blogofloathing

[blogofloathing]

DREW A REALLY GOOD FRIEND OF MINE <333 @blogofloathing

[blogofloathing]

Part 1 of 1, Edel E'Meyer And The Courts Favor

"I assure you I can handle this all by myself" Edel Erlenmeyer proliferated once more among them.

Even in their oft quietous, she could feel a hurtful doubt in the lot of them, really had she proved nothing to them, at the very least shown that her passion for the subject was greater than anyone's?

Standing behest an overwhelming numeration of blank faces, their cold indifference ran hot on her eyes, ironically beading up droplets of sweat

The room was lit up with harsh white bulbs, which served to shine disconcertingly on her pale skin, and similarly palid hair, allowing each flyaway strand to be disgustingly visible to all in the room,

In which she stood upright rather than sitting down, a stark contrast to the Faceless which had never been seen leaving their seats, she'd be wholly unfazed if they were bolted to the floor.

"concerning the.." a pause, "deaths of all pertinent" another pause, "personnel, we.." the group spoke not in unison, but finished one another's sentences as if having previously rehearsed the scene.

Each word chosen carefully, spoken with precise intonation, "find it.. unwise to continue.."

Seizing the silence that followed she extolled in a mock tone of remembrance "while yes the loss of both head scientists.." stopping for a beat as if to pay a momentary respects to the deceased.

"And in turn both subjects," murmuring ensued among them, each empty face conferring excitably, "however!" She cut in, to stifle the crowd.

"I believe I am perfectly able to continue their work, with the resources leftover" smacking the table she was standing at, it echoed iridly around the spacious hall, resembling a court room more than any proper meeting or office space.

As the quiet conference began again within the multitudes, "I'd like to draw your attention to the chalkboard, generously provided by the school"

Wheeling out a green board, covered in frantic nearly illegible scribbles, numbers and statistics, cartoonish drawings of strange creatures.

Every eye in the audience shifted dramatically to what was explained in white, "here we can see a catalogue of each specimen, while many were destroyed in the.. incident" she extended a pointer

"A good number also go unaccounted for," the discussion between peers seemed to be without end, and Edel didn't even bother attempting to hush their tones again, "while yes a good portion were reduced to unidentifiable puddles of mush"

Smiling under her breath, she had to smother the expressions of mirth as soon as it came, mustn't look too amused at the gorey prospect.

"Undoubtedly some escaped, where they are is a job for the jobbies," her use of such casual terms serving to bring harsh looks down on high.

Really what respect was deserved for those mooks, bumbling facsimiles, if she was successful in gaining her new position, they'd be the first to go..

Edel could sense a growing impatience, and so quickly moved on "but what specimens remain,"

Gesturing to a chart labeled 'contained' with 5 names listed underneath in neat lettering.

"Will be invaluable to my- our work here," alright Edel, give em the line now sink it.

"Imagine!" She shouted with a dramatic flourish, flipping the chalkboard to its back, showcasing a crude drawing of men holding guns "being able to create supersoldiers from nothing!"

Several raised eyebrows and jubilant looks sprang up within the audience at the idea.

Giving the board another spin, she brilliantly showed off a third side, depicting an equally amateur illustration of two men, labeled 'identical'

"replace people who know too much!" Different eyebrows raised, with different jubilant looks between the blanked faces abound.

Almost violently flipping to tbe next side of the board, wherein sat a shockingly detailed diagram of muscle groups and cutting techniques.

"And even fix the ongoing food crisi-" though she stopped herself as disgusted looks rained on her, running back to shelter, best not to overstep now.. clearly she'll have to bring it up another time

While her preamble experiments with cooking and consumption of cloned meat had proved promising, she wasn't surprised at their hesitance.

As far as she could tell, there were no adverse side effects to eating clones, even if it wasn't pretty. Something about wheezing flesh heaps didn't appeal to the general masses apparently.

By their standards at least, Edel herself couldn't imagine something more beautiful than the specimens, creating life and returning it to the earth through sacrifice, calories to calories.

Shaking her head like a dog to throw off these blissful fantasies, she continued with a cough.

"Ahem, anyway, I believe, with the information presented to you all today," looking at the space where an expression would be on anyone else.

It wasn't right to say they looked neutral, or uncaring, it was more like the canvas where a face should lay was replaced with a sharp nothingness.

One which she felt could cut her, while also phasing through, a haunting, confusing picture.

"You will find that it is not only worthwhile, but infact necessary! To continue this work, undoubtedly these prospects seem desirable do they not?" Her voice has somewhat of a sales mogle like quality to it, clearly pre rehearsed

There was a dead quiet, all seemed to be thinking

"Especially to you Bruise" Edel mused pointedly at the cluster she assumed belonged to him.

The concept of disposable machines of war had perked all their ears at attention, so easy to read.

In the way he couldn't quite separate each of them convincingly, where one picked up a pen, another held their hand uselessly in the air, and he couldn't quite get them to talk independently yet.

He thought it went unnoticed, but human behavior was her specialty, going hand in hand with cloning.

"We would rather you.. not refer to our-" the Bruise group began, followed by Terrence's.

"Sorry sorry," putting her hands up surrenderedly. "Really I don't see the point of using the Faceless"

Pointdexter's collection winged noticeably, it was evident they had been his idea,

Certainly she could see the appeal, puppets of flesh to project yourself through,

However this required careful removal of the afflicted's brain, and replacement of such with darkened imitations, a tedious process.

Which Edel presumed she could completely circumvent, creating life only to serve that purpose

While they wanted to alter a person to be serviant, she had the capabilities to engineer life,

tailor made to act in their interests, "in any case, I know you four can see the usefulness"

"And that's just the start of it" she decided to let the sentiment linger for a few moments

Before sealing the deal for good, "I could even take care of that.. pesky nephew issue"

She spoke in a tone almost as if it was an after thought, a footnote to her plans.

The middlemost gaggle of puppets plucked up almost comically, "as in.. Morris..?"

A cautious smile marking trails along their.. well,

Edel smirked deleteriously, teeth sharpened to points, they could almost draw blood speaking alone, with a silver tongue to lap it up.

"Our biggest problem indeed," grinning cheshire in the dim light, the effect compounded by the extra row of biters she had installed herself.

"With my technology, and your support" she had them all around her finger already,

"We can get everything we've ever wanted, with none to stand in the way" images of flesh, spires of bone and overwhelming heaps of organic matter, gorgeous monuments to rebirth, these tantalizing dreams filled her mind, drove her hand.

Living creatures of every kind, a world of life, of pulsing and moving, wriggling and changing.

Where everything would be the ideal, perfection, beings of mastered speciation, full adaptability.

Wherein extinction wasn't a possibility, wherein there was no such thing as death, only birth.

"And any who do, can be fixed, replaced, changed, I can even do the same for all of you, you don't have to rely on your meager components"

Her muscles contracted and hissed at the push of hydraulic systems within her very bones.

Spiders, she had learned it from, complex mechs. Much more efficient than human systems.

"Surely I live as evidence of my claims," she sang, swiveling around, her joints could go in all directions, backwards, forwards, upside down.

"No pain! Well," she snickered not unlike a clown, "at least not anymore, surgery makes one weary of course" rolling her shoulder exaggeratedly

The faceless shifted uncomfortably at her manic outburst, "I've already done so on myself, it's as easy as one simple procedure, I could do it right-"

"Stop, we've heard you out, and we will allow for Project Piebald to continue" a different voice spoke," rendering the center cluster hunched over at their desks as an unseen figure strode in.

Suited in black and with hair that seemed to cling to the air particles as they passed through.

"Ahh, little Margy" she grinned smugly, hands on her chin at the taller woman. Who did not reciprocate the flamboyant attitude presented.

"I've said not to call me that Auntie Edie" bristling at the nickname, her hair looked as though it corresponded to her mood. Growing sharp and pointed when angered, or annoyed by Edel.

"Aww but darling you'll always be my lil-" she cooed, a hand placed on Margaret's chin.

Tilted slightly upturned, she slapped her hand away, garnering surprised looks from the dark glassed men standing just behind her.

Who preformed a dramatically drawn out "oooo" at the apparently exciting drama unfolding.

"Are we all grade schoolers here?" She scolded harshly, eyes running jet black to mirror the gaze of her still animate compatriots in the stands.

"No ma'am-" "sorry-" "of cour-" "won't hap-" they all spoke over each other in a jumbled dog pile.

Literally stumbling in place, grabbing one another for balance and dragging the other down too.

Margaret sighed wearily, exasperated at the scene unfolding just behind her, "see what I mean?" Edel quirked with a hint of sarcasm, lending the darker haired woman to glower sharply at her again

"They're just lackies" yet apparently jobbies was too harsh? she grumbled the words just quiet enough they couldn't hear over their own kerfuffle

"But they get their work done" now Edel was starting to suspect she was lying on purpose.

In any case, sidestepping blatant flanderizing of these idiots, "hopefully mine can do it better"

They smiled at each other, something of their little rivalry amused and annoyed the pair in turn.

"Well I can expect to see you in my office," pausing for a moment to consider the now doubled over bodies juryside, "proper office" she finished.

Extending a hand towards her spunkier colleague, "this isn't final, but I agree to seeing some results"

She shook it confidently, as far as Edel was concerned she had won, set to do as she pleased

Margaret's handshake was firm, but not as strong as it could be, and she'd shaken a lot of hands.

"Happy to be working with you madam president" she replied in a mock tone of authority.

Giggling idly when her face fell at the impression, as Edel's internal systems catalogued and reproduced a model of Marg's fingerprint from the most momentary contact of a handshake

// well there you have it! Our first introduction to the beloved (to some) and the hated (to far more) Edel Erlenmeyer! I'm excited to write more about her and her strange motives, what could she be planning to do with the power she's asking for?

And to end things off we have a very very special happy birthday to send out for a "Gali's Girlfriend" hope you enjoyed this little birthday treat ^w^ !!

[blogofloathing]

Part 1 of 1, Rittle And The Train Towards Nowhere

The train rumbled along contentedly, gravel and steel beneath its feet paid no concerted mind.

Rocking him gently in his seat, voices carried by wind rapped on the glass, then were swept away

Rittle let out a sigh, he'd been on this train for as long as he could remember, the view outside never seemed to change, almost appearing to repeat, the same lazy set background drawn out.

Music was playing, he didn't know from where, or why, it didn't sound like anything he would know.

It carried an odd, strained sort of rhythm, one which spoke of the players trials and tribulations.

And in this, was just him, no one else ever got on, or off, where they would even be coming from, or leaving to, acted as little more than a wandering path for his bored thoughts to take.

The only way to tell the time being a clock on the wall, with far too many hands added onto it.

Indecipherable time wringing on, surely working on a different scale than hours or minutes.

Occasionally rattling with raucous hoof beats from the great iron beast enveloping Rittle.

There were no mirrors, but the dusty windows held some fraction of reflectiveness still.

Even marred by desert sand, scratched and cloudy beyond belief, it still had, something.

Inside he saw himself, and behind him, himself, and behind him.. himself, fractalized.

It was certainly an effect of the glass, refracted light rendering each iteration more distorted.

Recounting all these details did little to dampen his boredom, he had practically memorized everything in this train, from his many nighttime calls.

Slatternly seats looking even more run down than before, clearly bereft of all staff, and without any passengers how could you blame them.

The train grumbled along cantankerously, sand and stone crunching into glass underside it.

He couldn't even be sure track really lied below, none of the ports provided an adequate look.

Rittle nearly allowed himself to drift off, perhaps the ride would pass quickly in his sleep.

Before a sudden tapping on his shoulder, gave him a start to practically touch the ceiling.

The hand was resolute, calculated but nervous, it meant no harm with its gentle greeting.

All the same Rittle was on the defense, he'd reached to check his holster, but it was empty.

"Who's there?" He spoke, voice ringing clearly embarrassingly more afraid than intended.

Turning around to greet this unknown guest, "howdy I'm R-" ittle said, a mock chipperness in his voice, which was quickly stamped out upon seeing the mystery fellows face in the full light.

"oh! It's you!" He shouted expletively, yet the man continued his show of nonchalance.

Recognition bloomed in Rittles face, as he sat opposite him, adjusting glasses professionally.

"You're back again!" Rittle had met this person on some previous occasions, always on the train.

Always wearing the same odd getup, it didn't look like anything sold in Dirtwater, must be foreign.

"Hello Rittle, long time no see" he fettered, as if an old friend. "How've you been these days?"

Rittle considering for a moment, "eh yknow, just had to kill a buncha hellcows for a demon clown"

A short pause lingering a beat, before he went on "so nothin too out of the ordinary" the pair let out a laugh at the remark, "seems that way"

The stubble faced man smiled in a maladroit sort of manner, appearing to strain his facial muscles.

"Me and Doc actually just set up shop around where we think the necromancer might be, she thinks we're gettin real close to crackin it open!"

Aforementioned upturn of his lips faltering subtly, "she's real worried about me, I don't know why she's so untrusting, I mean cmon man"

Rittle complained, shoving the last bit across the table as if to say I can't be the wrong one right?

"I'm sure she just wants the best for ya" the older gentleman explained, "doesn't hurt to listen"

"Pshaw, you're probably right I just.. hate to see her fret over me" tone trailing off the last few words.

But he had already mentally brushed off any idea to the contrary, when you've come so far..

