tnaotstuck

[tnaotstuck]

Announcement: Timeline Hiatus

Tnaotstuck is going on an overall hiatus. Plot will be paused for the time being. Individual blogs can continue or go on hiatus as well.

#amorteacolyte #abactortiro #psiiconiic #cultclassik #eidetic employee #diurnalizeandwomanize #8andits #blackandb100 #carnievore #waywardcommissioner

[tnaotstuck]

> Tavros: Wake up.

You do just that, but it feels more like coming out of a coma. You claw yourself out of your recuperacoon. There is a long moment of silence before you realize that you actually just had to claw your way out. You had been completely submerged inside of the structure for the first time in your life. The organic basin itself had swollen to a massive size, enough to actually accommodate your horns within it. Aside from the swelling, there is another strange translucent liquid mixed in with the sopor. The sight of it all makes you a bit nauseous.

As you attempt to pull yourself from the deformed tub, you strain to remember what happened. The last thing you recall was standing up inside your coon to go plug your phone in, followed by feeling light headed. Then, just nothing. You are weak and hungry, and attempting to remember anything is currently taking a back seat to figuring out how to get up. It is strange, actually, how difficult it is to climb out. You feel so weak and you almost can’t force yourself to stand.

You do manage to peak your head over the edge of the coon, eventually, squinting over to the nearest digital clock. Oh good, it was night time at least. You could get cleaned up and figure out what the hell even happened here. Before that comforts you though, you notice the date.

"What?…" Three days. You had been asleep for three days. That explains the weakness. If you had been sleeping for three days your muscles would have begun to atrophy, not just weakness from prolonged food and water deprivation. You do eventually manage to pull yourself from the coon, sliding down the side to rest on the floor a minute and think over how you currently feel.

Well, you feel gross, sick, and that date is scaring you to death. You need answers now, right now. You turn, grabbing the side of the coon to help yourself stand again, but you feel something thin and veiny brush along your back. It sends a shudder up and down your spine, and you swat at it.

"Oh god.” Bad idea. Your hands touch something wet and leathery clinging to your back, and you almost get sick right there. You do not even want to see whatever is stuck to your back right now. Your mind goes to that translucent liquid probably congealed on your skin. Showering first is probably the best idea, then you could look for answers.

You promptly walk to the bathroom, keeping a hand steady on the wall all the way. Once you were inside that shower you could just sit down and let the water run over you while you try to remember. You never make it, however, as you stop in front of your full body mirror just inside the bathroom. You look at the mirror confused, noticing that the translucent liquid does indeed seem to be clinging to your back, all the way down your legs. It looks repulsive and veiny and you just want it off of you right now. But that gross out panic is stopped when you notice something more disturbing.

You are bleeding. At least, you think you are bleeding. Your brown blood seems to be seeping out of an area on your upper back, traveling down those veins on the translucent surface. You must have gotten cut sometime in your sleep or something. Maybe that is what knocked you out. Your theories stop the moment the blood flow stops at the bottom of the partially solidified translucent structure as it starts to peel. It starts at you legs, popping off and snapping up.

You are pretty sure that everyone on your floor could hear you scream. You grab the corner of your sink to steady yourself as four insect wing-like appendages snap up from your back. They stiffen, beginning to vibrate the excess liquid from their surface. You bring your other hand up to muffle your screaming and heavy breathing, staring at the wings wide eyed. Your breath quickens and shallows as the wings emit a low hum to their vibrating rhythm. What happens after could be described as a panic attack lasting the time a pupating insect needs to dry their newly formed wings off.

Your name is Tavros Nitram and today you have discovered that you are a mutant. A doomed, outcasted, winged mutant.

#plot #tavros #blood #gore #insects #panic attack #i think these tags work

[tnaotstuck]

Mass blog update:

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[tnaotstuck]

Execution Day

His height is enough to be intimidating- but most people tower over you, so it’s not unusual or particularly scary to you. Your diminutive stature has most people feeling relaxed or powerful, at least until you speak. So it’s easy to maintain your stiff, determined stance in front of him. 

Even though you were really quite terrified- not of him, but of what he could do, what he was going to do. What was going to happen to you. And that sucked. Dying didn’t seem fun. 

