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quillheel · 7 months

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04. entry made after experiencing a nightmare. ( for kim mayhaps? :0 )

DEAR DIARY... // always accepting!!!

poised vertically among a dozen and a half of its brothers on a shelf that is not cramped, but in equal measure begins to lose its space, is a notebook. hands pluck it out by the top ridge along the well-made blue spine, the skin of it covered carefully in a deep navy, the papers a pristine white. inside, the handwriting is dense and thick and fast, bunched together on each line, a code with it's cipher in the language itself. it has not sat here long. the date on the inner cover like the notice of an eviction in black, fluid pen; '50 - '51.

you open it. its pages rustle as though a guarded cage has been opened, rendered vulnerable, almost meek despite the intimidation of straight iron and pressed paper, rustling like a snarl. you sit with it, you learn it, it learns you. it is uncomfortable with what is asked of it. you ask anyway.

you reach back into the memory it holds. it gives way, like sticking your hand in the guts of a soft oily thing, or jello, reaching for a pearl in a clam-shell.

━ I have had more nightmares in the past two weeks than I have in four months. I don't know how much longer I can do this.

Maybe the stress is getting to me. Seeing the recently deceased is never good for your health, but I can't afford to take leave. If I did, all the ground I'd been covering my entire career will be torn out from under me. I'm lucky. I think it's more than just the corpses.

I keep watching him die. There is blood drawn. Kortenaer aims higher. Shoots. The bullet ruptures his liver as a virulent bomb inside of him. he is unconscious after an unimaginably painful half-second. Someone shouts. I panic. I attempt to stop the bleeding. I do not see de Paule. She aims. Shoots. I wake up in the 57th infirmary. I am forced to ask what happened to him instead of being told. I am informed there was nothing they could do, dead within the two days I am unconscious, an excruciating death as the liver and gallbladder poisons his bloodstream even as the bleeding stops. I do not get to see him again. I do not even know if there is a funeral held. The trial never happens. They were gone. We remained. I remain.

The dream changes often, sometimes being so abstract as if only pertaining to the color of his existence or Martinaise itself, but the point remains the same. somewhere in Jamrock, another little light blinks out.

This hasn't happened since Eyes, and never this constant. I wish I could call him.

I don't know. I'm tired. I want to hear his voice. I want to talk to him again. It's late. He'd answer.

The ink is allowed to dry for a long, long time. the pearl is clutched in your right hand. your reaching the end, oblivion, always cut short.

I'm going to work on the Kineema. I can't really, the only thing to do is something to I want to do with him, but an unnecessary tune-up is enough to keep my hands busy.

Maybe then I'll be able to go back to sleep.

#BITES BITES BITES BITES BITES THIS. chews gnaws. i love u kim u are sm to me.....#thank u grimm i care him SO much. i did backflips to keep this vague enough for u to actually read w/o too many spoilers BKHB #which tbh i'd do either way just bc kim is Vague like that so BHGKRT #━ ♔ cardinals with snow-brushed wings : asks.#deathwis #MUSE / Kim Kitsuragi #STUDY / Kim Kitsuragi #━ ♔ shielding your eyes from the bright noon-light : studies.#━ ♔ you sing but only the pavement listens : ic.#death //#violence //#━ ♔ wanting like flesh knitting over a wound : xxx.#grief //

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khalesci · 2 months

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dany putting daario aside in the show makes sense politically I guess but what really does *not* make sense is her leaving him to rule the city for her like??? y'all??? that man could not run a Wendy's