"Anyhow things are goin pretty well, I got a turnip plated silver just cause, I try goin with the flow"

This display of careless freedom brought a smirk to the wilted souls eyes, something of nostalgia.

He too felt something was familiar about him, but he just couldn't place it no matter how hard..

"Why do I keep seeing you?" He inquired, while the other simply looked out upon the dirty horizon.

It seemed he was content to gaze comfortably at whatever scenery must be visible only to him.

"Where.. do you come from?" Rittle asked again, as the bespectacled man sighed ungainly.

Taking off his glasses, to apparently clean them, though Rittle expected this was more so a fidget.

He pulled a handkerchief out, and carefully rubbed away any specks or smudges present.

Never slowing his pace until it was primely pristine

"I expect we come from the same town" he spoke, a slight tremble to the careful intonation.

It sounded as if each word had to be thought out, chosen and enunciated specifically.

"You're from Boring Springs! Heck I ain't never seen ya before, what's your name?

He hadn't thought good ol' BP was big enough for there to be someone he hadn't known

"I suppose so, I lived right near you, surprised we never properly met" a rye smile affixed by the corners of his lips, it looked uncomfortable.

"But why? And what is this place?" He sensed he was asking too many questions,

"I'm sorry, I can't say, why don't we just relax here" he implored, "for just a little bit.."

Rittle could tell there was something he didn't get, but the man wasn't interested in talking anymore.

The way in which he looked out the window, it was as if he searched for something in all that.

And to lose concentration for a moment, would mean losing it, and starting all over again.

Tumbleweeds fumbled past, dark birds flocked in the distance, all of which he couldn't make out

"What's so interestin' out there eh?" Rittle blurted out, unsure of when the right time would be.

The man seemed to ponder this question for quite some time, like he had to find the answer.

"I suppose.. something I've lost is out there" a tired soul muttered, gaze fixed into the glass.

Assuredly there must be multitudes within his reflection too, but he didn't bother questioning.

Rittle felt he had already bothered him enough, why don't they just rest there for a good while.

The sun didn't move from its spot, evidently a hard position to claim, at the very top, to be protected.

Rittles companion toyed around absentmindedly with a little device on his arm, it looked to be a pocket watch, yet fitted to the man's wrist .

Glancing back to the clock of course yielded no results, as with any other timepiece he suspected.

"The desert is beautiful isn't it" he quivered, to himself more than Rittle, "I wish we could see it like this" the concerning man's hands shook slightly.

Leg bouncing up and down to shake the table that sat middleman, "hey pal are you alright-"

As he gripped his own hand disciplinarily, stopping its tremors by force, "I'm, fine, thank you"

They look out in silence for some time, odd music in the distance growing louder by the minute.

"I'm sure you can hear it as well?" Hell he would be concerned if he couldn't hear that sound.

"Yes, I can hear it, it's oddly calming isn't it?" The man responded, looking nowhere in particular.

"They call that instrument a 'cello' Rittle" he taught, "it's sort of like a violin, but quite a hand bigger"

As it seemed to "reach" their car, it stopped being merely alien, but downright unpleasant to the ear.

Grinding in his ears like a roving band of those weird machines he saw out west, the rhythms wholly unholy, even to someone like Rittle who had only the most cursory experience with music.

The train screeched in time with the beat as it dragged igneous rock and molten glass in a smear

Suddenly coming to a complete halt, with a jolt that sent Rittle out of his seat and onto the floor.

Wherein the man's feet now stood, propping up his glasses before unceremoniously stepping over him

"Hey! Where are you going?" He shouted, the man's hand was on the train cabins door.

"I'm sorry, I have to go now.." trailing off, there was always more that he could have said.

"Wait! What do you mean? How are you getting off the train?" At which the man only frowned

"You know.." he hesitated, "I looked everywhere for you, I never stopped searching Rittle"

The melancholy held within these words so great it seemed absurd it didn't burst him at the seams

He was left speechless, what did any of this mean, just who on earth was this mysterious character.

But the curtains were already closing on act 1, please save all your questions for intermission.

As the handle turned, wriggling beams of light snuck through the crack, as if having been hard pressed against the steadfast barrier previously.

Neither man had the chance to speak again before, click, the channel changed, and he awoke with a violent start, sweat rolling down his face

Sat jerked up in the fetal position, a plastic swish of his hair rubbing against the canvas ceiling.

his partner Doc Alice rested fitfully next to him, the panicked shout making her roll over on her side.

"What.. what.." he muttered, grasping around his body frantically, as if trying to make sure his soul hadn't gotten off the train with that stranger.

It was still dark out, the moonlight did little to illuminate his query, looking down indifferently.

Rittle rubbed his forehead in an attempt to clear it of the fitful dream, wiping away a tear he hadn't noticed sprung uninvited from both eyes.

"Who.. was that?" Rittle questioned to no one in particular, though Alice did mumble idly in her sleep at his overly open muttering.

Breath heavy, vision blurred from stray tear streaks, he laid back down, resolutely closing tear filled eyes, lending comet trails down his cheeks.

Rittle didn't understand who that man was, but, he felt a sort of gut wrenching regret,

The feeling like he must've known him, for a long time, that time now having passed,

would the eluding figure appear in the next dream? But, even if he did, the tired old cowpoke figured he wouldn't be any more help than previously.

[blogofloathing]

Parts 1 of 1, Gillian B And The Unruly Interviewee

After a less than polished bus ride we arrived to the equally less than polished slums of Porkham,

I'd say it looked better in my day, except I wouldn't know, I grew up in a more respectable area.

Adjusting my trusty driving cap, spiffy bow tie, and affirming these good looks with my crew.

we set off, according to my media guy fishing is popular this time of year, so why not cash in?

Being careful to avoid nails and trash (human or otherwise) on our meandering way to the bridge,

wherein todays interviewee was apparently living.

In my opinion he should just get a job and maybe contribute to society? But that's not "kind" or "empathetic" according to my trusty cameramen.

Stepping into the clearing we see exactly what I had feared, I was hoping we had bad intel.

Yet lo and behold, a stubble ridden homeless sat adjacent to us, probably high out of his mind.

"Mm.. oh! Hey! Yall are here for the interview?" He shouted over to us, well, to say he raised his voice would be a lie, but that was certainly the intent.

Our cameras focused shakily on the dirty hobo we have unfortunately decided to question today.

My mic man stood just a bit too close, so that every word spoken slightly blasted the audio.

I'm sure someone can make it sound good later,

"we are go in 3, 2.." holding up one finger for the last call, before miming an inaudible "go".

And giving our cameras the signal to proceed, they ask him the first of many questions.

"Mm'well when you're fishing in sketchy spots ya gotta specialize" he mumbled, gesturing to the tackle box, though it's more of a tackle lunch box

The camera zooms in as he pulls out a wriggling gummy worm, sugar dusting its exterior.

Christ how on earth is that thing moving, "mm them gummy worms grow near rivers"

"Makes em self supplyin" he walks us through, as our whole team takes a step or two back.

"Mm I think somea them barbecue fellas put somethin in the water over there.."

Glancing over to the stream, which looked more like a pot of soup full of garbage than a river.

Maybe interviewing this gross hobo was a mistake. Certainly I'll be taking a bath after this,

But for the sake of journalism, we let him go on

"Makes so they're good for catchin them colorful fishies, f'miliar sight for em" indeed the worm was bedazzled in a rainbow of striped colors

Enough to make my head hurt just looking at it.

Though none of my crew has ever heard of any kinda rainbow fish, probably some new drug the homeless are taking, and we wonder why the city is trying to stamp out these kinds of people!

"Mm'infact I got onea them on my line right now,"

our cameraman panning quickly over to the hobos fishing pole, propped up against some rocks.

The line was limp for the time being, that is to say if it would ever actually be pulled by something other than garbage, (excluding the man himself.)

Christ thank god we're not live right now, we can have whatever-his-name-is edit that out later

"Mm, oh! An' here's some more from my stash" he pipes up with subdued surprise, a fuzzy worm covered in spines was crawling up his arm, "they're s'posed to be poisonous but I f'gure you let em do what they do, they go fine"

"These are good for catchin them walkin fishies, mm'paralyzes their muscles," he explained, flexing his fingers loosely before constricting them tightly

Then sighing with a noticeably disappointed tone, "people are way too hesitant 'bout fish legs, I tell em they're just like frog legs, but I guess they don't much like those neither.."

Personally I can't see a world where I or anyone on my team eats that, but of course let's remember they're not like you and me.

"ahh here's one'a my favorites," he grunts, pulling out a large bag full of sickly bright red worms.

"Onea them groups of chemical guys dyed some kids hair in the river and plumb contaminated this whole bag," shaking them in our face

And sure enough there could be faint spots of pink vaguely seen under the thick scarlet glaze.

"Mm'but whatever's in em makes the fishies go all crazy," he explains, shaking his hands wildly in the air to demonstrate this apparent frenzy.

"They dye your tongue red for a good while when ya eat em though, mm'sooo if that ain't your style I can't sell ya on em" placing it back down where it immediately stained the ground scarlet.

I'm forced at this point to give my team a glare of disapproval, some of them seeming far too genuinely interested in what this hobo had to say.

They look sheepish for a moment at my face, but then continue looking past me at him.

Really I don't see what use there is in listening to stuff like this, I'm only here for content.

"Mm'I don't know how I hook thesen's but I do an' they fetch pretty good" he mumbles tacitly.

Holding up what appeared to be a pile of loose integers in vaguely the shape of a squiggly line.

Wriggling and moving in a way that didn't account for any sort of connections or reason.

My whole team taken aback at once says "what on earth??" quietly in united confusion. Before then looking at each other in mirrored disbelief.

despite having no possible way to crawl the way it does, making a gentle journey along his arm.

Coming to a rest at his shoulder where he picks it up, somehow, "mm'I expect this's due to runoff from the math guys dumpin their old equations in the water" expecting us to understand any of that.

"But them educated fishies really love em, maybe they're tryna solve em or somethin" he says with a reverent little chuckle, though it's more of a cough.

The unsightly man continues excitedly showing us various worms, giving exaggerated and showy gestures for each presentation.

As if his hands are the actual ones being asked.

"Don't even get me started on them spider worms! Haha, mm'just kiddin, please do"

I'm positively sick with boredom but I have been forced by my team not to leave.

Until thankfully, salvation arrives at last when he appears to reach the end of his last show & tell.

Putting various worms(?) Back into containers, and a quick check to the continuously light line.

"Well thank yall kindly for- Vic! Vic get on over here I'm gonna be on the television!" He shouted suddenly, eyeing an unseen figure behind us.

My heart sank sickeningly, he was right about to bid us a good day, we were so damn close! And..

A possibly even dustier hobo, girl? Waltzes over to us, Jesus Christ it just keeps getting worse.

"Yo! Walt! You're famous eh? Gettin the big bucks?" the two laugh heartily, "see I told ya you're fishin would take off you old sot" she teased loudly.

They chit chat for a beat, with me continuing to shuffle backwards, much to my crews chagrin.

I'm silently begging my cameras to let me leave with my wallet intact before it catches sight of me

The urgent tugs at my boom operators sleeve going unnoticed save for a bemused look.

"Hey! Wanna ask me some stuff! Give me some free stuff?" She bursts into my world unwelcome.

Seemingly moved on from the dirty man, onto me.

For a moment I try to pretend as if not having noticed her, but fate did not hold the cards for me.

"Cmonnnn I know you're one of them big shots you got cash" her bushy eyebrows turned at an almost impossible angle, no wonder she looked mannish.

Signing didn't seem to work, as expected with the uneducated, but even my perfectly clear refusal to answer was left disregarded by this girl.

"Psh, figures you uppercrusts think you're too good to talk to me" she sneered derisively.

I tentatively waved to one of my crewman, whom seemed wholly preoccupied with the fisherman,

The shows over! What is there to talk about? My pleas yielded no results, I was fully on my own.

"What's with ya? You talk?" Her intense eyes bore holes into my own, attempting to take a look behind them in a quite uninvited intrusion.

Ugh these types are always so pushy, I swear I don't know why I agreed to do this.

As she pressed her face more closely to mine I could feel her gross, warm breath

Like the smog of a smokestack, clinging to my skin and hair in a sickeningly sticky way

"Hellooooo is anybody home Mr Rich?" Her words poked, knocking the glass of a terrarium to make me dance, managing only to startle me further

My discomfort is reaching its peak and I'm nearly made to give the emergency sign to my crew,

When the hobo girl reaches her hand out to touch me again, my skin prickling in irid anticipation.

And Inexplicable even to myself, a tear sparkled dully in my eyes, which were presently pressed together, as if I'd disappear if I couldn't see her.

This would surely be the end of my career, she would know.. I could feel everyone's eyes on me

And indeed the look on her face told me the gears were turning, some remnant of social awareness ticked around echoey in her hollow dome.

Gillian Barlows A Sissy surely what the headline would read, they'd be right, and that would be it.

These newspaper ghosts flapped hauntingly in my head like a flock of my worst anxieties.

Of circling vultures primed to take a strike at me any moment, the wilting journey of my egos end.

Before my cameraman, who must have finally noticed my situation, stepped between us.

Reforming the barrier I had been trying to keep hold of, that this girl had ripped it up.

