why I didn’t want to write about death.

The good thing is that I finally started medication for some things that have been ruining my life. I take an anti-anxiety medicine that helps with my ADHD and anxiety. I can talk to people now. I don’t constantly think about all the embarrassing things in my life anymore. I’ve finally been able to take initiative to leave bad situations and move towards things I want in life. I still have a lot of issues and maladaptive behavior I’m trying to unlearn, but I’m doing okay now. Life is a lot better. I moved in with my SO, I’m a dog step-parent, and I’m happier than I ever been.

I think I feel okay to write fic now. I’m not writing it for the same reasons. I’m writing it for the fun of it now.

What’s the deal with Blixa Bagna?

Okay, now that we got that out of the way, let me tell you what the people really want to know. He was never supposed to be in any of my fics except for a few mentions here or there. However, someone was a dick to me once about putting an OC in my fic, so I decided that any time someone complained about Blixa or I saw a post complaining about OCs, I would simply put him in the fic more. Blixa’s not my self-insert actually because if he was my self-insert, he’d be with Tomoko instead of Risotto. He’s just a goth joke that got wildly out of hand and now he’s a blorbo from my head whose characterization changes a ton over the course of writing.

Anything else to share?

One of these days, I’m going to make an alternate account. It will have no ties to my main writing account. I will post the most batshit fic ever and leave. You’ll never know.

Anyway, there you go. Might wind up posting on this a lot, might only post a little. We’ll see.

11 notes · View notes

sleepyowlwrites · 2 years

Text

been a bit, so let's check in, where do we start again?

first lines tag! from @thewritingpart wherein you post the first lines of whatever wips you've got. no I could not be bothered to c/v the rules.

I'm going in order of "not worked on in a while" to "yeah I guess I'm working on this now maybe sorta kinda"

and I'll be including the first lines plural because I feel like it.

Space Story (It's a Big Universe)

For as long as he can remember, Myr has been drifting around the universe in their little spaceship, all alone.

The universe is a big place. There is a lot to see.

Rain Story (The Search for Petrichor)

Prince Jaino had always been told that nothing was his fault. If the curtains of his bedroom suddenly caught on fire, it wasn't his fault. If he shook hands with a visiting dignitary and the man's hand got burned, it wasn't his fault. If he ran a fever so high he burned through his sheets and endangered the healers, it wasn't his fault.

Anxiety Story (Every Other Star is Silent)

Aiden's first memory consisted of singing and warmth. He could recall his dad's arms holding him close to his chest, the vibrations of his voice thrumming against his own. A unique sound followed the singing, one that Aiden couldn't place anywhere else: his mother's laughter, carefree and happy. If Aiden had any experience with love and comfort, he knew it came from those very young days.

Ghost Story (Violet and Her Ghosts)

They weren’t dead yet, but Violet called them her ghosts anyway. What else do you call half-corporeal visions that don’t know how to either disappear or become real? The newer ghosts were always very adamant about still being alive; the older ones were resigned to perhaps never dying. Violet tried to console them as best she could, but if there was no one left to keep the bargain, she was helpless.

Other Ghost Story (Trans-dimensional Ghosts)

Eventually, Caden just stopped telling people his warlock path was Death. He could only be mistaken for a necromancer so many times before wishing to disappear off the face of the earth. It was an old superstition that should have died out years ago but that regular non-magical humans seemed determined to cling to. Caden was most certainly not a necromancer.

College Story (Previous Lives and Premonitions)

Arin sauntered over to Toby wearing his signature smirk to hide the fact that he was concerned as to why Toby hadn’t answered either his messages or his two attempts at calling him, especially since he was staring at his phone right now.

“Is your phone dead?” Opting for a carefree, unworried tone, Arin tried for humor rather than just scolding the other when he didn’t know all the facts. Toby wasn’t actually obligated to answer him, and it wasn’t the first time he’d waited for a response. Sometimes Toby had fallen asleep or was having fun with his friends or was just too lazy to check his phone, except here, Arin was slightly more put out because it seemed that Toby was intentionally ignoring him. “Toby.”

Magick Story (Spider Silk)

“Martin,” Natalie says when she breezes into the stationary shop at half-past eleven with an enormous tote bag slung over one arm and a tiny coffee in the other, “Can you sell a me dozen insincere apologies to go? I have no time to write them myself.”