His words break your facade, and you wince for a moment, before you cover your face with both your hands. You drag them down, your body shaking as you- giggle. You giggle uncontrollably, laughs sending trembles through your limbs. It was hysterical, the idea that you were going to die. At least the one doing it was chill enough.

"Good words. Still, it’d be nice to know who the one doing me in is. But I guess I am a criminal- I don’t get such niceties, huh? At least you’re straight forward."

You meet his gaze levelly, never wavering as you nod, only the slightest difficulty with the presence of his clubs. “Last words? Right. That is a thing.”

You stand up straight, moving away from him and towards the crowd. Walking forwards, you gaze out into the audience, scanning it briefly- you wondered if anyone you knew was here. Hopefully they weren’t too mad at you. 

You had an idea, way back when, about how you’d symbolize things. Most people knew what it meant, too. You slowly raise your right hand, touching it gently to your lips, then to your ear. After a moment, you finally move it to your forehead, before lowering it. We will talk. We will listen. We will consider. The words were clear.

You turn to go back to your fate, but not before mouthing silently at the audience. 

"I’m sorry."

Standing before the executioner again, you tilt your head slightly and nod.  ”Now.. Pawbout those last words.” Chuckling, you extend your hand for a shake, a benign smile parting your lips. 

"I’m Nepeta Leijon- it’s a pleasure to meet you. I wish we could have met under better circumstances."

Your voice cracks slightly, and you gulp before speaking again, softly, so only he could hear it. You didn’t know if your death would bother him- you doubted it, since this seemed to be a random hiring. But you didn’t want it weighing on anyone’s conscious, you’d done enough damage just by living.

"I furgive you fur what you’re gonna do."

#decapitation #neck trauma #gore #death #nepeta #gamzee

[tnaotstuck]

mydogisbiggerthanme.png

#nepeta #charas

[tnaotstuck]

in case someone was all to be asking on getting a picture of this motherfucker’s face.

:o)

#gamzee #charas

[tnaotstuck]

:o)

follow the timeline’s gamzee!!

[tnaotstuck]

Gamzee is taken!

name: sid preferred pronouns: they/them/their age: 18 about me: im a tiny queer baby with a love for literature and spooky stuff!! my biggest non-fandom interests include taxidermy, cryptozoology, and video games. i spend a lot of time drawing and watching a bunch of shows and movies. :0 (i also have an about page here!) desired character: gamzee makara writing sample: (i sent something to apple on skype earlier BUT i will copypaste it here in case i need to!)

Staying in one place for long isn’t your thing. You don’t even like to sit still for more than a minute or two. It just isn’t comfortable, and you don’t think you’d want to even if you could. You can’t, of course, but that’s not really the point. The point is that you’re on the move again, because there’s work to be done. There’s always work to be done. That’s how you like it. Most of the time (tonight included), you work alone. Whether you’re preaching or selling or doing any other of your numerous hobbies, it just suits you better. Moving’s easier when you’re on your own, anyway. No one to mess you up or slow you down. The night goes by like most do; you chat up some people, laugh a little, and coins trade hands easy. You’re persuasive when you need to be, but it’s easy, really. Just figure out who you’re dealing with and you can do whatever you need. Some people just need a few compliments, some big talk. Some are gullible— they’d buy a rock from you if you told them it could make them live forever. Some need more… convincing. Chatting someone up, making them laugh, showing them you’re a pretty relaxed guy— that’s easy enough. Terrifying someone and showing them how quickly you could break them in half if you wanted to? Just as easy, but much more fun. All it takes to get someone to listen, to buy, to keep quiet— is a little work. And you do love your job.

i hope this is ok!! if theres anything else you need for this or anything else i should do then lemme know!

Oh MAN, definitely accepted!!!

#apps #submission

[tnaotstuck]

We haven’t seen this place before! Have a map of one of the east side’s districts. Gagarin’s Reach is one of the oldest areas of Vostanye, a dense area that was once flourishing blueblooded castle town before the amalgamation of the capital into segregated districts. After this became part of the Low City, the castle was demolished—no sense in giving lowbloods any opportunities to defend themselves—and was eventually replaced with a legislacerator obelisk.

Because of the district’s history, many of the place names derive from Standard West Insular and Northern Continental Alternian place words, instead of from Eastern Alternian, despite the large population of native speakers of the latter. Nowhere is this more prominent than the name, a corruption of the title of an early blue-blooded explorer.