"I'm sorry ma'am but you're gonna have to step back" a stern but not unkind order, his voice soothingly final, as if he was just stating the facts.

Equally putting to rest my growing discontent, "eh? Awww cmon you interviewed Wal-" she started, wildly gesturing In the other hobos direction.

"Ma'am we have a very concise schedule, and please refrain from touching our host." He retorted firmly, the rest of my crew standing nearby as well.

His hand nested on my shoulder as he said it

The lot of them were towers of men, acting as body guard and camera crew in unison

Pillars of my kingdom who kept the gates guarded

Standing (in no uncertain terms) a harsh contrast to my otherwise quite stubby figure.

We shared a quick look, his half smirk telling me don't worry, I've got you, as he continued the contentious chat with this random girl.

"Well- ugh fine! Take your chintzy camera cats somewhere else!" She expleted, giving our cameras a rude hand gesture before storming off.

"I'm too good for your lil TV shit anyway, hacks!"

Kicking a can into the lake that had been in her way, though I didn't hear the sound it made.

My ears were still plugged shut by the awful dripping fear that enveloped me at the ordeal,

I couldn't let someone see me like that, least of all someone like her, this was a mistake.

Breathing growing heavier, and knees weaker, the weight of this pressure primed to knock me over.

This is stupid, getting so worked up over someone like her, but despite all principles, the gnawing feeling in my gut was unwilling to accept reality.

I felt floaty and tingly, like I was on the brink of a faint, of losing my balance completely and falling..

Right into the strong arms of my cameraman, who had already set the camera down a ways away.

"Were you still rolling? Did you get it?" I whispered in a strained voice, almost inaudibly.

He shushed me, carrying me over to the rest of my crew, setting me down easy next to them.

I felt so comfortable being held by him, like he always knew exactly where he was going.

"Hey boss! We's were talking to the fisherman, and he gave us some fish on the house!"

My mic operator excitedly informed me, holding up a shockingly good looking salmon.

The man had been teaching us how to identify a real good salmon and well, there it is

Its tail fins were pronounced without being floppy, and the scales shone like glass or crystal.

My expression evidently spoke volumes how did he catch that "guess he had some right ideas"

Smirked my mic man, inviting an exaggerated eye roll from me, though I couldn't help but agree.

"Anywho! Let's get a move on Gill!" he sprang matter o factly, also springing me onto my feet.

"here G" my other cameraman said, his chill demeanor contrasting so that it made me giggle.

Waving to the whole crew, who all took me up into their arms in turn, lifting me almost effortlessly.

Linking together to create a proper seat for me to rest in, even if I did feel a little silly.

A mobile throne of sorts, to lead the charge.

"What say we all go for drinks?" My mic man suggested, looking around at the rest of us.

Who all nodded in approval "then let us go!" My cameraman said resolutely,

I signed a clumsy "but what about the interview?"

"we can edit the footage later" he spoke directly to me "let's go have some fun"

These affirmations, bringing back to life a smile, informing my unending confidence around them.

I didn't say anything, but I pointed forward in a mock gesture of commencement.

Each member of my crew pointing in turn, as I lead the group, captain at the helm.

Maybe they were right, I could use a bit of a wind down more often to cool the nerves.

As long as it means more time spent with these idiots, I could see.. some time off.

"To TV! To Drinks! To Gillian!!" The whole gaggle chanted, yelling my name with especial vigor.

[blogofloathing]

Gygan Clarks, Our Favorite Newspaper Manfailure!

[blogofloathing]

Victoria Martinez, The One And Only Hobo Gurl!

[blogofloathing]

Part 1 of 1, Sictoria And The Fourway Connection

"Oh are you fucking kidding me?" Victoria shouts again, the 5th time that night,

Simone snickered haughtily, dropping another blue disc to block the girls advance.

"Every single time!! Every single time!!" Grumbling under her breath as she slots in a red disc.

Staring explosively at her, with the expression of someone who had been losing all night.

"Ooh see now that.." she said in mock concern, "what!!!! What!!!! What is it!!" Victoria blasts back.

Wrenching another hearty laugh from Simone, in which she smoothly halts the poor girls attempt.

Blue meeting the red with a shallow click of plastic on plastic, you could almost feel the two sizzle.

And in turn Victorias own face burned red hot, veins were practically throbbing in her forehead.

"Settle down Victoria, it's not your fault you're bad at the game" she sniggered venomously.

"Oh you just wait I'm gonna fucking-" placing down a red disc with an over dramatic flourish.

And sitting proud, a painfully confident look on her sweaty face, "beat that Simmy!"

She held back her laughter, not wont to show off too hard, but enjoying the struggle of her friend.

Cheerily wiping the already quite tremulous look of joy on the girls face with a click

Blue disc sitting beside red, once again ending her advance, "you really have to pay-"

Simone began another snarky remark, before her opponent wordlessly placed down another disc.

Seemingly at a loss for words, she hadn't lost the anger, it still bubbled violently under her skin.

But something in her soul had been subdued by this repeated failure, "your turn" she wheezed.

A quiet reminder of who held the cards now, she had been too preoccupied giggling.

Placing down another blue disc, no obvious ways to block her, but she was confident.

By now the board was almost entirely full, they'd be at risk of a tie if one of them didn't win soon.

And to Simone, a tie is a win, anything but losing

"Your turn" Victoria muttered again, though, she thought it sounded different than before.

There was that beaten down inflection, except this time, it sounded more like a cover than..

"BAM! Take that!!" Victoria shouted, loud enough she was surprised the windows didn't rattle.

Ah well, it seems this is what she had been planning for, even Simone could admit she hadn't been able to see fully past her pretty poker face.

What she could see however, was the final move,

"Try to beat that you stupid-" the blue disc falling atop her red like a boulder to crush her flat.

The last piece in the game, the board was filled one hundred percent, the game was a tie.

Victoria sat there wide eyed, mouth agape in a silly expression Simone had to resist a giggle at.

It almost appeared as if she'd entered a catatonic state, pure shock spilling out from her.

"Hmm, well that makes.." Simone trailed off, adding a check mark next to her name.

On a big list (which had to be extended for her) detailing all the games she'd won,

And in turn Victoria had lost, you almost couldn't tell that she had any stake in the game when side by side with Simone's overwhelming lead.

"You ready for round 30?" She snorted, like to make any sudden movements would have the laugh burst out of her in an explosion of mirth.

Though her companion still sat frozen for quite some time, Simone momentarily considered checking on her, but as she opened her mouth-

"That's it!!" Victoria exclaimed, smacking the stupid thing off the table in a dramatic swipe.

Pieces of both colors scattered in the same piles across the floor, "ugh- HEY! Victoria! That is not-"

But the girl had already crawled away aggressively, without care for stepping on the fallen game.

She let her go without watching, waiting for the- "Uwagh!!" From Victoria, that would tell her she'd slipped over one of the newly strewn about pieces.

Where she laid motionless, not out of pain, though it did indeed hurt, but shame more than anything.

She gave a beat for her to recover from the shock, before smiling out a little "you alright?".

Victoria groaned muffled against the floor, "I, am, fine" the words punctuated exaggeratedly.

Like the floor itself was speaking rather than her.

Simone tried not to but couldn't push down the little snrk that escaped her nose.

"What, is, so, funny" even so she too had a twinge of humor in her wilted rebuttal.

"Nothing nothing" hands out in a gesture that said 'cool it pal' as she continued smirking slyly.

Victoria herself grinned stupidly, though quickly throwing that expression off when she sat up.

She wasn't gonna give her the satisfaction! Her knees winging sorely while she found balance.

Sitting up, much shorter than she had previously been, "well anyway that one was just a fluke-"

But her dusting off was interrupted by Simone bursting into laughter that sent her reeling.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she apologized as tears of laughter streamed down her face, like a dam of hilarity had just burst inside Simone.

"What is so funny to you??" Victoria yelled over the cacophony, before glancing over at the mirror adjacent to the two.

A large, black, and perfectly printed on tread track was smack on her face.

Telling of the path Simone's little machine took, now transposed on her.

Framing her face like a godawful stain that even a tattoo artist would be hesitant to put on someone.

"Ah-" she glanced back to the spot she'd laid, a perfect circular mark was inset on the previously uniform track, a chalk outline of the crime against her poor face.

And lastly glancing back to Simone, "I- oh my-" before the duo burst into a fit of laughter that lasted until they were both red in the face, doubled over giggling.

They tried desperately to regain their composure, still hacking out stray cackles,

Sitting side by side one another, their shoulders jumping raucously with laughter.

"So, your machine, left a tread mark-" "right on the ground!" Simone finished for her, giggling wildly.

"And I just so happened to-" the bespectacled girl fell over backwards from her seated position, the sheer absurdity of the situation knocking her flat.

Victoria joined her, the two snickering and trying in vain to resume normal conversation.

Looking up at the ceiling together, "well.." nearly each word punctuated by a strained chuckle.

"Despite you being a tryhard loser-" "I am not!" Simone refuted, once again cutting her off.

"This was all just a warm up! In fact I think I'm ready for another 30 rounds if you are!"

She retorted defiantly, "oh yeah?" She sat up, eyebrows raised in a 'there's no way' expression.

"Oh yeah! Let's fucking go!" Hopping to her feet intensely, effectively dragging Simone up with her.

"Well someone's gonna have to pick up all of the pieces they threw on the floor then hm?" She slithered mischievously, "I- oh right.."

Her at first fired up demeanor, now damp with reality, "do I really-" but Simone's eyes said it all.

"Go on then Victoria, get started!" She teased idly, with Victoria grumbling softly under her breath.

Part 1 of 1 END! Aw Wasn't That A Cute Little Game Huh? Seems They Both Have A Competitive Side!

[blogofloathing]

Part 1 of 1, Victoria And The Bespectacled Girl

"Got anything on your line?" Gesturing vaguely in Walter's direction with her back turned to him.

He paused, as if maybe Victoria had summoned a fish with her query, but the rod stayed slack.

"m'nope, maybe they're gone fishin'" he coughed, letting out a joke so dad she didn't even bother with a lighthearted sigh in admonishment.

And in any case her lungs were busy working, as she dug through another large hill of refuse,

Bottles and wrappers, shopping carts, broken glass and jagged metal, but still no food.

These dubious materials clinging to each other with whatever weird algae grew in these parts.

For a moment she thought she felt something, but one again it was snatched back by whatever spirit had brought it out to her in the first place.

And finally she wrenched herself free of the garbage heap, sat dam to the river, her only findings were a new set of scrapes along her arms.

An unpleasant risk when scavenging, though she found the scratching to be oddly satisfying

"Walt I'm tellin' ya these fish ain't bite these days!"

Her companion giving a strained sort of chuckle, something between tobacco and weed.

It was a wonder you couldn't see clouds billow out when he spoke, to obscure his patchy stubble.

"Mm, maybe we need to pick a new spot.." the words themselves glancing around the little hovel,

Recollecting her favorite graffiti or nastiest gash.

She paced around idly, shoes providing less than comfort with soles long since worn out.

This had been their spot, finding a pile of trash comfortable enough to sleep on took time!

But she couldn't deny that if the fish had run dry, and not due to being cooked, something would have to change soon,

"I'm cool with whatever though" Walter added, a disclaimer just incase his plan didn't work out.

Victoria stood thinking for some time, it's not like she had much to move,

She could count her possessions on one hand, half of which accounted for the clothes on her back.

The rest summing up to Walter's various bags of supposed bait—and though she questioned the quality of his selection—it had worked until now.

She allowed those fish one last rain check before Bus Victoria would depart.. and..

"Urgg okay! Let's go!" Her exclamation a symbolic and literal stomping of her foot.

Walter's face maintained a neutral, calm smile, as she began marching around.

"m'all I've got's my fisher pole, so just let me know" Walter mumbled, taking a debatably deserved rest.

Back flat against the bridges support beam, it was so old she wondered if he would collapse it.

The whole setting was a minefield of rusty metal and discarded items tossed over the railing.

Which lended well to the hobo lifestyle, someone's always too full to finish their food, and equally too lazy to seek out a trashcan.

And when that didn't work, Walter knew his way around the fishing pole.

This is how the pair had subsisted until new government regulations swooped in to sever this lifeline, making it illegal to actually fish in the river.

Signs were pegged all around warning passersby that to catch anything here was punishable by law

Including those same signs, sitting in piles nearby. Transformed into yet another nameless trash pile.

She set her hands together and closed her eyes,

"Please let there be food soon" both to herself and any god watching, a quiet prayer, just incase

Maybe some divine inspiration would come down and show her how to fix her life somehow,

Victoria had let herself become comfortable here, stupidly, of course this was unsustainable.

She just didn't think it would have to end so soon, despite all evidence, she had remained optimistic.

What if their next spot was flat too, or one of them got sick? Either would be a death sentence

These worries and tragedies-to-come swirled in her head, a violent rapid of her own making.

Rendering her mute in this airless terrarium.

She wordlessly "packed" her things, sure that Walter had said something—probably another stupid joke—but even the river din was inaudible

It felt like her life had all been building up to one big explosion, with her at its centerpoint,

An auto pilot careening herself right towards the nearest mountain, "god this sucks"

Said to no one in particular, but all the same Walter wilted back "amen to that sister"

The two of them giving a limply disconnected fist bump, an unspoken friendship with the air.