After a pause where the both of them pretend like Natalie’s bag isn’t moving, Martin presses his lips together and turns to grab some of the offensively pink paper his most frequent customer likes. “Shall I leave the names blank?”

Apocalypse Story (Two Alone)

Ben watches Ty scrub the grit out of the scratches on his shin and waits for his heart to stop tumbling around in his chest. Clearly, there is nothing to be concerned about, if Ty is so nonchalant about being possibly infected with black blood. The thudding in his chest is not letting up, so he finally screws up his courage - and why it’s harder to ask Ty a simple question than to cross a city at night is a conundrum for another day - and asks, “Should we be worried?”

Hunter Story (Home is Where the Heart Is) this is literally all I have!

“Home is where the Heart is,” Abari began, her voice a low song in the hush of deep night. “The Winterbeast holds it captive, and the Hunter must set it free.”

“The Heart is for the Hunter, is for the season, is for the spring,” Eksal faithfully repeated.

Summon Story (Blood Bonds) I hate this title so much

Sinderport was like most cities: packed with buildings and packed fuller with bodies.

It was made primarily of limestone, brought down from the quarries not far to the north, and the nicer parts had muddy-hued bricks to change up the greys. Everything was stained with soot, from the factories, and from the ember-lamps that lit most of the streets. Though the smoke ran clear, its residue dried in flakes that stuck to any surface unless cleaned.

In appearance, Sinderport was just like other cities. But of course, the real heart of any collection of buildings were the people that lived and worked in them. The citizens of Sinderport were what set it apart.

City Story (dirt in the doing)

He’s not a naturally curious person. If it doesn’t pertain to his current activities or classes or mood, Jet feels no obligation to concern himself with the business of others. It’s not like he has any extra feelings to spare. He barely has any for himself. The necessary ones mostly: anger, stubbornness, unfortunately sensible fear, even more unfortunate desire. Jet runs on adrenaline and spite and he doesn’t need or want other people around cluttering up his spaces or plans unless they’re going to listen to him and be useful.

Death Story (The Score)

On May 2nd, 1964, Lawrence Whitely broke the first tier between earth and aether, and spent the next 50 years descending the waterfall.

He does not remember falling.

Youth Story (Youth: the ephemeral infinite)

If it had been any other day, R would have been fist to face with Mark at this very moment, but it was Nyks’ birthday. It was also the first of September, a month that nobody really liked while they were still in school, but it was Nyks’ birthday. It was also a rather grey day, not raining but not sunny, with an odd chill in the air for summer not being over yet, but it was Nyks’ birthday.

It wasn’t any other day, and so R was behaving himself.

Not that Nyks was at all fooled. Good behavior meant nothing if there wasn’t an attitude to back it up, and R’s slouched shoulders and moody disposition wasn’t at all helpful in convincing anyone that he was happy to be in the same vicinity as his mortal enemy but not allowed to punch him.

I also have a bunch of fics I could've included, but I guess I'll wait until I get tagged again to do that version. @writingonesdreams give me ALL the AUs @gwens-fiction @asomeoneperson @talesofsorrowandofruin @ren-c-leyn AND NO PRESSURE ALSO OPEN TAG