#♛ ooc. ⊱ ❝ 𝘖𝘩 𝘯𝘰 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘪. ❞#he is a sellsword captain not a king those styles of leadership are entirely different #sellsword law is a code of violence and greed and dany knows that #she would NOT let that man run a city I'm sorry #help keep the peace? sure. but run the place? nah.#like what is the logic in going 'you're not king material we have to end this but also I want you to rule this city' WHAT #anyway if they wanted a better excuse to break them up to make room for [redacted] to happen later #they should have just made him toxic like in the books and not the biggest simp #bc book!dany has every reason to cut this man out of her life but show!dany doing it???? she's just getting rid of her biggest supporter #it feels like the writers sabotaging her character again and making her a politically driven ice queen #instead of struggling with her own romanticism and loneliness #when really dany is a very emotion-driven person and her heart is her biggest weakness #because . . . idk bullshit 'girl power' reasons or something like that #I do not understand the logic in changing her character so much outside of 'woman with feeling WEAK woman without feeling STRONG'#dave & dan I am in your fucking walls

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godblooded · 1 year

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i just gotta say peoples' obsessions with writing toxic relationships just concerns the shit outta me on this hellsite.

#ooc. your local bodega kat.#[everyone: i love complex relationships! what everyone means: couples fighting is normal! so if they're horrendous to each other #sometimes it's normal!!#couples fight like... of course. it's unhealthy NOT to fight. but there's a level where it's....uhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHH and some of what's said #or done that people condone on here is wild. if i had a nickel for every time i saw someone say their character was a wonderful spouse and #then display like 10 reasons why they're covertly emotionally or verbally abusive. the rpc has such a tendency to refer to dv in one #specific term when it comes to ic ships and it's always physical but everything else is 'complex' and man that's worrying. see also: why #i was taught in grad school never to teach streetcar with marlon brando because students excuse him immediately due to his looks and his #bullshit angst. it's alarming as fuck. coming from parents who were sometimes physically abusive (to me and each other) like... this also #needs to be recognized in self-critical media. there's so much shit that needs evaluating. and it's not like i've never written a toxic #ship. i wrote the fucking WORST on at one point because i was too chickenshit to get alana out of it. and it ended in her being DESTROYED.#you know. like those kind of relationships tend to end in. like. my ex-father beat the fuck out of a dude in a bar who hit on my mom and #then when he found out the guy died a day later it was military or jail and he went military. and then my mom took him BACK. this is REAL #LIFE SHIT. writing it is virtually incredibly depressing and writing it without making clear it's fucked up is worse. whether you've been #through it or not. in that case: why even. shit hurts enough when you go through it. why would you want to vicariously go through it #being a fake person if there was no way to turn the outcome through healing and positive growth. sorry for being an optimist basically.]#domestic violence mention /#domestic abuse mention /#abuse mention /#murder mention /#[i'm just thinking back on the most toxic fucking verse i ever had and how glad i am said person and i no longer speak.]

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medicus-felini · 4 months

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@waxgentleman asked: It's a bit awkward. Everytime Victoria Punk arrived, usually they would meet, happily garchu and have tea to share the news of their last voyage. However that night, the mink stood taller than him with an aura equal to her captain. Impossible to approach. Mr 3 was sure that was Linn, as she had told him about that exact transformation before in one of these said tea parties. She looked so scary, that it took him almost half an hour to walk closer—and without a face to snuzzle. He simply pats on her arm, already regretting his choice. " ….. ga.. garchu?? Missy L—linn….." (( SULLIN DAAY SULLIN DAAAY ♡ at the start of the relationship ? Pls dont kill him hes just a lil guy :(((( just wanted an garchu??

────────────────────────

☾ 𝕊𝕦𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘 ☽

────────────────────────

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝘀𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝗿 𝘄𝐚𝘀 𝐛𝗿𝘂𝘀𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝐞𝐧𝘀𝐞 𝐟𝘂𝗿, 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝘄𝐚𝘀 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝘀𝐩𝐨𝘁 𝐛𝘆 𝐜𝗿𝐢𝐦𝘀𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝘆𝐞𝘀. Narrowing in suspicion at first, but turning into a questioning gaze as they follow his arm & eventually rest on Mr. 3's face. If it wasn't pure fear that her nose picked up, it was nervousness — maybe a good pint of respect. Linn did not remember teaching Galdino this weird version of minkship.