Though even if they had touched, Victoria knew she was far too insulated to enjoy his warmth.

She wandered around the small bit of land they called home, trying to take everything in

To grab every piece of herself she'd strewn about in her short time here, it was all so scattered

Like every night here had taken another minuscule of herself and plastered it onto the concrete,

Victoria almost wanted to resent this place, for coddling her, allowing her a short rest.

Like the bridge itself had deceived her, but all the same she knew it was her fault in the end.

Once again standing still in the eye of her storm, surely she was used to this by now right?

She hadn't even noticed her pace halt, as if these lingering thoughts had slowed her to a stop

The careful drag of the wind against her hulking fears and great unknowable anxieties.

Maybe this was how it was supposed to be, she'd been homeless almost as long as she'd been.

Maybe it was just the way the world worked, the losers lose, and the people up top throw their trash down on them. Out of sight out of mind.

This contemplation carried her right back into pacing, a dead man's trot, rendering her oblivious to anything around her but the weight in her heart.

Oblivious enough apparently, that she didn't see the large tread-wheeled machine in her way.

Despite its whirring and raggling, she only took notice of it when her feet had met its path.

But rather than courteously stepping to the side, it continued on, pulling dust and sand up in the air.

And out of her; an embarrassing cry of surprise, as she stumbled head over heels onto the ground.

Landing unceremoniously in a heap, adding a new scar to her already bled through knees.

She found herself staring at a pair of greasy boots, evidently belonging to the owner of the device.

"Youch! Hey watch where you're goin with that thing eh?" She clattered, rubbing her head.

As she sat up and muttered unheard profanities, sitting crossly criss cross, sans apple sauce.

"Me watch where I'm going? You almost ruined my school project being so careless!" The palid toned girl spat back, this was gonna be fun.

A sly grin gravitated onto Victorias face, "oh ho you one of them S.I.T smarty pants' huh?"

She sneered down her nose at her, despite being generally shorter on even footing.

"Yes infact I am one of 'them S.I.T smarty pants" she spoke venomously, mocking Victorias accent

"Are ya now? Well I just could never tell by ya four eyes and little gizmo here" pointedly eyeing both.

Her dark hair seemed to frizz up at the remark as if itself had felt offended on her behalf,

With a quickly reddening face and equally faltering temper she grumbled "well at least I'm educated"

"And you know I ain't? Psh, figures for an upper crust like yourself" the retort acting like a push to the chest, an overzealous verbal challenge.

Both now standing straight, Victoria looked down

"Do you even know who I am? I-" this remark pushed aside by Victorias "ohh you're one of those types huh? Well sorry missy I haven't heard of you"

Seems lucky I haven't, thought Victoria, of course some preppy trust fund kid is who she'd run into on her proverbial eviction day, "and I don't want to"

The still yet to be named girl seemed fit to burst with unpleasantries, "I'm Simone Chekhov! of the S.I.T Robotechtronics department!"

This smattering of accolades fell from her like it had been sitting right on the edge from the start.

"I've received several letters from several colleges even more prestigious but I've refused all of them because I take this field very seriously and S.I.T is the only college with a proper robotechtronics department that allows me to do what I need to do because I'm already higher level than my teachers and I'm involved in every single robotics club and related groups studying how to-"

She continued for quite a bit, Victoria had mentally tuned her out around halfway through,

A manic fire had lit in her eyes, as if she hadn't just been trying to one up this dirty hobo

At parts her expression fittingly incredulous, a fury at being questioned on her credentials,

But equally adopting a strange sort of excitement, Victoria sensed she didn't get to say all this often.

"And that's not even the half of it!" She finished, panting like her monologue had run a marathon

Victoria was partially stunned at the conclusion, just who was this girl? She wondered, even after hearing what was effectively her life story.

She glanced back at Walter for support, but all he provided was a shallow sort of thumbs up.

"I didn't understand a word of that, but congrats to ya, I'm sure your science friends love it"

A dismissive little remark, that seemed to thunk on impact with Simone, like hitting a wall

"Yeah, they do" short and snappy, a little too quick of a response, something in it trembled

"I'm sure they do.. Simmy?" Victoria said, though she remembered her name quite clearly.

"It's, Simone, thank you" something had shifted in her tone, while it hadn't been haughty before..

It was certainly more subdued, "struck a nerve eh? Figure your dorm feelin empty?" She slithered

"That's none of your bui-" a scarlet sheen leaking back into her face, gosh was she a cute one.

Victoria eyed her up and down, her hair black and glossy, strung up in two pigtails.

Giving off the effect of a disappointed rabbit with the pair tucked behind her ears.

With an oversized pair of nerd goggles sat atop like a pair of rings for a wedding.

"Look you're a real sweetheart I'm sure but me an' my pal over there-" pointing backwards to Walter in the complete wrong direction.

"Need to go find our next fishin spot-" but before Victoria could finish her exit,

Simone cut her off with a pippy sort of ahem, "you do know fishing in the lake is-"

"Illegal yeah and unless you have a machine that grows fish, you can shove it"

Simone looked a bit shocked at the expression on her face, but hit back with.

"Well if you knew anything about robotechtronics you'd know that's not how it works!"

"Well I don't need to know a thing about it because it's not a field worth pursuing!"

The two let out a growl of frustration, moving closer, their words circling each other like lions.

"At least I'm not living under a bridge!"

"Well la dee da misses richy rich here!"

"I'll have you know I worked hard to get into this college! Something you clearly wouldn't get!"

"Oh it's real easy to get, you put together a few nuts and bolts and now you're a fuckin genius!"

Simone had an almost hilarious expression of indignation, as if she wouldn't be able to stand this stupid girl a second longer.

Victoria snarled each biting remark like a beast at the bedside of a dying animal, eager to hunt for this entertainingly easy prey.

With each advance of their argument the deep maroon shuttering their faces flooded in.

The pairs fists clenched as if to strike, but using only their words, flames licking at their skin

"ugh!! You are impossible! I don't even know why I'm still standing here arguing with you!"

She shouted, the angry expletive echoing around the cavernous space where they stood.

"Then why are you still standing here dumbass! We need to find a new place before it gets-"

A well of emotions that had been prime to rupture the entire time finally exploded inside her,

Even her freckled ears turned a dark shade of red, staining every part of her pale skin.

"Do you wanna sleep in my dorm?!" Less of a question, and more so a screamed exclamation.

Suddenly the mood had seemed to shift, but not in too drastically different a manner.

This was the last thing Victoria would've expected, it caught her so off guard she nearly fell again

"W-What? You want me to-" but the shorter girl had already started dragging her alongside.

"Let's just go! You look like shit anyway, and smell as much too!" Though this seemed unrelated.

"Well why don't we go then? We don't need you stinking up the place anymore" Victoria hissed.

"You're the one with stink lines coming off you!" Following up with "not to mention that hair"

Practically spitting in the bespectacled girls face, "fuckin nerd I can't believe I'm gonna go see your stupid ivory tower" rolling her eyes exaggeratedly.

"It's not like you're moving in, idiot!" She blistered hotly, "I'm bending the rules enough bringing a girl like you into this school.." Simone grumbled further

"Well thank you soooo much I'm sure it'll be very hard for you" Victoria drawled sarcastically

"Yeah it will be actually thank you very much!" A delightful fury painting her round face.

The two bickered all the way to her campus, their faces a moment apart at every step.

Their loud shouting battle soon replaced once more with the sound of the rushing river,

While Walter contentedly watched them walk off, good for Victoria, he thought, mildly amused.

He reached for another wriggling fuzzy worm, and skewered it expertly onto the aged old rusty hook.

And with a hefty swing.. he slung the line back out.

Part 1 of 1 END! What A Delightful Start To A Surely Long Lasting Friendship, Walter Was There Too!

[blogofloathing]

Part 1 of 1, Simone And Bathing A Dirty Dirty Dog

"Okay and you're gonna sit still right?" Simone warned Victoria venomously, "cause if I have to waste another afternoon on this.. I'm gonna lose it"

Clearly strung at the end of her rope, the dusty girl was determined to push her off just a bit further.

Victoria giggled, and promised she'd be good in that sarcastically sincere tone she always used.

Narrowly avoiding another caustic remark thrown straight at her head by the bespectacled girl.

"It's hard enough to get you to change your outfit! I'm surprised you've even got skin under there!"

She shouted from the depths of one of her closets.

She had finally managed to corrale the unhelpful girl into showering, which was shockingly hard.

You'd think Victoria was allergic to water the way she had to effectively manipulate her in there.

But with a little food, and some coaxing, she had lead her right into the proverbial lions den.

"Heartless is what you are! Removin my natural perfume," she objected mildly, "natural repellant more like.." Simone grumbled in a quiet response.

Piling together various bottles and brushes, still unable to understand exactly how her mat worked.

This wasn't the first and it certainly wouldn't be the last foray she'd take into the proverbial jungle.

The tub had been filled before she arrived, now lukewarm and filled with bubbles at her request.

Making small vagueities of islands and mountains.

Personally Simone thought bubble baths were a waste of resources, but whatever, Victoria liked it.

The smell of soap wafted subtly into the room, seeming to stain the pairs skin an unseen rainbow

"Get in there and I'll meet you with my supplies" she ordered the furball of a girl, to which she bloomed a vindictive smirk "awww sure you ain't lookin to watch hm?" Teased Victoria.

Causing her face to flood scarlet, and her oft well put together demeanor falter "I- er- UGH just go!" She stumbled, turning away aggressively.

It was so easy to send her bleating like a little goat with just a few correctly placed words.

Simone breathing somewhat heavier than usual as she recovered blearily from the attack

"aight, well the doors open" Victoria flicked with a wink, sticking in the wall next to her head

"Shut up.." she mumbled, her eyebrows firmly formed into a displeased, yet brittle look.

While her flirtatious companion whistled a jaunty tune, making her way over to the bath.

Victoria stepped into the shockingly clean bathroom, in contrast to the workshop, which wouldn't have been out of place in a wasteland.

The bath beckoned to her, warm and inviting, a symbol of cleanliness she wasn't accustomed to.

It seemed to desire nothing more than to strip the garnish off of her greasy, bumped skin.

Hesitating for a moment to confirm Simone was still rummaging around for shampoo (whatever that was) the lock on the door clicked

She reached down and carefully pulled off her crusty shirt, having been orange at one point, but crossed with a myriad of acquired stains overtime.

It wasn't often she got the chance to bathe, so it was almost surprising to see skin under the cloth.

A layer of dirt seperated her freckled skin from the surrounding air, an invisible sheen of filth.

The spots dotted her whole body, congregating in speciality along her shoulders and face.

Simone told her she thought freckles were pretty once, so she noticed them pointedly everytime she saw her reflection, little reminders.

As if each one had Simone's toxically adorable lil face peeking out from the darkness.

Victoria sighed faintly, a small shake to the exhale, now this was her least favorite part..

The lights themselves seemed to dim with her mood, sputtering out pathetically.

Simone felt miles away, the sounds of her shoes and the click of her many belts.

Were almost entirely inaudible, like so many lost ambient sounds by the river.

She unclipped her horribly faded, ill fitting bra, and tossed it on the floor, gazing deeply into the mirror.

Really examining herself, searching details and flaws, looking for satisfaction with her appearance

"Are you happy with this?" Asked softly, to her own reflection, hoping she at least would have answers.

The words bounced off, rebounding to smack her in the face, she already knew the answer.

Victoria certainly looked the part, but would she be cast in this role, were it up to anyone else?

Her body seemed to look back in toe, what if she felt different later.. she'd already changed so much

Surely that's what was normal, but it didn't feel normal being a.. she didn't want to think it.

Steam partially obscured her form, but it couldn't hide her flat figure, where clothes could.

The void where her real chest should be, where it never was everytime she had to look.

It mocked her with a sneer, as if what was once present had been stolen, gone without a trace..

When she stopped distracting from her body, when the lights were hot and shining straight on it

Every inch of her skin felt like it didn't belong, the contradictions grafted on permanently.

She hated the way her shoulders stuck out in a wide strait, the way her personality, her real self, and her physical form, stood in contest.

But most of all she hated deceiving Simone, lying to her everyday with her very existence.

Would she be disappointed.. or worse, despise her for the one thing she couldn't control.

Her breath quickened, fuck why did she agree to this, crossing her arms to cover up her body.

Without even realizing it, tears had sprung from her eyes, making a mad dash down her face.

Hastily wiping them away, she couldn't let her see,

This wasn't a time for gettin all emotional, she chuckled softly to herself, it spoke of no mirth

A laugh out of necessity, like so many of hers..

Knocking at the door suddenly shattered whatever glassy shell had formed around her, "Victoria?"

That voice of concern, crossed with stern worry, "Is everything okay?" Evidently she hadn't been as quiet as it seemed, "o-oh I'm fine Simmy it's nothin" spoken with a croak that told the truth.

A silence from the other side, "okay.. well, hurry up in there we should get started" but it was less of a scold, the inflection in her snappy voice quieter.

For a moment Victoria wanted to stop her, to pull her into the room and tell her everything,

Explain all the things that tempested violently within her soul, but she didn't say a word.

The door creeked, and squeaked, and slowly, the door shut, once again separating Victoria from the rest of the world, and more direly, from Simone

Soft footsteps traced the path away from the door, and Victoria sighed again, sniffing loudly in the way you can only do after having just cried.