#tag game #first lines #first lines tag

9 notes · View notes

ladylove0607 · 1 month

Text

Really depressed right now. People here in Louisiana are gangstalking me. The Litty that had a profile on here for 25 years either blocked me or it got deleted. I hope he's ok because I know that all this mess is making me not feel well. I'm trying to hold on and believe but it wouldn't surprise me if I waited all these years for everything I never thought of have just to be forgotten and unloved. I try to keep positive but, it's hard to when I didn't feel good about myself and constantly have hoes trying to break me down and insinuating I'm gonna get hit according to Jade pitre(Nantucket) or that I'm a heritick and need my nose clipped. I'm the one that the Queen of England did like a royal adoption because I was already Gunner which meant Queen. That's why she built the two private cargo Jets her and her little sister for me and I watched Prince Charles traveled like wife do her broadcast announcing that's what she was that she was going to get it popping off to the rest of the world could do the same. I'm the same one that cleared South America and 3 weeks and dug the trench we're trying to dad used to be because of them all becoming rapists who were kidnapping women and bringing them there and doing horrible things. I tried to stay by Tammy's side but she was trying to prepare me to be parlored and I ended up the mass colon infection and ended up having to go to the hospital and they chose to send me to a mental institution with no antibiotics had to argue and fight with them just to get sent and they gave me the abiliby shot and said they weren't going to let me out if I didn't take it. My kids are dead they were parlored along with my biological brother Jason Ard and and the former Master Commander of the American Navy jimminy I was beaten over and over again because I wouldn't say I was a hoe when I really wasn't. I don't care if you don't want to read this don't and people want to say why am I posting this well cuz back in the day I'm going to shut everything down and I can't seem to get anybody to give a s*** about me in America because they all act like they hated me the whole time anyway and that's not true I don't see nobody showing me any God damn give a f***. Maybe somebody will give a s*** because I don't know how long y'all want me to keep holding on when they're telling me to kill myself constantly or insinuating that they've been with him because that's what they do. I feel like I don't exist I feel like I don't matter I miss my papa Walt Oces I barely got to know him. I'm sitting in my room right now with a window unit on and my children's room at that so I'm constantly being made to feel all this. The two people who were my tutorship parents not cuz I wanted them to be and they took that position when I was 10 and a half because of mad dog Cleo and Maureen being euthanized in South America when I was 10 and a half. Never moved out of my house took over my inheritance account and I can't get anybody to help me so I don't have a penny I have nothing story of My Life

0 notes

ireallydontunderstandpeopleatall · 11 months

Text

I was getting my hair done at the Hair Salon and the Google camera. a few times when I came home. I noticed he had pooped and threw up. Correction to the 1st sentence. I said smores is having stomach pain. He is pushing his butt up he is looking uncomfortable he does not seem to be feeling well. It's 4th eating his food but I just saw him take a drink of water. Correction it's 4 o'clock and hes not eating his food? I read online that they can have a foreign object stuck in their bodies for a while the foreign body can become deadly by creating infections inside. Or the foreign body can pass their body but it has been 4 days. He swallowed he chewed a bone on Tuesday. It is now Wednesday he was in bad shape. Correction it is now Sunday on Wednesday. He was in bad shape and I was considering taking him to the vet but after he took a nap he seemed all better. So I did not end up taking him to the vet. It's a few days later. And he is having stomach pain and he might need to go to the vet. They are close today on Sunday so I will have to wait till tomorrow and do it walk in. Am I trip to Atlanta on Friday? So this is a very bad timing and if smores is in bad shape or bad condition. I may not get to go to Atlanta.

Also I told Richard today on Sunday that I will be leaving for Atlanta this weekend and we got an argument. He told me that he will not have sex with me anymore if I go on this trip. In which I got extremely angry of course and told him that he is cutting me off when he feels like. I'm doing something he doesn't like but when other people ask him out. It's not an issue and he openly and gladly accepts their invitation. I also told him that he was not having sex with me anyways so I don't care. And to be honest I did feel guilty and I felt bad and I was kind of shaking when I told him what when I had to break it to. Him that I was leaving out of town to go meet a boy. When I talk to rose and she talks about her ex boyfriend. She talks and when she mentions him she seems very scared that he observes her in certain ways. And that she has to watch what she does so that she doesn't offend him and that he can't judge her. It gets me thinking about how toxic. And manipulative men can be to us and control so much of how we think and feel. For example Darren's already left her house and she drove out with her child to the store. And she took a turn and she may have cut somebody off and traffic but that she stopped might be his car and she was worried that he saw. Her cut someone off and she sounded like she was an anxiety. And it's funny because when I told Richard about me going out of state this weekend. I was worried about what he thought and how he would react and how he would feel and what he would say and I was nervous to tell him. More nervous than I was to tell my family. And I shouldn't have to feel any of that and I shouldn't have to question or 2nd guess myself. Because he cheated on me with multiple people and led to me the entire relationship so why do I feel this way?

0 notes

theteej · 1 year

Text

Islands Away

I clutched my passport and vaccine card in my hand as I wound my way through the airport queues. I hadn’t travelled internationally in three years, and here I was, leaving for nearly five weeks to the South Pacific. What the hell was I thinking?!