[tnaotstuck]

Time: Skip to next week.

#timeskip announcement #The much awaited and long demanded #modz

[tnaotstuck]

La torre de David.

#fengbei #worldbuilding

[tnaotstuck]

Fengbei Triad Headquarters Layout

No basement/underground access Floor 1: Street access (Fengbei Sq./Harmony Ave., Signless Row), mechanical, elevator access (floors 1–25) Floor 2: Street access (Revolution St.), mechanical, storage Floor 3: Grand foyer, V.I.P. guest suites, office and personal suite of Dragon Head of the Fengbei Triad Xuanwu Heshuo Floors 4–5: Guest rooms, triad officers’ suites and offices Floor 6: Triad’s personal hospital clinic (54 beds, typically reserved for officers and upper-level members) Floors 7–11: Business offices for normal triad members Floors 11–18: Personal residences for normal triad members Floor 19: Mechanical, triad armoury Floor 20: Fitness suite and shooting range Floor 21: Lobby for upper level Cizang Residences Floors 22–26: Suites and residences Floors 27–39: Residences Floor 40: Mechanical Floors 41–64: Unoccupied Floor 65: Skydeck (accessible by stairwell or by motorcycle ride) Floors 65–68: Unoccupied Floor 69: Shrine to the Signless Floors 70–78: Unoccupied

#worldbuilding #fengbei

[tnaotstuck]

Just so you know, the entire timeline has been deliberating on how big ambulances in Fengbei should be. The streets are tiny, so normal cars can’t pass through.

Solution? A fucking smartcar sized, popemobile doppelganger of an ambulance.

Fengbei is filled with smartcars.

#worldbuilding

[tnaotstuck]

Spotter: Spot.

Ever since that olive gal dropped off the briefcase what you are about to do has been growing on you. You thought that maybe traffic would slow down some after the bombing on the southside, but no. It’s still going. The people keep coming and going, in and out on either side with no end in sight. 

You have never really done anything like this before. Sure, you pointed people out to a ruthless crimelord, sure they probably got hurt or died. But it was never like this. You never killed anyone personally, or at least directly.

Then again you’ve never been threatened with death for not doing a job before either. Well, you have, but not by Vriska. For some reason being culled by her seemed significantly worse than by the Empire. Less clinical. You had heard about what she did to Galnak, after all. She made sure all of you did. The price for failure was high in these parts.

So stuck between two walls you really can’t do anything but roll the detonator between your hands, and wait. Every now and again you’d tap your binocugoggles and zoom on one of the tiny passerbys below to make sure they weren’t the target, and so far you had been remarkably lucky. 

Then you see something that makes your pumper suffer a palpitation. 

It was the targets. It took a few long seconds of watching them, but they matched up perfectly. You get a unbearable urge to just spew until everything currently residing inside your skin is on the outside, but unfortunately for you it never happens.

All you can do is wait in quiet horror as they get closer and closer to the blast radius. Desperately you wished they would just turn back, but they wouldn’t. No way this many lowbloods in one place could have that much luck.

When they finally get close enough you put on your ear protection, take off your goggles, and turn around and shut your eyes tightly. Briefly you consider muttering some halfhearted apology, but the fact that you were doing this anyway showed you weren’t worth forgiving.

So you push the button. 

#emetophobia / #plot

[tnaotstuck]

Hey look, it’s Fengbei.

[tnaotstuck]