Simone was right, carefully unbuttoning the rusty clasp on her jeans, all of which was caked in a healthy amount of mud and miscellaneous fluids.

She couldn't even remember where half of them had come from, more holes than fabric.

Sliding them down like so much unneeded heft, she didn't want to visualize what her lower half looked like, it was better to not even imagine.

An aliens infection tying her down, keeping her from being beautiful, as if she ever could be.

This thought stuck hard and cruel in her mind, a harsh truth that she wasn't.. who she wanted to be

Even supposing with all the correct pieces, she conceded to the reality that even then, she'd be a mud fence. A plain Jane, and worse, a beast.

A cognitive dissonance between how she felt, and how she existed, a splintering of her self.

she tries not to think about it. To imagine that underneath these rags, she really was..

But when it's staring right at her, it's all she can do.

And.. Simone was waiting on her, so she had no choice but to get over it for now, like always.

She finally finished undressing, refusing to resume eye contact with the mirror at all costs.

Dipping a toe in the water, she expected it to be hot, and was almost shocked by the lukewarmity

Slowly sinking into a sea, invisible fishes nipping at the lingering dead anxiety that clung to her.

Simone's chrome tub reached just about her midriff, obscuring enough to be comfortable.

She sat facing away from the door, to avoid any embarrassment on the shorter girls end.

And speaking of which, hidden behind a mound of various conditioners and detangler sprays.

Stumbled in said shorter girl, setting the heap down with a thwum lile it weighed a ton.

"Your hair is entirely incomprehensible so I decided to make my own mix," Victoria giggled idly at her companions unabashed geekiness infront of her.

Setting down a stool by the tub, Simone cracked her knuckles like her hair was a new project.

"Let's see what I'm workin with here" digging her previously ungloved hand into Victoria's hair.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd taken a proper bathe, and no falling in the lake did not count, as pointed out angrily by Simone.

It was rather calming to sit back, soaking into the soothing water while her friend went to work.

You would think the often violent tugging of her hair would bother her, but pain was pain

Plenty worse could be found when dealing with pieces of scrap metal floating in a stream.

"Girl I didn't think hair even grew this thick" she remarked, in genuine astonishment.

"I'm tellin ya you could sell this for wigs" Victoria snickered again, "hey maybe if it don't fall out first"

Simone looked down at the brush (she had already broken one in the time it took to type that last bit)

It was positively filled with locks of brown reddish hair, yet despite this her volume never wavered.

Maybe she should be doing her next science fair project on her, "for what it's worth it's real pretty"

She said, and Victoria could tell without even looking back that she was averting her gaze.

That deep maroon creeping its way back in.

"Awww well gosh ya are sweet ain'tcha" smiling and replying to herself "and for what it's worth you're real pretty yourself" waiting for the-

Squeak that escaped Simone's lips, uncontrollable and deeply amusing to Victoria, stammering for words "er- I- uh- I was talking about your hair dummy! not you in general! it's just a compliment girls say to each other! I wasn't hitting on-"

But here too she squeaked, it seemed once she started she couldn't stop, hitting another rock in the path and face planting in that adorable way.

Continuously gasping for the right answer she didn't notice Victoria turn around to face her,

And still she didn't stop, totally consumed by her own overblown flustered bashfulness.

Victoria examined her face, scanned for any details she could've possibly missed on any previous look

The way her eyebrows upturned when she was nervous or felt out of place, the specific color that filled her face whenever she caught herself saying something flirtatious, or hit with one from Victoria

How she seemed to talk out of the side of her mouth, how her few freckles sparkled in the light.

It was something she didn't always appreciate, and had never verbally expressed, but maybe, she'd..

As a few lone bubbles disconnected from their colonies, floating along the wind like fireflies .

Catching the stray light and fractaling it out into a rainbow, trapped personally in this room for them.

The, now far less dusty, girl leaned in slowly.. the air seeming much thicker than it had just before..

And planted a kiss on the silly girls cheek, one that didn't leave a mark, but which both could clearly tell where it was left without having to look.

The impact of which was nearly enough to send Simone rocketing back several feet..

Neither of the two spoke for what could've been a few seconds or the rest of their lives.

For a horrible second Victoria considered apologizing for the action and hastily taking it back

Her heart sinking sickeningly, the prospect of this being what ended things played out before her.

She herself wrapping up in a silent cocoon of unspoken feelings, unable to find an easy way out.

Just as Simone ripped through her miasma of fear, with a reciprocated kiss dabbed on her cheek.

Both of them caught in deers headlights, staring at each other, before bursting into laughter.

A fit of mirth that splashed the water in the tub and clanged the many instruments Simone held.

Wirh stupid grins plastered to match it on both their faces, gosh were they both a little silly.

"You know you're real adorable when you're off stammerin like an idiot" nudged Victoria,

Elbows on the edge of the tub, "tch, you were the one bein all lovey dovey!" Retorted Simone

"Really I'm surprised I could even stand after, with your breath" she hissed back in a vipers strike

grinning like a moron "well you just got some on ya, so might wanna wipe your mouth off Simmy"

A musical little trill to her remark, "bah, well in any case we still need to finish.. all of this"

Lifting up and letting Victorias overly thick hair smack against the rim of the tub wetly.

"Not my fault ya take forever slowpoke" she shot back, narrowly dodging with "if you took even the slightest care of your hair we wouldn't be here!"

"Well chop chop we ain't got all day hm" To which she received a hard *THWAP* square to the head.

With the sound it made it was a wonder she had the ability to string words together as it was.

"Ah! Oww hey warn a girl first eh?" Simone spun Victoria back around wordlessly,

And she went to work, occasionally cutting where the hair was far too matted to save.

With the two avidly bickering, bantering back and forth over the sound of comb on hair.

"I think you're beautiful yknow" Simone said, in a quiet tone, like she was telling a secret

Not pausing in her brushing and herding of the unruly hair, seemingly resistant to grooming.

Victoria didn't say anything for a little while, letting the moment hang, as if scared of popping it.

"I know" she said, heralding a front of nonchalance that had always been firm and unwavering.

The pair were silent, reveling in the now passed moments, their hearts racketing in their ears.

Part 1 of 1 END! Now Wasn't That Cute! Seems The Two Idiots Don't Hate Each Other That Much Haha

[blogofloathing]

Part 1 of 1! Victoria And The Simone's Monster

"Ahh cmon Victoria just looooook" Simone urged the less than ecstatic girl, "okay okay I'm lookin"

She said exasperated, but her smile always gave it away. "This time it'll really really work just look"

Sidling over to the overzealous machine that sat as the grand centered piece of her workshop,

Victoria couldn't help but notice how good she looked in her work clothes as she walked away.

A belt of tools around her filled out waistline, over sized gloves and boots hatting her appendages.

All black and adjoined fittingly by a leather apron.

To call them work clothes was almost to lie, as she wore them most of the time, though of course, she was most often found working in her shop.

And she had to agree with her own lingering gaze, Simone sure looked good in black.

"Safety first!" Simone said cheesily, clicking on her goggles she'd designed to fit over glasses.

And pulling a lever dramatically, a blaze in her eyes not unlike one she had seen in them before.

Even Victoria could feel the fire licking at her face.

Various gears and raggling bolts spun with the release of whatever mechanism the lever held.

A machine pulled straight from an era long forgotten, a mechanical rodeo bull of all things

Large and limbless, it looked to weigh over a thousand pounds, and smelled quite ill too.

To top off the less than pleasing image, something that must be a replica cow skull was affixed to the neck, as if she was attempting to truly revive it.

It was in undoubtedly bad shape, but whatever technowizardry Simone had pulled off seemed to have worked, as the oversized beast came to life.

Shaking wildly back and forth, bucking off a non existent rider, or maybe displaying gracefully in hopes of attracting some cowpoke to test it.

As the voltage increased it stopped dancing the fleas off it, and began thrashing violently.

Shuddering and creaking against its own metal pieces, a whine like the moo of a hellcow.

And.. that's all it did, Victoria seemed to have been waiting for something else to happen.

Meanwhile Simone looked back at her expectantly, as if she would soon burst into praise.

"Well it's certainly very loud!" She said to Simone, having to shout over the clanging beast.

"So is that it?" Clearly not as impressed as she had hoped, the glossy haired gal hopped off the small platform she stood on, disengaging the lever.

The smoldering horror finally coming to a full stop, the metal still whining hauntingly as it slowed.

"Wasn't that absolutely incredible??" Spoken with a manic tinge to her voice, as if she'd been working on it all night, Victoria—as always with her weird contraptions—was completely dumbstruck.

Sure she had jumped and loudly exclaimed "holy fuck!! that is so cool.." upon first seeing the wildly skittering metal, even begging Simone for a chance to ride it, but, this was the 5th time in the week she had called her over frantically.

Seemingly incapable of waiting for a response Simone immediately began explaining in detail "I added six new macroplastic bolts and another round of hadromalectric fibro optics really it's a marvel what it's able to do but that's not even the end of if once I get this weird power source working it'll be even more marvelous," taking a deep breath before resuming her rant in earnest.

"I'm sitting ontop of brand new science here Victoria!" Her eyes crazed, wild with excitement

Simone continued at length for what might have been several hours at a conservative estimate,

Even grabbing Victoria's shoulders in excitement and shaking her wildly like a ragdoll at points.

"I can't believe you're not as excited as me really you should be this is, really.." she practically screamed in her face, faltering slightly at the growing quiet spot from where she stood.

And finally returning to earth long enough to see the look on her freckled friends dusty face, it was one of blank speechlessness. Not out of boredom,

Like she had just witnessed the most beautiful ghost she'd ever seen, pale and flushed all at once.

A bright maroon stretched between her cheeks, somewhat matching her tinged brown hair.

The air itself seemed to gain a new thickness to it, as if Victoria had suddenly shrunk to microscopic size, clinging to gusts of wind to stay afloat.

"I.. well, it's very cool to me, but I.. hope I haven't talked too muc-" to which Victoria immediately cut off with a loud refute "no! I love hearing you talk about your weird machines! Even if I don't always understand it! I just.. love hearing you talk.."

Unconsciously grabbing her already naturally outstretched hands, their faces a moment apart.

She opened her mouth to go on, but seemed somewhat star struck being so close to her.

Surprised by her forward actions as if it hadn't been her, Simone's hands didn't feel real.

They were warm, but held a strange coldness she couldn't place, comforting in equal parts.

The tension standing between them was harder than any barrier of brick, stone and plaster.

Something in the heat of freshly placed wall tiles radiating in the distance echoed their feelings, though neither had the strength to speak it.

"I- t-thank you.." Simone said, shyly, a tone unlike her, like seeing a charging buck wilt into a doe.

Suddenly sensing the shift in mood, she backed off, "oh, s-sorry I, er" an awkward energy pushing back on the two like a tangible force of the wind.

A moment of agonied silence rang out, the two fearing their voices would never return.

Like this moment of weakness would be the last of any moment they would share together,

before Victoria said aloud, in a careful, tentative waltz, letting the words room to breathe.

"You can tell me more.. about your machine, if you want to" fingers intertwining more intricately,

Forming a mess of circuitry, their twin nervous systems sparking violently middleman.

As if this simple connection would light the world on fire around them with its intensity.

"Well.." their bodies were so close they could almost feel the texture of each others clothes.

The gravitational pull of their adjoined hearts threatening to collapse into a blachole.

"I'll listen forever.. it helps you've got a cute voice, makes the science talk more bearable" she said, a nervous giggle in an attempt to deny sincerity.

Simone couldn't quite quell whatever high end engine Victoria had replaced her heart with.

It made her muscles tense up as if the torque on all her systems was up to 11, what was this feeling,

It was something she'd felt before certainly, a glide along her skin, a brush against her hands.

Something that prickled and shot out sparks like a firecracker, beating the surface of her skin red.

She realized, something in this girl, it made her come back for more everytime,

Left her starving whenever she couldn't, an urge inside her, hungry for its dinner.

Duel heartbeats ripe to tear free of their hosts and ravage on another like starving wolves.

"Well, by attaching the magnoflesium to the anglo flaskanite.. I could, make sure it stuck together.."

"It's a mineral that binds through contact.. but if you're not carefu, it can be quite brittle"

Their hands slowly parted as she began to regain her composure, like trees outstretched in a lovers embrace, slowly drifting aside with the shifting of earths plates, an unwilling but natural process.

Neither participant truly wanting to let go, but to save face, pulled apart their branches anyway.

A second of mourning taking place in between the moments of their hands being together, and being separate, something of loss felt silently by both.

She sputtered for a beat, like an engine halfway out to pasture, before softly launching back into her rant, the nerdy words treading lightly.

"It's very cutting edge, the way I manufactured the old parts with the new ones.. in ways that actually shouldn't be technographically possible, especially with the inclusion of a rodeo contraption which.. haven't even been a thing since the days of the old west! and at that the technology was rare then too! but for some reason.. I feel I already know how to work these materials as if I've always know-"

While the world clumsily righted itself, and breathing seemed possible again. Victoria was left reeling from the intimacy of the precious moment

Her heart pounded audibly in her ears, the beating against her skin, still left sparkling from the heat.

She couldn't believe what she was feeling for such a nerdy girl, one of them S.I.T smarty pants.

This contradiction of thought and emotion held a strength to knock her smack off of her feet.

