all-consuming-sea

[all-consuming-sea]

[all-consuming-sea]

The Lawn of Pests

"The frail thing calculated. Pondered, as pests do. He knew he'd die, but was it today or tomorrow, or the day after, as hard as that distant time was to imagine?"

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[...] It probably is a duck.

"The complete focus of a greater being like the ugly duckling was dangerous. Sometimes, it killed. Sometimes, it turned whoever disturbed her into a foul thing.

And sometimes, it did absolutely nothing at all."

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The Gastric Wars

"Everyone knew, from the lowest cadet to the highest general: Extinction was their just desserts. In a decade or two, the great filter known as “World Hunger” would swallow all. "

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Office Discordia: Zero-Player Tic-Tac-Toe Paradox

"They were just games. There's no solace within this odd kinship of forgotten entertainment, no special comfort. Maybe she was always just meant to be a mine-sweeper sort of person."

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Thyman Disease

To most, those who improve their psychic skills to the height of performance are people to be admired. Respected. Feared.

To doctors, those are new disease vectors.

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Yesterday, I dreamed that I was a seagull

"If you asked her this same question nowadays, you'd get shot. You shouldn't ask a pirate stupid questions.

Don't be stupid around Kavi "Meteor Shower" Malkry."

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Fixed a few posts. Only now I've realized that posting walls of text on tumblr is not the way to go and I'm a little embarassed lol. From now on every piece of writing will link to ao3.

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Electoral Cycle at Asphodel Town

"Whoever named the place Asphodel town is long gone, but the name stuck, and it’s one of the better watering holes and neutral grounds a pirate could pick. Better by far than the ones that’ll kill you on approach for being with the wrong faction, or seize your ship and sell you to slavers if you don’t give them a reason not to.

Too bad it only takes a single idiot to screw things up for everyone."

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Office Discordia: Or How A Single Speck of Sand is Somehow More Meaningless Than Other Specks of Sand at the Beach.

"She asks again if anyone actually, genuinely cares about her. He offers his condolences. Fuck."

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The Nightly Crawl of Nobody in Particular.

"I'm a friend of your mother." He says smugly, confidently. "Or the friend of a friend." He touches your shoulder, as his neck lowers and his head tilts, the better for him to see you. "So, in a way, we're already acquaintances, wouldn't you agree? No need for introductions."

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no more dante, only rocinante

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@living-dead-guyy

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The Rumbling

EAT MY FLESH, OR I'LL EAT YOURS.

As if there was a sudden impact, the ground shakes and dust lifts. Not quite for long enough to be an earthquake, for earthquakes were named, settled, and carved out from the whole, an eternal wound left in the heart of the demon beneath my feet. His reign was shattered, his wrath excised. The demon that swallowed everything I'd ever known had grown bitter since that.

Regardless, the hand of a child buried by the dirt was in front of me, unmoving. We named earthquakes, but this? This he could do without a hint of remorse. I'm forced to kneel as I touch that gentle, cold hand. She's dead. It could have been my sister that he merely decided to chew on, or some poor child from another family that he decided to eat. It didn't matter. The dragon called GROUND liked to play with his victims. He was a gaping hole, an immense mouth that loved to eat, but not to swallow. His pride was always in the little things that got stuck between his teeth. The things we made, or people like us, both destroyed but not consumed enough to be invisible to the eye. Powerless to do anything but weep at the tragedy, and breath in the dust that rises as he laughs.

The ground shakes once again, and bellows with the sound of collapsing caves.

EAT MY FLESH OR I'LL EAT YOURS.

I put my forehead on the ground as I hold the little hand, unsure what to do. Defenseless. In anguish, I meekly ask for the reason. Not that I expected to find any meaning behind his desire. Not that I expected any answer. This was all nothing but a game for the sovereign under everything. And yet, with a rumble, I see the answer.

The earth is disturbed, and thousand of holes gape open across the land. From the displaced mounds of dirt, slowly emerge soft and pink jelly-like beings without any expressions. One wouldn't notice, but I do out of instinct. Humans. Survivors. Worms. Those that are not eaten by him, eat him, and eat, and eat, and eat. His slaves. His parasites. Shackled to an eternal hunger. To live in dirt, to eat dirt, to shit dirt. Wet, dark, dirt: Forever. That, or… My grip hardens at the hand I hold. It's cold. It wasn't quick.

I LOVE YOU. I DESIRE YOU SO MUCH. The ground keeps shaking more and more, but never enough to be destructive. It is a sovereign, but it still can't break the rules of this world, the meaning we gave it. It can just swallow, for now. I WANT TO BE INSIDE YOU. AND I WANT, FOR YOU TO BE INSIDE ME. FOREVER. OUR MARRIAGE.

And the dirt starts moving around me, encircling me. I can feel the ground losing solidity, starting to sink. The pebbles trickling over my feet whisper my name.

I'M A LOVING KING, AND ALL MY CONSORTS ARE EQUAL UNDER MY REIGN. BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER. DIRT IS THICKER THAN BLOOD. WE'LL NEVER BE APART EVER AGAIN, NOT EVEN IN DEATH. The cloud of dust is becoming impossible to breath. He does not speak, but tremors course through my body, subtle as the whisper of a rat, monumental as a falling giant. His corrupted and immeasurable lust forces one to break, or to adapt. As if its fondness was a gruesome pressure that made us evolve. I start coughing. I know where this is going. There's no way out. The moment I stepped there, the moment I noticed the buried kid, it was too late. BUT IF YOU'RE UNABLE TO LOVE ME, I'LL TELL YOU OF MY DEEDS. I'VE EATEN KINGS, I'VE EATEN KINGDOMS, I'VE EATEN CONTINENTS, AND I'VE EATEN THIS WORLD. I'M THE ONE THAT EATS ALL. CONSUME FIRST, OR BE CONSUMED.

I close my eyes. I put my hands on the filthy ground, and I shovel his flesh to my mouth. I won't live, but at least I shall survive his grand and terrible love. This love is bitter. This love tastes horrible. Inedible.

IT IS AN ACQUIRED TASTE.

Today, I shall never starve again.

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Walk The Dinosaur

"After the nine-tailed came to his land, he was judged, defaced, and thrown to Blue Hell to rot at the age of five hundred. A fairly young death for the mirage. So would his scribes record his passing."

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First to go

"She sits close by the bed, watching me. Maybe she's too dumb to realize that I died and presumes that I'm just tired from work. That I had taken a long sleep, and I'll wake up soon."

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