Organization of the Fēngbēi Triad

山主 · 龍頭 (shānzhǔ · lóngtóu) Mountain Master · Dragon Head 易经数：四八九 · I Ching #: 489 Name: Unknown Alias: Xuanwu Heshuo (玄武鹤座, roughly meaning “towering crane”) Hemocaste: indigo Symbol: Grus (the crane) Age: Unknown (suspected to be in excess of 200 sweeps) À propos: Probably the most powerful triad leader on the north side of town, Xuanwu Heshuo is more than just the Fēngbēi Triad’s boss: she’s also an old-school fire-and-brimstone preacher affiliated tightly with the Augurs. Though she claims to be one of the original disciples of the Signless, it’s more likely that she was just a wiggler during his travels, and learned about his story through word-of-mouth at one of the many indigo tent revivals periodically dotting the countryside. Regardless of whether she was really there at the beginning, she is without a doubt one of the most respected theological minds within the organization, and many of the less experienced will defer to her judgment on religious matters. Above all, though, when she’s not strung out on marijuana trying to destress, Heshuo is a cunning and enterprising crime lord committed to keeping her organization afloat. 紅棍 (hónggùn) Red Pole 易经数：四二六 · I Ching #: 426 Name: Arkääs Polari Alias: Blue Pole, Big Blue Hemocaste: Teal Symbol: Ursa Minor (the bear) Age: 33 sweeps À propos: As the Fēngbēi Triad’s red pole, Arkääs Polari is above all an enforcer. He is in charge of the armoury for the triad, and as a result spends much of his time sitting on the stockpile with a group of guards on rotating watch, when he isn’t busting down doors himself. Probably the most notable feature about this guy is how unbelievably stacked he is. He has shoulders that are about as broad as most trolls are tall, probably, and he uses it to his advantage a tool of intimidation. Not the brightest guy, especially not for a tealblood, but he isn’t stupid either—no one in a triad can afford to be. His skill set, after all, is carefully tailored for the job that he has. 白紙扇 (báizhǐshān) White Paper Fan 易经数：四一五 · I Ching #: 415 Name: Surila Tarazu Alias: Wings Hemocaste: Rust Symbol: Aquila (the eagle) Age: 19 sweeps À propos: Though she’s nearing the end of her short rustblood lifespan, Tarazu has found a curious niche as the administrator and paper-pusher for Fēngbēi. She’s a former ace fighter pilot for the Imperial Fleet who deserted her post after being assigned to a suicide mission, and instead pulled an almost-as-risky catapult manoeuvre that involved using an Imperial Hiveship as a makeshift disposable mass relay (think Mass Effect), annihilating the entire squadron and propelling her back to Alternia. After smuggling herself back into Vostanye, she fell into the scofflaw community of Fēngbēi quickly, and with her new lease on life proved herself as a capable financier and businesswoman. Most people who reside in the complex will run into her or one of her lieutenants eventually when paying rent or utilities.

草鞋 (cǎoxié) Straw Sandal 易经数：四三二 · I Ching #: 432 Name: Tszwan Alopex Alias: Teez Hemocaste: Olive Symbol: Vulpecula (the fox) Age: 27 sweeps À propos: Alopex is the triad’s Straw Sandal, or liaison officer. Any time the triad wants to conduct business with an outside source, Alopex is the one they call on. Through she’s insanely lax when she’s off the job, when she’s called upon to do work she turns into a completely different person, getting deep into the trappings and the tradition and the ritual of the thing. Most people who meet her during work think she’s ridiculously uptight, but others who catch her on her time off wonder how the fuck she’s been trusted to make it from day to day, let alone the foreign relations of a crime syndicate.

Notable 49ers (normal members):

Ryouma Ippari: A former hitman for the Rust Quarter Syndicate, Ryouma got out of the game to open a ramen restaurant in Fēngbēi only to be sucked right back in after a mysterious incident of blackmail. After eleven sweeps of service to the Fēngbēi triad, he’s ended up with membership at 24 sweeps, and has cut back on his assassination duties for the most part since the troll who blackmailed him died. He’s old, especially for a rustblood, but you wouldn’t want to be on the wrong end of his sword. Or meat cleaver, for that matter.

Wyazui Koroni: He’s nicknamed “the magpie,” and it’s not for no reason: as Fēngbēi’s official fence, his operation has grown from a simple rooftop stand where he’d resell stolen items to an expansive ground-floor department store that contains almost everything imaginable. His sources have grown exponentially in turn, from sidestreet pickpocketing to wholesale, large-scale heists. Even the odd highblood-exclusive item or so appears on his shelves every once in a while, and everything’s for sale if the price is right.

Cizang Pluton: The landlord who sublets to a good thirty percent of the tenements in Fēngbēi. She’s on good terms with Tarazu, and serves as the stick to Tarazu’s carrot more often than not. Though she is very inflexible with payments, the balance between her and her superior makes the system work very smoothly.

#worldbuilding

[tnaotstuck]

I can't stop listening to this album and thinking about tnaotstuck. 

-Mollie