I first travelled to Aotearoa/New Zealand in 2017 as an exhausted and somewhat broken professor at Washington and Lee in Virginia. Aotearoa shaped me in some profound and confusing ways. It was my first long-term international work trip outside of the UK or Southern Africa, where I’d undertaken all of my PhD and book research. This was new, the first steps toward my next book, Conjugal States, which explores how monogamy and polygamy were understood and deployed in colonial contexts ranging from South Africa to Aotearoa to Canada and parts of the U.S. I realized I had so much more to learn, and when I first touched down in the new country I was humbled by the constant generosity of people, challenged by the similarities and differences of colonial violence in a space new to me, and excited by growing as a scholar and a person. My dear friends Rachel and David made space in their hearts and lives, and welcomed me back in 2019 when I came back for follow-up research in Wellington. This was a chance to build on two months of research, to decide what I was really looking for, and to become reacquainted with old friends.

This trip would be different, however. My dear friend Mark Daku, who I first met as a graduate student in South Africa, was closing out his time in Fiji, where he and his partner had been for two years. In characteristic Mark fashion, he said, “look, why don’t you just come? There’s plenty of relevant work here to discuss for your research. You can also give a talk here at the University of the South Pacific, and you can just be here for awhile. You’re in the same time zone as New Zealand, anyway. Do it.”

So….I did it. I applied for summer travel funding, and I went. I found myself for the first time in three years, feeling excited as I left the United States and headed far, far away—albeit this time with a mask and a healthy amount of pandemic anxiety where I hoped that my April bout of covid would help me resist re-infection in the two newly re-opened countries.

As the plane doors closed that Saturday night in July, I found myself remembering that slightly ominous passage by Agatha Christie in And Then There Were None:

“There was something magical about an island—the mere word suggested fantasy. You lost touch with the world—an island was a world of its own. A world, perhaps, from which you might never return.”

I had never been to Fiji before, and as the intense humidity engulfed me like a wet blanket, despite the ostensible Southern Hemisphere winter, I took an instinctive deep breath in. I had flown thirteen hours and nineteen time zones around the world and found myself in a place I’d only read about for work. And yet, it was surreal. The indigenous peoples of Fiji, iTaukei, bear more than a passing resemblance to me. We both have the same slightly coppery skin tone and a similar hair curl pattern. Historically, thanks to colonial naming practices, iTaukei also frequently identified as Black, and it was therefore particularly disorienting to arrive in a country where people looked like you, had similar bigger body types, and things seemed like echoes of things you already knew. As a mixed-race Black American there’s a frequent misrecognition that my body undergoes; but there’s also a sense of not really looking like anyone else. I look like my white mother and my Black father, but I also don’t. I found myself looking into faces and walking along the streets of Suva and Nadi trying to see familiarity and difference.

People often asked me if I was from Tonga, another nearby nation, which was confusing, too. The misrecognition continued apace. It was strange and beautiful to be in the somewhat sleepy but also oddly busy capital city of Suva, as I walked with Mark and Jenn and their irrepressibly cheery dog, Pirate. I walked through freak sunshowers that left me drenched, I ate a terrifying number of coconuts. I slipped slightly out of veganism to try Kokoda, a Fijian fish dish that resembled ceviche, served with chiles and cassava. It was amazing. I drank kava and rum and tried to learn everything I could. What did it mean to wander streets marked with so many familiar colonial names I knew from South Africa and the UK? What did it mean to move through a country that had endured four coups since 1987, that felt the racial fault lines from British colonialism and Indian indenture migration? There were so many parallels to South Africa. There were so many ways in which my brown and inquisitive body moved through narrow alleyways and along beach paths and just smiled in the bright sunshine, trying to understand and learn. It was an indescribable joy to be back with my dear friend Mark, who truly gets me in a way that most other people don’t. We’d been travel companions a decade earlier as anxious graduate students; now we were a little more grown, and trying to figure out everything. But Mark always knows exactly how to reach me with his love of the absurd and the asinine, and his sharp wit and generous heart make me think in new ways, even if his somewhat sunny cynicism is a weird counterpart to my own.

I met dear and wonderful people, academics like Milla building new generations of scholars and giving words for experiences; effortlessly kind cinephiles like Ben, whose passion for music and art were infectious; brilliant climate change activists like Dylan, determined to make Fiji a better and more just place for the future. I wandered and laughed and cried and….for the first time in three years, actually rested. I stopped. I breathed in, I felt the sun on my face and I tried to accept the surreal gift of a paid academic trip to think and talk and process and exist. I still can’t believe it happened, and it was such a beautiful offering of sun and healing to my battered body before the work and joy of another return to Aotearoa.