❝ What about the hand ? ❞ A cold stare, unfazed by this attempt to test the waters with her form. ❝ Told you it was with the nose. Tip to tip. Not that hard, really. Sigh. ❞ The doctor places both hands against Galdino's shoulders, claws dangerously close to the poor man's neck, while readjusting his position so she would be able to look down at him in a straight fashion. Before he could utter another word, a firm brush against his nose. With Linn's very own.

❝ Garchu. More pronunciation on the 'R' next time. ❞

#waxgentleman #*breathes in*#HUUAAAAAAAGH DO NOT BE SCARED PLEASE COME ON NOW #She won't hurt you (much) because bg is mostly playing the punching bag :3c #His legs do look like a decent scratching post tho.....#Help he is just so weird he is awkward #It's like giving someone thumbs up while greeting them with a 'hello'#⚕ ⦅ Second cadence. ⦆⠀⠀/ galdinoverse .#⚕ ⦅ Consultation hour. ⦆⠀⠀/ ic .#⚕ ⦅ Free ticket for violence ⦆⠀⠀/ Sulinn day .#⚕ ⦅ Candlelight dinner. ⦆⠀⠀/ Galdinoverse .

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solarisgod · 5 months

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❝ Don't ask me to fetch that stick . ❞

A sick laughter leaves the darkest star becoming colder , crueler , its head shaken at the words from @deveils . While standing deadly close to the dog , it takes a sharp inhale of its cigarette , lets its lungs hold in the flaring before it spits at Warlock's face . ❝ You nearly tore our arm off like it's the best bone to gnaw on from a scrap , ❞ Phobos hisses out the reminder , but it still smiles at sanguine memories . It recalls the sweet burning through their body's veins , then Micah's crying . . . ❝ Thought you'd obey if that's how you've been acting . . . following us around as you are a lost ⅋ unowned dog . ❞ 〔 Beloved , this is too much , you gotta st─ 〕 Phobos ignores Philos , removing the cigarette out of its mouth , then , it casually flicks the roll at its muzzle . ❝ Fetch , ❞ it orders again in a cutting sneer , hoping Warlock will bite it once more with rage . ❝ . . . Or is it you need to relearn how to do that ? ❞ Phobos doesn't let it answer ⅋ grabs Warlock's neck , using its most strength to drag it down to the floor . It places its knee against the back to keep Warlock still , even when the monster isn't resisting . That pisses Phobos off more while it scoffs out of twisted amusement . ❝ This better teach you a good lesson on how to stay away from us , also . ❞ Phobos squeezes around its neck at the end , creating a disgusting reminder that covers every kind memories Phobos had with it since June . After what happened between it ⅋ Micah lately , Warlock ruins all of Phobos' trust ⅋ respect in it . ❝ Come back to us again , I'll kill you . ❞ Not a threat Phobos gives , but more as a promise made in Warlock's bones ⅋ blood .

#STRANGULATION CW #DEHUMANIZATION CW #VIOLENCE CW #DEVEILS #///#//#/#𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ IC . ›#𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ ANSWERS . ›#𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ V : MAIN / ACT I.III. . ›#𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ PHOBOS . ›#[ I am so mentally fucking ill from this I hate this so much ]#[ but Phobos won't shut up in my mind since we reblogged that promptpost y'know ]#[ I need to lie down I am just so . ]

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lastmurianwarrior · 8 months

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💭 !!

((HOo boy, I had fun - settling on a scene was tough though. With this blog's Solo pulling from the games and anime most, it's an interesting dance to incorporate as much lore from either media as possible, while fleshing out the details and making sense of it. I want to do Laplace too, but this ended up long enough, that I think I'll save that for a new post. This is a window into a particularly pivotal day for Solo, from long long ago.))

FLASHBACK: Aching eyes from bright sunlight that poured in through the pale-green air shuttle's sliding door, was the first greeting from this ground-dwelling destination to meet the passengers from Mu as they arrived for a diplomatic meeting that would inevitably unravel into unamusing discourse.