Luckily having a miscellaneous workbench just behind her to lean on, her whole body felt oddly tingly, a swarming warmth that invaded her wholly

Left her skin sensitive even to her own touch, god couldn't she imagine what Simone's would feel like

"Are you paying attention Victoria!" Simone said, looking over her shoulder as she was busy detailing some diagram she had set up on the chalkboard.

As she popped back into existence she quickly spat out another smart aleck response for her.

Though her usual veneer of confidence was quite noticeably shakier and less defined right now.

"Oh please I was practically fallin asleep over here!" She bleated sarcastically, the trademark cheeky grin attempting to etch itself back into her continued flustered look, with very little success.

Simone glared back wordlessly, before Victoria followed up with a much more stable "I'm just pullin ya wrench Simmy, I'm watchin"

Hand on her chin as if she were watching the sun dip below the horizon, she sighed contentedly.

Simone's endless rant went on, jumping up and down off the metal dais her machine sat atop, even if she couldn't make sense of it, it was beautiful, simply for the fact of having been made, with so much care by her, it wasn't made for aesthetics.

She didn't know what it was even supposed to do, but seeing how passionate Simone was about it, made her feel that excitement all the same.

Like something of their shared tension was shot through the racketing metal and twitching coils.

Victoria smiled, that winning smirk that knocked em down and struck em out as she liked to say,

The whole workspace seemed to glow, and not just with the mismatched or home made light strings.

But shone bright and fluttering within her lil heart,

All for Simone, a one gal show, she hoped she'd be able to share her work one day, when it was ready.

Until then, it was her turn in the spotlight. Gazing past her as she explained who knows what, it was enough to hear her voice, stern, but so caring..

Part 1 of 1 END! What A Cute Little Moment With These Two, Wonder What She's Working On?

[blogofloathing]

A loud, cheesy anthem plays as an awful stylilized OCWE appears on a black and white TV screen

"Good belated myorning folks, I am your esteemed host! Gillian Barlows Jr! And you are watching the Ocean City Watcher Éire! Hyere to bring you the latest scyoop on the people of our great city! who are they? Why are they? When are they? How do they peel their y'apples? Let's find out nyow!"

A new fangled transition effect plays as Gillian gives an overly exaggerated shocked expression.

Approaching our first interviewee, Gygan Clarks of the Ocean City Watchful Eye, but it seems he isn't particularly excited to see us haha, wonder why.

Our trusty boom man sticks the mic in his face, at which Gygan looks visibly annoyed, sheesh you'd think we killed this guys business or something.

"What do you want Gillian" he spat, frankly I'm offended he would be so rude to a reporter!

My cameraman delivers the question after a discreet go ahead sign waved in his direction

"Look unless you think apples can make coffee taste better I'm not interested," Gygan hisses, and after a short pause mutters "with a pocket knife"

And indeed if the bulge in his pocket isn't due to seeing me, he carries said weapon on him.

Let's move on from this wannabe newsman before he gets violent! You know how those types are.

Grumbling to himself, something about "fuckin' trend hopping fast news pieces of-" haha anyway!

An apple shaped transition plays, and due to formatting issues doesn't properly disappear

•••

Our next guest went up to us herself upon hearing there was a survey, so give it up for.. Simone Chekhov! Of the S.I.T Robotics department—

Somehow interrupting this audio added in post, the girl fires up a seemingly long held rant.

"Well actually it's Robotechtronics there's a very subtle but important difference in the two fields but anyway I made a machine that peels them so precisely the skin dissolves in contact with the air due to being sliced at such a thin micromascopic level that their mololcules are-" a thin homeless girl sticks a thumbs up wildly behind Simone.

The video is suddenly stopped here due to space, a cartoonish image of sad Gillian giving a thumbs down is shown onscreen for a few seconds.

•••

we're sorry to cut this short but our camera ran plumb out of juice trying to record it all haha!

Though this did little to falter her one sided rant, even as we turned our attention away from her

Moving onto the aforementioned hobo (it's good to get a perspective from the less than fortunate.)

"OOO OOO you're gonna ask me a question! Give it here!" She jumps excitedly, the words slamming into our crew much in the same way she physically rammed into my mic man in her overzealousness

The dusty girl, who we made sure didn't touch any of our equipment, had been chittering something inane at Simone when we asked, somehow able to properly talk between each other rather than over.

"I dunno I just chomp em, see?" taking a playful bite out of her sour face, leaving a toothy mark.

... the sounds of crickets chirping has been added

"Agh! Victoria!" She expleted, wiping her face off with her sleeve, "that's gross- you're gross!"

Though Victoria didn't seem too bothered, a sly little grin making its home on her spotted face.

"Hey don't pretend ya didn't like it" she slithered, at which Simone gave her a rather hard smack on the head "and there's more where that came from!" The bespectacled girl tittered haughtily.

A tinny and muffled laugh track plays, as Gillian audibly clicks a tape recorder to start and stop

•••

Moving on from those, shall we say interesting, characters, our boom operator caught wind of some music playing a few blocks down.

And we followed the groovy tunes to their source, coming upon quite the cello fellow!

Who is contentedly playing his instrument, my team having to remind him of the question, "oh I just slice em up with my trusty pocketknife!" Holding it up for a second before going back to ringing out the tunes.

Looks to be the same kinda knife as that.. eh I forgot his name already.

I say someone should definitely toss that guy a quarter, not me though.

Really if he can afford a cello is he actually that poor I mean cmon- ah, I've been instructed by my cameraman to stop here.

A bubble and wave crashing sound effect plays too loudly, with a chintzy fade to black transition

•••

Taking a dip per sé, we find.. someone else to ask.

Attempting to avoid being seen, the oddly slimy fellow is hiding against a wall, but seeing as his clothes aren't the exact shade and texture of bricks, "I, I don't know what an apple is? please leave me alone.." he croaks out in a froggy tone.

"Would you like to try one?" My boom operator chipperly inquires, at which the still unnamed weirdo looks even more terrified of us than before

"N-no I'm good really I.." it trailed off, guess they make hobos different these days, I can't get a read on what this guy might be on the street to beg for.

"Cmon I'll get ya a fresh one" he says again, taking a step closer to it, making the thing jump loudly.

Before running away from my team in a lurch, leaving weird wet slappy footprints in his wake.

Well that was certainly productive, why don't we heed this guys words and move on to another!

A hexagon transition with a splat sound effect, it doesn't even fully segue, cutting halfway through

•••

At the urging of my team, we reluctantly almer over to a goblin for questioning, she seemed to be dancing animatedly.. or maybe boxing with the air?

"Hi! Yes yes Hello! To apples slicing? No no, Gabby is practicing see?" It said, nearly assaulting one of my cameramen, "Gabby is champion of the box!"

a goofy swirl sound effect and then a laugh track

We don't speak creature so I have no idea what any of that meant, I'd say we get out of here before that thing gets aggressive, I've heard the stories of these kinds of monsters being dangerous!

They're lucky they don't have rights or else we'd totally sue them for emotional damages.

a spooky transition effect plays, bats flying across the screen and a very poorly done witches laugh

•••

As we were making our way back to the studio, my mic man caught eye of some kinda hobo living in the alley, I insisted we don't interview something like that but who listens to me around here?

Walking up to her, I'm already less than enthused about her appearance, something in her eyes wasn't like it should be, they seemed to stare directly inside of us unlike anything.

"Hello ma'am how would you say you peel-" my other cameraman began, being cut off by her wheezily trilling poem, "peel? Peeling, skin peeling wallpaper off the wall, apples falling trees cutting"

I.. wow! Okay! That is not at all what any of us were expecting, all our hairs stood violently on end.

Like looking into the den of a wounded predator about to make a strike, protecting its wounds.

She stepped closer to us, gazing through us, it felt as though she saw more than just my skin.

"Apples and oranges" it felt as though she wasn't even talking to us, despite facing our direction.

No one bothered putting a transition effect here, the camera simply cuts right to the next scene

•••

aaaaand one last questioneer today folks! As we were wrapping up and dutifully wiping down and sanitizing our stuff to get all the filth off them, a distracted old guy bumped into us, and sooooo!

"Oh! Eh uh, I mostly just eat cheese" the weirdo said emphatically before forcing us to look at a horrible mass of aged milk madness, before reassuring us that "it's Käse Brezel! The finest in the city! If ya see me come and buy so-" yeah no

Sorry sir I don't even know what language you just spoke there but I can tell it ain't somethin I'm gonna be eating, especially from someone like you

Though my crew seems oddly interested in it, I'll have to show them what real food is like I guess,

gives me an excuse to hang out with those mooks.

anywho, our final stop of the day was a nice little cheese pretzel shop, the finest in the city!

An equally loud and somehow even cheesier little outro theme plays as we fade back onto Gillian

"Well thyank you all for tyuning in this fine after nyoon, we hope we could answer all of your deep byurning questions! As always I am your esteemed host; Gillian Barlows Jr! And you have been watching the Ocean City Watcher Éire, where we catch up the scyoop and throw it to your hyoop! See y'all nyext week with our next Q: how good is the government doing right now? ( A: pyerfect!)"

[blogofloathing]

Part 1 of 1! Rittle And The Day Out On The Town

I'll be out for the day, continue your work Simmy, the bleeding shimmer forced Simone to think.

"Y-Yes sir.." the girl shakily replied, ironic how such a bossy little bore could be whipped so easily.

It had only been a few weeks since they'd properly met, but she was already bending to hisheel.

Her mind was easy to manipulated, he knew what made her clock tick, how to wind it by hand.

Simone was key, to building this machine, she was the only one who would do as needed.

Someone of her caliber, was hard to come by, even Rittle could admit he was impressed by her.

Continue working, I will know how much you did, the beast howled one last time before leaving.

Fading out from the scene like a shadowy mirage, as if dissipating into the very air surrounding it.

Viewing this was nearly nauseating, like seeing holes in space fill in where they hadn't been before.

He was almost disappointed to not hear cries for an encore, invisible roses tossed up onto the stage

Ceasing to exist, inky molecules reapplying the glue binding them at their new location.

"Goodbye.." Simone quivered hesitantly, as if to speak too loudly would draw his temper.

Elsewhere, a clinging black tar stuck to the walls of the Ocean City Watchful Eye, like an infection. Rooting its way into the very foundation.

A wiry dark tendril unfurled throughout the ceiling and floors as if a great snake were relaxing.

There he was, the newspaper boy, the conceited fool sorting through that obsessives papers.

But nothing out of the ordinary these days, the serpentine tumor hissed an awful laugh.

One so full of hatred, and amused mockery, that he could sense the silly newsies hair stand up.

"Uh- who's there?" The stupid man said suddenly, glancing around, seems Rittle hadn't been as quiet as he thought, "ugh probably another prank.."

Well, seeing as there weren't any pressing issues, the pricked finger of god detached itself,

Once again dematerializing out of sight and out of mind, save for the fetid roots remaining.

Elsewhere, the bridges tattooed graffiti darkened, burnt as sin and flashing a bright, cheery smirk.

The coalescence of infinite minds looked down at what appeared to be just some hobo girl.

But, for some reason he couldn't reach her, he wasn't able to infest her mind like he did others.

His feeble attempts at such had proved fruitless it was as if she possessed no mind at all, yet clearly she did! Clearly she moved, talked, ate,

He couldn't deny this issue had been frustrating for quite some time, she would be the snag..

Letting Simone think for now that he was leaving her little girlfriend alone out of courtesy.

The beast couldn't let its one good chance have any kind of advantage, mental or otherwise.

But this.. girl, would become an issue later on..

In the end, it could always just rip her apart, once the dutiful engineer had finished her work.

Messily unsticking itself from the physical plane just as before, the stains of its malice remaine.

As he peeked his one, endlessly fractalized eye, into an unassuming alleyway, where a girl was.

She laid there in a box, twitching and skittering around like a centipede running in circles.

The playthings eyes had that look about them, as if to gaze too closely would be to fall right in.

The shadow had been using this girl as.. somewhat of an experiment if you will, in possession.

Of course the process could never be clean, most of all for the body who was taken hostage.

He wouldn't dare compromise the bespectacled girl, but a hobo? No one would miss her anyway.

And he had things to test, stepping down into this girls skin, stretching it out to its limit.

Writhing demons and creening grackles sung songs of warning and of regret in turn.

The outcasted hobo heaved and foamed at the mouth, rattling violently like a dying animal.

As something with no true measure of its form subsumed into her, miniature in scale, flesh.

Pushing aside her bones, making room where her organs lay, filling in the space between her veins.

And finally, flexing its fingers, and standing up.

Affixing his all too vicious blood-in-the-water smirk firm upon his newly acquired face.

They said the devil would be beautiful, but he'd say beauty is in his eyes, the beholder.

He pondered what to do today, through a human brain, it felt familiar, but restricting.

Ah! Exactly the thing I need to unwind, lightbulb forming brilliantly atop his head.

Calmly alming over to the boardwalk, something to stimulate his consciousness.

"Sorry to bother ya ma'am but coulda spare some meat?" Said an unsightly woman.

Clearly this was not the finest specimen of the era.

Attempting to ignore this less than reputable lady.

"I could really use the-" she continued, before her skin drained of blood at the expression on his face.