After ten days, I left the daily 85 degree (30 Celsius) weather of Fiji for the middle of an Aotearoa in a proper winter.

New Zealand, known in the language of the Indigenous Māori people as Aotearoa, “Land of the Long White Cloud,” is still one of the places that makes my heart catch in my throat when I’m there. It continues to feel like a home in a way I’m never fully prepared for, and it draws me back and challenges me in new ways every time. What does it mean to be a non-indigenous Black person, and how do I make moments of commonality and community? How do I navigate colonialism? How do I bring my knowledge to bear as a historian of the colonial nineteenth century and Indigenous autonomy? I’ve been working as a historian of colonial Aotearoa now for nearly five years, and the impostor syndrome is strong. I don’t’ want it to go away anytime soon, because I have to be accountable to a world that is not mine, to a place bigger than me, and to navigate a place filled with people living and surviving and making space.

I was initially supposed to land in Auckland for a brief layover and then fly on to Wellington where I’d stay with my friends Rachel and David. Yet unseasonably strong winds had grounded all remaining flights for the day between Auckland and Wellington, and so I found myself stuck in the city for the next twenty-four hours. This would’ve been bothersome or an inconvenience in other instances, but my dear friend Karen (who is also Rachel’s mother!), answered my anxious text message and insisted I come home to stay with her for the night. She showed up almost immediately, hugged me close and told me “welcome home,” pushed me out of her hair and directed me from her brilliant home in Otahuhu toward trails and places I remembered in the city centre, outside the famous Auckland War Museum. I admit I cried in the airport when it hit me that I had family in Aotearoa. Karen (along with Rachel, David, and David’s parents as well)—had in many ways adopted me as their errant North American relative, and after the last three years I felt particularly grateful as well as vulnerable. Karen and I chatted about her work in education and mine in anticolonial history. As always, she made space, and invited me into her life, and shared her kindness along with her copious mugs of tea.

The next day began my two and a half weeks in Wellington, where I stayed with my dear friends (or Rachel, as we waited for David to return from a trip in Europe), and got right to work in the archives. This was my third trip to the New Zealand National Archives, and I spent most days tracking down records of bigamous marriages, matrimonial infidelity, and the challenges of Māori and Pākehā (European) claims on belonging and family estates. It’s honestly the best fucking thing I get to do.

Research is the best part of the gig; there are no onerous responsibilities, only joy. You get to take in information and think and ponder and leave the analysis to some future version of yourself, sad in front of a laptop in a local café. Too bad, future T.J.! This is a time for DREAMS. I traced so many stories, and journeyed through archival trails. I got to reconnect with friends I hadn’t seen in years, including Matthew, Avery, Corry and Charlie, and generally felt so happy to be back in a place that brings me joy. After a brief and scary episode where David tested positive for covid on his return and we all had to isolate, we went on an epic work and joy filled road trip.

First we headed to Te Waipounamu (the South Island) and the city of Christchurch (Ōtautahi), where I explored the next archival repository for documents, tried new vegan restaurants, visited a kitschy French-themed tourist site, and just sat and cried in the beautiful amber lights of a winter sunset with friends who made me feel safe. While there I splurged and bought a stuffed handmade wool octopus that I named Te Wheke, the Māori word for octopus (original, I know). He’s now a dear and constant companion.

We headed back to Te Ika-a-Māui (the North Island) for the final week, I double checked documents in Auckland, and I also finalized my most ambitious plan yet—to formally apply for the 2024 Fulbright to come back and spend time back in Te Waipounamu for six months. I made arrangements with colleagues at the University of Otago, applied, and held my breath. We’ll see what happens. If it works, I’ll get the last documents read in Dunedin, work on developing competency in te reo Māori (the Māori language), and teach an African history class. I’ll be able to come back to another wonderful place that makes me feel like I’m home and can breathe once again.

When the time came, Rachel and Karen and David all saw me off to the airport. “You’re family, and that’s what we do,” Karen said with a smile. Te Wheke and I shuffled down to departing flights, and I cried a little. I can’t wait to come back home again. I’m so glad I got to breathe and recover, and find another space after so many years of exhaustion. Sometimes an island is not a fantasy, but a place you can return to, over and over again, bringing something new each time.

#tallie2022stories

1 note · View note