Solo followed from behind as the small crew of Mu officials ambled out onto a wide dusty circle. At 13 he was deemed mature and expected to take on the responsibilities of his noble position. Getting to know the world and involving himself in geopolitical discussions would be a start. But Mu’s tactician always wanted him to play along and read from a script; becoming furious if Solo changed any of the details.

It was too embarrassing to admit he hadn’t paid enough attention to what was happening between Mu and the tribes on the ground. But some of the things he’d had to say, never set well with him, and he at least knew from faces in the crowds that it didn’t set well with the tribes either. Mulling over that fact, Solo didn’t feel like involving himself this time, and the spectacle of this foreign town was enough to tempt him into skipping the day’s meeting altogether to go explore on his own; to get to know the people and sniff out some local treats.

The tactician; Mu’s master-planner, a tall old man, dressed darkly and with a hat like a tower on his head, flattened at the top, marched in front, expecting everyone to keep up with his long stride. He threw a few indignant sneers back at Solo for lagging behind, but didn’t waste any time waiting around.

Jagged megaliths with the visages of important people and revered animals; as though guarding the walkways, guided the visitors to a stone brick roadway populated by village-folk; merchants, carvers, toolmakers, and farmers all with their fare and animals to offer.

There was little hope of convincing the locals that Mu technology wasn’t all powered by some magic or divine force; even many of Mu’s people themselves still believed this. A small portion of the village dawned their most elaborate garb to dance, while musicians of woodwind and bone instruments played tunes almost magical in their own way. Such flamboyance was motivated by hopes of earning favor from their sky visitors, of course.

Each of the Mu officials strolled on, paying no heed to the garish ensemble, stopping only briefly to look back with steely eyes as they entered the tallest building for miles; a relic of stone architecture from a time when the floating continent of Mu was still rooted firmly in the ground; a mere hundred years prior. Newer construction surrounding it seemed oddly more primitive; distinguished by a framework of wood, mastodon tusks, and painted animal hides.

Rather than join his party inside, Solo took a turn on his own to walk further down the street. Breaking the sunlight induced glare, his eyes filled with wonder at the rocky scrublands, patched with temperate foliage and exotic flowers, then shifted to soaking in the sight of all the people; many of them thoroughly tanned, wrapped in lightweight yellow, green, orange, or red textiles, and leather garb. Camelids and barely tame village-dogs moseyed about the street, which narrowed, then broke off into a dead end marked by spiny overgrowth that trailed off in the direction of a distantly roaring waterfall from glacial melt.

As he kept his pace along the bustling street, the thought of moving aside for others hadn’t so much as cross his mind. In spite of the open airspace, the walkway was claustrophobic compared to the vast halls within the upper floors of Mu that he’d grown up in. Roughly brushing shoulders with folk disinterested in showing the noble Murian respect, however, struck Solo with the gut-wrenching sense that something had changed in the atmosphere; there was a rising tension distinctly in opposition to the affection, wonder, intrigue, and most importantly; respect, that his presence once garnered.

Suspicious and apprehensive eyes began to track his white-haired, ruby-eyed presence from all sides, and seemed to grow in number with every step. He had no choice but to stand out. Even the sheen of his perfectly angular earrings set him apart from the largely stone-age folk occupying this territory. Attempting to pay no mind to them, he chose a collection of produce to fixate on; legumes, wild grains, and various medicinal herbs sorted into piles atop mats, or stuffed into laboriously hand-woven baskets. The merchant’s most prized however, were dainty yellow-orange squash whose flowers had been hand pollinated to ensure a pure, sweeter new strain; a dozen of them to the side, clean and neatly ordered.

While small-scale efforts were made to farm on the floating continent, ground dwelling villages such as this one were agriculturally vital to Mu’s food line. Few peoples in the world had proven so dedicated to cultivating new resilient and appetizing crop varieties as here. It was both a necessity and a luxury Mu couldn’t afford to loose by getting into a war with.

“Give me your best one.”