Something between a killer smile and the haunting look of a predator on the hunt, "I- I have to.. go"

The hobo stuttered, croaking out as if on the verge of vomiting simply at the look Rittle gave her.

Something in that horrid stare told of a creature beneath this, facetious skin stretched over it.

It let out a cackling laugh, one which drew in odd glances all around from passersby.

Well that was certainly fun, thought Rittle, but I'm looking for something more.. exciting!

Spying a fortune tellers tent just beloft the spot where the hobo had previously stood.

A sly smirk snakes its way onto his face, lets see

Surely this would be amusing, reading his future.

He slowly entered the tent, the girl manning the table seemed far too young for such a job.

She greeted him with a cheery "welcome in! Here for a reading?" At which he slithered "yes"

You could almost hear the malevolence within his tone, even translated through a human mouth.

The quote fortune teller unquote, launched into an immediate tangential derivative drivel about tarot and star signs, they weren't all that special when you're actually there to see em up close.

Finally after her fifth offer of magical crystals, at which Rittle eyed her like a hunter eyes a doe.

"Ah- uh, well, anyway let's get to the meat of the matter" surely referring to the actual session he had paid for, and the money used to purchase it

The slightly rustled seer place the first of 3 tarot cards upon the table, flipping it face up with a dramatic swish, displacing the fog, which was upsettingly easy to tell how fake it was

"The Fool Reversed! A kindhearted adventurer is unaware of the hooked lure hanging above her"

This being only the important bits, cutting out a lot more pretentious explainy wainy cauliflower.

"The Tower! A sudden change marks a point of no return, from which the adventure is forever altered"

Even Rittle will admit his eyebrows were quite a bit raised, as the lady flipped over his final tarot card.

"The World Reversed, the adventurer has plans of a massive scale, but has either found it difficult in the past, or is currently troubling to finish the job!"

He couldn't deny this was shockingly impressive, a good showing if you will,

Seemingly uncertain how to finish, she blurted out "well that'll be 600 meat!"

Six Hundred? For flipping a few cards and trying to sell some cockamamie garbage, this wouldn't do.

Sitting silently in the chair, Rittle waited for the girl to foolishly inquire again about the ghastly price.

"Uh, ma'am for my services and time that'll be-" like the previous mousey little thing, her face seemed as if a plug had been released, emptying of color.

As she began backpedaling, nervous laughs clawing free of her throat, an unconscious attempt at appeasing whatever blasphemy she's incurred.

Rittle's humanoid form collapsed like the magistral death of a falling sun, the cowardly deer screamed.

Looking for an exit where one no longer existed, it was just it and her, the tent had no opening.

I think, my fees are paid, hm? The clicking and skittering of insects vibrated to the human.

The silly girl shook and cried on the floor, her eyes struck through with terror, of unimaginable horror.

God looked down at her from above it's inky black heavens, crossed with a shade of maroon.

My dues, are yours, tempesting violently like a hurricane had entered this unfortunate girls head.

"y-yes! Yes! They're paid! I swear! Please please don't hurt me! Please!" She screamed as if to stop begging for forgiveness for a moment would truly condemn her to damnation, ah ah ah, pay, me.

"Yes Yes! Okay! You can take everything! It's yours!" Cowering with her head in her arms, finally the beast was pleased, returning to its human shape with the snap of a star twinkling into existence.

"Well see now how hard was that?" Slithered Rittle, his forked tongue, hissing with each S like a snake.

His speech was slow and methodical, as if each word was carefully chosen and enunciated.

The peddler only sat silently, handing over all of the meat she'd received that day, oh no no.

"All of it, Marla" Rittle wrote onto her brain with careless imprecision, "b-but, I need-"

"I'm sorry, here.." pulling out a much larger sack, plumb full of meat, "thank you kindly!"

Rittle blew the bedraggled and haunted woman a kiss on his way out, quite a productive day!

He could faintly hear the sounds of racked sobs emanating from the squinty little tent, as he sauntered on home, the sun was setting softly, it seemed he'd had a bit too much fun with her.

It was daunting enough maintaining this shell, he could feel cracks deepening in the thin flesh surrounding this blackened solar storm.

If he didn't leave soon this ruined body would be unusuable, and he liked pushing her limits.

Exiting the poor girl with the force of ripping out weeds from within her, the host let out a gasping scream before collapsing on the ground, shivering and gurgling as she crawled back into the alley.

He avoided being spotted, if she could even see after having him invade her already greatly sullied brain, he expected she couldn't take much more

Abandoning her to struggle once more, he flowed, a heavy fog, down into sewer grates, seeping into cracks and hitching a ride on the wind

Leaving the unfortunate cringer with blood like stars and skin that pulsed with strange movement

Fully reconstituting himself back within Simone's workshop once again, oh Simmy, it breathed with a musical little trill, I'm back from my days errands

"W-Welcome home.. I made some progress on-" impatient to hear the rest he interrupted

Excellent job, you've gone almost a full day with out failing me! The backhanded praise stung, the poison of a scorpions tail delivering the news.

Simone went back to tinkering miserably with a bolt here, a nut there, and Rittle only smiled.

Part 1 of 1 END! Rittle Continues To Torment Poor Simone, And Another Girl? Who Could She be?

[blogofloathing]

Part 1 of ?! Gregory C And The Food Expediancy

Slimy wriggling little bugger, that's what the folks up there would call me surely, Gregory thought.

As the–quite aptly described—slimy wriggling little bugger, slinked through the S.I.T steam tunnels.

I'm safe here, he thought, no one came down here anyway, no one would be around to look at me.

The wet eyed fellow was indeed a sight to behold, teeth like broken glass and a pockmarked face.

Though none of which would be of concern to any passersby, Gregory's face hidden primarily by leagues of dripping hair, like seaweed on his head.

His unfortunate complexion further under mystery by the trenchcoat and gloves he'd bummed out of the trash, no one could know, they would hate him

There was no more certain a thing than that, if anyone knew what he was, he would be shunned.

An outcast among outcasts thrown in the fryer.

Taking a moment to regroup his wandering train of thought, Gregory reminded himself of his mission.

Buy the food, don't draw attention, get out, the less than smooth to say mantra kept him calm

Somewhat at least, his nerves were still on high alert, scoping out for predators between the kelp.

Gah, between the grass, this was land, no ocean talk Gregory, he scolded himself in a harsh tone.

If he wanted to fit in he'd have to nix all of that fishy lingo, this world was harsh to outsiders.

He knew that for a fact, having nearly never interacted with a human, their eyes seemed to gouge chunks from his flesh with a hooked stare.

Gregory never wanted anyone to look at his body ever again, he sometimes liked to imagine he was simply a floating head, gliding across the earth.

The idea of someone, looking, seeing, or even.. touching him, it made his scaly flesh prickle Iridly.

Everywhere he felt the hands, imprinted on his skin like a tattoo, no matter how hard he scrubbed there they laid, as if they'd been branded onto him.

He hated to think about, them, the men, strong hands and scary words, that was why I must remain here, thought Gregory, safe from them.

This spiral of despair was shockingly interrupted by a high pitched *SQUEAK* right beside him.

It seemed a mouse had made its home here in these halls just as Gregory, he envied the squeaker

Small enough to go unnoticed, skilled enough to carve out its own living, this rodent held a score in a power of ten above Gregory's

The mouse however, didn't hear his thoughts, as one can expect, and likely wouldn't have gotten it if it could, it simply squeaked again.

Pointing right towards its stomach in an animated fashion, "you, want cheese..?" The fish boy asked, croaking with unused vocal cords readjusting to speech, it wasn't often he spoke aloud.

Instead of suddenly being able to speak perfect English, it just continued pointedly gesturing.

Gregory sighed, the exhale making his gills flutter and squelch wetly, another gross difference.

Not having any cheese, he wished he could explain that to his new little friend, "I'm sorry.. I don't.."

This equally hungry fellow reminded Gregory of his original goal, that's right, go to the resturant.

Sorry, he thought, striding beloft the rat, leaving it looking mildly dejected to go back into the wall.

Gregory took care to avoid the scattered rocks and loose nails across the floor, certainly a downside of this area being so semi permanently deserted..

The halls of these steam tunnels were littered with old rusted doors, most of them being locked.

He walked past several, bellowing the hum of large machinery or hushed words between people.

A door to the freezer, whirring audible blizzards, and in contrast the low fwoom of a boiler hissed.

A padlocked door, said lock rattling in an alarming manner, the growls of some awful beast behest it.

A door with the label scratched off, hearing loud, strange zaps, and mechanical raggling, he swiftly moved past, finally reaching his desired entrance.

Mentally readying himself, stood before the door with an unhelpful skull and crossbones stenciled across the top, nearly intimidating him to leave.

But no, this was where he'd get what would likely be his only meal that day, his stomach growled.

A low and rumbling refrain against his own fears.

Part 1 of END, Part 2 Coming Soon, The Fishy Adventures Of Gregory Chisholm Will Continue!

[blogofloathing]

Part 3 of 3! The End To This Exciting Origin Story

Where am I, I inquired with the being who'd sent me here, floating in a hauntingly familiar way

But I could tell, for a fact, this was reality, I could see lights and shimmers glitter in the distance.

Looking at my hands outstretched before me, I could see them, even so, it appeared I was no longer made of simple muscle and bone.

It was as if my very form an outline cut in space, through which glinted stars even more brilliant and mesmerizing than the ones laid before me.

My body seemed to flow, clinging to surrounding particles as I move, leaving behind broad streaks of empty space wherever my self touched.

Even in holding humanoid shape, not static, like flowing and dripping in all directions at once, a slow hypnotizing stream unlike anything.

You're just outside the solar system, the beast expressed in a strange low frequency hum.

Interrupting my self reflection, and vibrating within what could be my organs in name only.

You will take the steps laid before, as you have proven capable of, tread lightly Rittle.

Only then may you sleep, the bloated god clawed onto my skin. I will assist, you can handle the rest.

Suddenly with a click, the channel changed, black jets of flame shot out of a large building, people like ants scattered around nervously.

The channel changed, I was overlooking an old junkyard, a bespectacled girl was rummaging through it, after a while she finds a-

The channel changed, a barn was frozen in the moments between and after exploding, a hole punched in space seemingly standing middleman.

Click, a newspaper building, several figures bustle around inside, but before I could read the sign-

Click, an old bridge, two hobos sat fishing side by side, one of them singing an inaudible jest, and-

Click, an unremarkable house, a "Live Laugh Cello" sign hanging above the door, suddenly a loud-

Click, a bar, built into an alley for some reason, it's patrons gathered to celebrate Crimbo it seemed.

Unknown scenes and people flashed before me, none carrying any sort of familiarity I'd come to expect from this world, why do you show me these

I couldn't recognize a single face I saw, nor any one location, where are we, I asked, unable to wait for a response for my previous query. It grinned ryely.

The smart little filly down there is about to find something, something of interest to you.

She will call you, thinking it a fun object of study, she has no idea what it really means,

She will call you, and you will ravage this world until nothing remaines, that will be it.

The door is already ajar, the culminations of your efforts haven't gone to waste little Rittle.

The creature wholly unwilling to pause for an answer from me, spoke with a reverence in its tone I couldn't place, it seemed to need me to have heard it, more than it needed me to understand it.

Now hold on just a minute, what does any of this even mean, the dripping beast simply smiled.

A cheshire impression of malice, my questions unnecessary, frivolous and amusing. I sighed.

Let us do as needed, I outstretched a starry eyed hand, its grin widening, gripping not my hand,

But my arm, in a constrictive bind. Its faces, for lack of a better word, stand inches away from mine

"Do as needed" it spoke, an audible order, before suddenly tossing me by the wrist through space.

To land unceremoniously in a heap upon the floor of some.. workshop? This would have to do.

Looking back at where I'd emerged from, a single cows skull affixed to an antique rodeo bull.

How ironic, this comedy wrenching out of me a laugh that shocked the very walls black.

You're on your own, that's all I can do from here, the voice intimated, before a sudden feeling as if a ringing in my ears had just been cut off. Despite having never noticed it until it'd already vanished.

At its absence, my smirk reemerged, placing itself tight upon my face as if never having left me.

Reeling off the high of my newfound existential joy, I took a moment to properly take in my immediate surroundings, the floor stung cold to the touch,

Several abandoned instruments and cut wires lay strewn across the floor.

A picture frame depicting a spectacled girl and what appeared to be a hobo standing arm in arm.

And on the wall, multiple newspaper clippings tacked amateurly in rows.

"On this day, Simone Chekhov receives a medal made out of solid meat! Due to excellent achievements in robotechtronics, and related fields of study, as brought to you by The Ocean City Watchful Eye"

The author of the clipping had been smudged with time, but no matter.

She would do as needed, perfect, It seems god had been correct.

I laughed the rumbling sounds of a thousand hoof beats, my voice cutting through the air as if my speech were a tangible force upon the wind.

The universe had such a sense of humor didn't it?

END of Part 3! The Origin of Simone's Captor!

[blogofloathing]

Part 2 of 3! Formless And Unknowing, Nothing

I didn't understand, what was going on, why did this hurt, this wasn't a scripted injury, this hurt.

Not like makeup, not the prosthetic wounds of losing a fight, I felt my body failing me, I felt it,

Blood poured from me, coagulated and dark, it flowed in a sickening way unlike anything.

Why was there so much blood, my body rattled uncontrollably, shock rapdily setting in.