Solo stiffly ordered, absentminded of his entitled tone; after all, why shouldn’t he want the best, when the best is what his people always seemed to expect of him? He was taken aback when the seller chided him for his complex, and refused to give him one unless he had something of value to offer, like his earrings, which was a definite no.

Unsettled, he made a silent turn, landing him unexpectedly in front of a much taller man, that suddenly reprimanded the young noble for his poor manners, sparking a whole onset of village-folk spitting their dissatisfaction with Mu in Solo’s general direction. Before anyone had even said a negative word, his innocent curiosity had already given way, replaced by a confused panic, that he fought to entirely conceal. Up to that point, he’d never personally encountered a crowd that would so readily turn on him; that would band together like this.

“You always get more than we could ever dream to ask for! Yet you have the nerve to want the best that we have!”

“You claim Mu is our security!? You threaten us with the very same power and weapons you claim to protect us with!”

“Do you even remember the villages that were burned for the sake of cooperation with Mu!? Or is that just another necessary sacrifice to you!?”

“The powers of Mu are unnatural! - This world would be better off without your kind, you monsters!”

Mu’s very recent exercise of dominance through displays of great destructive power across the world was likely to blame for igniting the sudden hostility. Offerings made to Mu that were once given out of love and hope of blessing, were now bribes for mere survival or an advantage over other tribes.

None took too kindly to being viewed as tools by much of the higher Murian caste. Some were bursting at the seams to make those feelings clear; viewing this moment as an opportunity to do so; to make a demonstration of one of Mu’s supposedly treasured individuals.

The now quite unpopular noble, snapped a reply,

“Isn’t that how the world works? - Those with power, get to make the rules! They can take what they want!”

Yet somehow, speaking only made him look more foolish to the crowd.

The fuss continued, yet fell into the background of Solo’s mind as an almost sly-looking young man, came within arm’s reach of the lone Murian, and with him, a few others trickled in to form a feisty-looking circle around their flustered visitor. Solo’s first instinct was to tuck his chin into the high teal turtleneck of his uniform, wishing he could just hide within an impenetrable shell, like some kind of turtle. Goading him on, the other young man questioned,

“So you think you can just do what you want huh?”

Without a second thought, Solo snapped back,

“Yes, I’ll do as I please.”

The other young man, keeping his smug cool, continued as though setting up some kind of hostile joke,

“Oh yeah, and what makes you so special?”

The Mu noble spewed whatever came to mind first, everything he said was going to be used against him at this point; but loosing his temper made it impossible to keep his mouth shut.

“The blood of Mu that courses through my veins!”

Swiftly came the interrogator's searing punchline,

“Mhm, and if that’s so valuable, maybe spilling it on the streets will finally pay for all the food and labor you’ve taken from my people!”

“Now tell me Mu child - If you really can see more than us with those unearthly eyes. Can you see this?”

Solo indignantly glanced around with puzzled frustration. But a mere second later the young man’s fist made a hard landing across the noble kid’s face. Enraged shock filled every ounce of Solo’s being, as he finally let out a sharp shout; though almost swallowing his own breath in the process,

“GAAAHH, I-I could take any of you on!”

The prompt response of the crowd was by no means reassuring for the loner in its middle. Someone interjected from behind,

“Shut up! Maybe you could. But not all of us together!”

With that, Solo felt his legs kicked out from behind. Others worked to keep him on the ground. As a soft faced wiry kid, Solo was tough, but against the gang surrounding him, he seemed more akin to a small bird surrounded by lions. They were rugged and strong, they knew they were always lifting more than their share of weight in this world.

The young Murian wasn’t ready for this; he wasn’t ready to just EM Wave change on a whim. Let alone, in the midst of such confusion. But enraged by the insults of the crowd, he used all his strength to prop himself back up with his arms, just to look them in the eyes.

“I’ll hunt you down! …I’ll-I’ll make you know what it really means to suffer!”

At that, they only beat him harder. Face to the bricks, Solo froze up completely, and by the time three thunderous shouts from the other Mu officials broke up the crowd, their child of Mu was already in a limp haze.

Solo hadn’t known true fear or suffering before this. It was his first taste; his first bite, and it made his stomach sick. No one had so much as asked him to think over the fate of the peoples that might’ve opposed Mu. The mere thought of opposing Mu was a pill so foreign, nothing could make him swallow it; they must have been enemies…

As the first of multiple incidents following a similar theme, Solo grew to immensely despise crowds.

Though word spread of decimated villages who opposed Mu’s total reign, many continued to view those of Mu as auspicious, brushing other tribe’s grievances off as rumors, or unconcerning to those that remained loyal to their empire.

However, Solo never got over the feeling that others could turn on him at any moment should Mu fail to ensure they felt blessed with fortunate harvests or secure infrastructure; or for that matter, any reason they wanted. Trusting others became an only barely surpassable obstacle for him.

… The reign of his people lasted only a mere three years after.

#This occurs in a somewhat ambiguous setting along one of the equatorial post-Ice Age cradles of civilization - in this au of earth #sorry my poor boy was indoctrinated by the late empire of Mu - he hasn't entirely recovered. actually he has a long way to go hehhh #((All my week is blocked off for work - But I'll get as much as I can in here; they’re relatively short shifts this time but I need sleeeep #fine to reblog #long post #Cw violence #mega man star force #[Flashback: window to the past]#I have this possibly off the wall headcanon that the game-verse Solo grew up on Mu but didn't remember it- like he has amnesia #and that his flashbacks are fragmented memories #Him living on the top floor is actually an idea pulled from the manga - so there's that little bit of influence lol #Anonymous #answered asks

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quadrantadvisor · 1 year

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What your favorite Goncharov (1973) ship says about you:

Goncharov/Andrey: You believe in the inherent homoeroticism of unhealthy codependency and mutual self-destruction (also you watched the film and have eyes)

Katya/Sofia: You think Sofia deserved more screen time and also you're gay.

Andrey/Mario: You've been looking at gif sets of every time they lock eyes with eachother for 6 hours now. You are weeping and gnashing your teeth.

Andrey/Ice Pick Joe: You either have very strong opinions about the integrity of the film's messaging and want to preserve Goncharov's death but let the most traumatized characters involved find solace in eachother and heal, OR Ice Pick Joe is your little meow meow.

Goncharov/Mario: You believe in the inherent homoeroticism of planning your boss's murder.

Andrey/Goncharov/Mario: You just wish everyone could get along. Also a 99% chance that you enjoy fluffy modern aus.

Valery/Sofia: At this point these characters are basically your ocs and you're having a great time.

Goncharov/Katya: EITHER you are one of the most interesting people in the fandom and you've written essay-length analysis posts about the enduring complexity of their marriage and how it both pits them against eachother and leaves them as one another's only allies in a harsh and unforgiving world, or you're boring and straight.

Andrey/Katya: You're straight but you stan Andrey.

Mario/Ice Pick Joe: The only thing you care about is fucked up little guys.

#hmmmmm i feel like I've revealed that I think about Mario too much #YES I ship Mario/Ice Pick Joe I'm SORRY #YES THEY ONLY TALK ONCE IN THE ENTIRE MOVIE I AM VERY RUCKING AWARE #but did you watch it? did you SEE the awkward little way they introduced themselves in the ballroom scene??????????#like goncharov and katya and andrey are all out there having these big dramatic sweeping emotional moments #meanwhile mario and ice pick joe are just like #not even on the ballroom floor #pushed off to the side by the perceived importance of these influential people #(meanwhile they're both the actual driving forces of the film but don't get me started on that)#and they just have this #moment of connection #it's so fucking humanizing like goncharov treats mario more like a lackey than a person #and Ice pick joe is overshadowed by his own obsession with violence #but at the core of them theyre just. people. and when they look at eachother you can see that they understand that #GOD FUCK I'M FERAL #okay sorry for the tags essay #also fuck i forgot to put fandom tags first #oh well #goncharov #unreality

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