Why wasn't I pulled backstage, the play ended.

This went against everything I knew, everything I'd been lead to believe, this was impossible. Right?

I didn't know who I was asking this to, maybe god, but there was no being close to answer me.

None of this was supposed to be happening, it wasn't part of this scene, I looked up at Doc.

Her eyes blazing with fury greater than a hellcow, I sitting in reverence, on my knees as if praying.

She cocked the shotgun again, the sound made me wince, I opened my mouth to beg, but nothing.

For a moment I attempted to speak, gurgling on my own blood, all that came out was a groan.

And at last god delivered his judgement, in the form of another two rounds pluming my brains out into an arc across the ceiling and throne behind.

Red trickling down my face, obscuring my eye, I sat there, crumpled in a heap on the floor,

the rest of me sat elsewhere around the room, chunks of my scalp dripping off the ceiling.

Splintered bones and flayed skin clung to my matted hair, staining my clothes a deep maroon.

The skeletons around us had gone silent, now only the chattering of my own shattered jaw gave theme to the scene, a symphony to my undoing.

A horrifying terror gripped me, I was dying, this wasn't gonna end in me waking up tommorow.

I was afraid, for the first time since leaving home that fateful day, I felt fear, my mortality made clear

Why did I ever want this, why did I work towards a final end like this, not like this, not this pain.

I don't want to die, I didn't want to die, not like this.

In a moment a white hot anger formed in my dying brain, a defiant scream against this fate, matching the flames of my companion, that demented old..

We'd played this same silly game for so long, had she grown tired of the routine too, why wouldn't I have noticed, was I that focused on myself..

Who does she think she is, killing me? After an eternity of being unwilling, why now?

When I've just about reached my goal? Now is when she decided to break character?

The world seemed to have screeched to a halt after the second shot, the foolish doctor standing there, with a hate in her eyes, so caustic it seemed to spill out of her and disintegrate everything it touched.

And me, torn to pieces on the floor of my throne room, this can't be how the performance ends.

The crack of gunfire still rang deafeningly in my remaining ear, the last noise I would ever hear?

Rumbling shook the floor at our feet, evidently my own necromancy was fading from these bones.

Just as I felt the last vestiges of my consciousness curl up and blow away into ashes, for a moment I saw Doc's mouth twitch, she was about to speak.

I kneeled in anticipation, how could she.. what would she even, there was nothing to say.

With a stutter like the ruffling of a newspaper, I found myself suddenly enveloped in darkness

Looking around, surprisingly through two eyes, I attempted to touch my own body, and where I thought it was, my hands went right through.

There was no sound, not even the low hum of my circulatory system, pure and total silence,

My meaningless words fell deaf upon this void, I couldn't even tell if my eyes were open or not now.

This was seemingly complete nothingness, I couldn't even see my own hands infront of my face

That is if I still had any, being far less than a ghost.

and so I waited, I waited, I waited, I waited for what could've been five minutes or a thousand millennia.

I stared into total blackness, deeper than any color in life, I stared for centuries until my eyes fell out

I screamed for a hundred lifetimes until my lungs dried up, I kicked I punched I flailed, until my legs and arms shriveled away, until I was nothing

Nothing in a sea of emptiness, true nonexistence, a single minuscule brain floating throughout.

I floated there, withering away until time looped all the way back around from start to finish.

The universe came and went, and came again, but I was outside it, experiencing none of it.

Until one day, no, one moment, in an infinite library of every moment that ever has and ever will occur.

Something, was within this nothing, something that wanted something, with me, here in nothing

I felt a hulking movement within the void, as if a titan gone completely unseen until now had lowered its head to look straight down at me.

You are Rittle Murts are you not, it warbled throughout the unending cosmos, not a question

The.. noise? Rattled whatever remained of my physicality, it was less speech, more so an implanting of feelings interpreted by my brain.

I couldn't speak, my mouth had long since turned into mindless particles, as with the rest of myself.

but it reassured me I didn't need to, we are special you and I, it told me. Even still, I didn't quite get it.

It taught me everything I had ever known and ever would know, I believe we share a common goal.

Do you agree, once again, already knowing what my answer would be, it didn't wait for a response.

Perfect, will you do as needed. This, finally was, a genuine question, and so I hesitated for a moment

It sure seemed like this thing was my only ticket out of here, surely nothing was worse than this.

It communicated ill intent towards me if I should choose to differ, I couldn't dream of anything comparable to this endless infinity. Even death, would be a welcome end to this. At this thought,

The moving shadow made something clear to me, oh no no, it is not time yet, you're necessary.

Necessary for what? I questioned, unsure if the being could even hear what I was thinking.

Receiving no response, it seemed to be waiting for me to continue, it knew I would have more to say,

I'm telling you I've already done everything this world has to offer, I'm here because it's over.

The abyssal form seemed to find this funny, it was wrong to say it laughed, more so intimated an amusement at the very notion I'd presented.

Au contraire Rittle, there's much more to be done.

So I thought yes, and although it had no physical self to show it, I could feel this great beast smile.

And in the same vein, felt my own lips curl into a grin, and its thoughts become my thoughts.

Flexed my newly assigned limbs, clasped my hands into fists, open and close open and close.

We laughed, every soul in the universe seemed to let free in this manic expression of mirth.

This feeling, of being connected throughout the chilled hearts of a trillion souls, this was power.

That old quack, did she think a shotgun was effective enough pesticide, this nest ran far deeper than one man nor a million men, with I at the helm.

"Shall we do as needed?" My minds thought, my mouths spoke, my arms gestured, as needed.

And for the first time chronologically, i was born.

Wrenched unceremoniously into yet another dark emptiness, but this time, I could see something.

There were distant flashes of lights, barren rocks, ice, and dust. There wasn't oxygen, but I breathed

A deep deep sigh of relief, finally, this is what I had been working towards, this is what it all lead up to!

Part 2 of 3 END, Part 3 Coming Very Very Soon!!

[blogofloathing]

Part 1 of 3! They'll All Know Your Name Y'know

Chittering skulls, splintered bones, chipped femurs, clacking teeth. The necromancers tower stood tall and glorious, a monument to rebirth.

It stood above the land, it stood in waiting, the magistral titan, the culmination of a generations souls. The karmic power of countless slain bodies.

This is where it all lead up to, not to Frisco, but of course they would be instrumental all the same.

I could hear the voices of all those I'd struck down, wailing curses and horridly gavening soulside.

They gave static to my withered hair, my palid skin.

My atrophied muscles tingled with necromantic energy, a swirling mana that permeated the air.

In any case, this body wasn't of much worry to me.

If I fail this attempt, I'll simply wake up back at my parents house, and do it again, all over again.

I couldn't tell you how many times I've done this, the trail of spirits tracing my steps knew no end.

My pardner however, would prove to be of trouble.

Her sensibilities were all too empathetic, the stupid old woman. She was only alive to lead me here.

And then she would leave once she knew the truth.

The same way she did everytime, so so predictable

As if she was some kind of saint by any standard.

All the cultists, all the skeletons, it was a shame to kill my own supporters, but appearances matter.

At last, we'd arrived at the entrance, I greeted the door with a wink, "Abra-Cadaver" I spoke,

This password familiar on my tongue, but one I could never fully remember until I read it.

It's a fun quirk of the world I've noticed, I have all these.. impressions, memories of another time.

Glimpses into other eventualities, glances of odd, familiar sillouhettes, reflections that didn't match.

But not the past, or future; alternate memories from my present, even still, with this knowledge..

I continued to have to "learn" everything again, to discover the key I already had in the lock.

Like I was simply a character in a performance, hung taught to the whims of the curtained gallows.

Forced to act the scenes out in the proper order.

By this time I had already read all of the books, I knew it was necessary to do so before coming.

Same way I knew which horse to get, and who to bring with me, who to help, and who to kill.

Every step in the path printed out before me, even if I didn't always know the reasons why.

It was all a means to an end, steps in the puzzle.

What items to get, what to eat, to drink, what skills to hone I could see it all, I could manipulate it.

I couldn't make her support my goals, you can only do so much with moxie, but I could get close.

I could see clearly what exactly made her clock tick

Every response, every question every answer, the script memorized, ready to preform for all.

The stage set out before me as the infinite horizon.

"How d'ya feel Doc? Being here at last?" I said, with reverence in my voice, she couldn't know where exactly that tone came from, she could only say-

"Time to set aside my Hippocratic oath," cocking her shotgun "let's do some harm" it's what she always says, I nearly giggled at the cheesy line.

We stepped inside, it was just like I remember, a home I'd long since left, returned, it felt so so cold.

The chill in my heart was as calming and soothing as the warmth many describe feeling with others.

But at this point, I couldn't see these, things, as people, they weren't like me, they didn't think,

They simply said and did what the damn "story" demanded, I was so horribly sick of it, but soon, I would achieve my ending, at the top of the spire.

I was practically giddy with delight, a skip to my step as I approached the first of three obstacles.

Impeding our path to the ladder was an entire forts worth of skeletons, the same ones as usual, I'd even taken to memorizing the differences in them.

Despite already knowing the words, I had to read the tablet, the secrets grinned a knowing grimace.

I resisted saying her line for her, I knew the exact moment she would say it, every single time.

"I'm tellin ya you shouldn't be messin with that.."

My reassurance dampened her worries, always did, until the very last one, I couldn't wait for it.

The silly old doctor readied her gun, expecting a fight, I smiled and spoke the words I never forgot.

Turning an entire army of skeletons that once stood just before us into a volley of white shrapnel.

It was so easy, so so easy, as if I'd personally raised all of these skeletons, just to put them down again.

Her sidelong glance at me, boring a hole into my head, oh how anger could become so amusing.

Not even bothering to give her a glance, I knew the glowering expression of discomfort she'd wear.

We made it through the next two floors, reading the runes, annihilating the enemies in our path.

Skipping past it all like nothing, until we reach the top, my goal, my salvation, this was where it would all finally end, once I finally get the right outcome.

I walked towards the necromancer, his hollowed out shell eyed me, it seemed to understand,

Maybe he was once trapped like me, but failed.

Succumbed to the grip of this linearly pathed world, become another set of predictable nothing.

I stood on the platform behest the throne, and awaited her line, right on que "step, back."

Her gun cocked, the sound almost sending me into a laughing fit, it was so comical, it was all so funny.

"Don't worry Alice, it's fine, I can control it" I spoke in a slither, my forked tongue sharp as obsidian, with the color to match, the lies tasted so good.

I couldn't muster the care to listen to this, as she leveled her gun at my center of mass, I did as needed, black fire shining dark in my eyes,

consuming the poor old soul on the pitied throne.

It was impossible but, for a moment I thought I saw the corpse smile, as he dissipated, a lingering expression of satisfaction not unlike my own.

Halting my advance for a beat, why on earth did I recognize.. not purely because I'd seen him before..

A half remembered gust of misplaced nostalgia.

Alice's hands shook in that delightful way, a mix of rage and regret danced like a fire in her eyes.

This familiar comedy bringing me back from my contemplation, I had almost missed my cue.

"Are you gonna pull the trigger?" I said, waiting for her line; "I better not ever see your face again"

And then she would meander offstage, again. The smile on my face threatened to split me in two.

But, as I had this thought, this expectation, I felt something impact me, hitting me, right in the gut.

It was so totally out of the question to me, that for a moment I was entirely unaware what happened.

Something hard, and metal, was burning inside me, I felt my organs scream, my bones crunch.

A ghoulish splatter of gore across the stark white floor, it would be beautiful if I could appreciate it.

I couldn't speak, both out of pain, and the fact I'd never experienced this before, I didn't know the words for this scene, for the first time in hundreds of years I was uncertain, I was truly surprised.

End of Part 1! Split In Two Because It's Too Long

[blogofloathing]

Some Fan Made Loathing Items From My Stories!

Candy Cane Bits: Whoever made these bright red peppermint candy canes was so overwhelmed by their act of creation, that they smashed it into bits.

Peppered Out: You've eaten an entire bowls worth of the worst bowl of restaurant peppermints. You doubt you'll ever be able to smell anything else again, increases your stench armor by 5.

Sentimental Mug: This must have held some value to someone, now it's just a reminder of bad coffee. Splash your opponent with the disappointing drink to lower their moxie by their mysticality.

Watermelon Coffee Bean: Through what I can only assume must be illegal beancraft, a watermelon has been crossed with a coffee bean.

You've Never Slept: By eating the entire thing in one sitting, you've managed to retroactively turn all of your goodnight sleeps into all nighters. You can now increase your speed stat with XP.

Boozed Crimbo Tree: This Crimbo tree has spent its life in a speakeasy soaked in beer. Use once per combat to lower your opponent's moxie by 2

No Face: You aren't sure what this is but you know for sure it isn't a face, not yours anyway.

Mishandled Clock: More hands means that you can control time right? Probably, don't think about it, use once per combat to rewind your stats back to how they were at the start of the fight.

Propaganda: Newspaper dated for May X, 19XX, there's a coffee stain where the authors name was.

Käse Brezel: This bread is so thoroughly drowned in cheese it's a wonder it even resembles bread.

Easy Cheesy: You've eaten cheese, you just ate cheese, you can't believe you were ever gaslit into believing that this was even 1% bread by that hack. Increase your stench armor and mysticality by 1.