composing-birdsong

[composing-birdsong]

oh chat I’m getting ideas. ideas and symbolisms . oh dear god. Guys i remembered magpies

live footage of me seconds away from redesigning Gabriel again

[composing-birdsong]

After stepping into this room, you can no longer go back to what or where you once were, would you still like to continue?

god this is such a ruined old man. I hope he isn’t about to get himself killed and be down a wing and an eye

[composing-birdsong]

Zeus’ TV head could just as easily be a muzzle and the same result would take place. is this ocpost anything

[composing-birdsong]

clockwork future somehow being the most competent and mentally stable aspect of clockwork is really fucking funny to me. the other two are losing to a BIRD MAN

[composing-birdsong]

writing advice for characters with a missing eye: dear God does losing an eyes function fuck up your neck. Ever since mine crapped out I've been slowly and unconsciously shifting towards holding my head at an angle to put the good eye closer to the center. and human necks. are not meant to accommodate that sorta thing.

[composing-birdsong]

live footage of me seconds away from redesigning Gabriel again

[composing-birdsong]

You stare ahead at your sparrow as he realises who the canary he had seen was, and you feel like the world whispered the name no actor would want to hear right into your ears.

Any second now, the disappointment, the anger, all of the pain your sparrow had felt, would be thrown and directed at you in a dramatic scene.

And you had to brace yourself, because you couldn’t let him see how much that would hurt.

You could not let anything you did not want to be seen bleed past your mask. Even if what you kept away turned to eat you alive (dead? what was the right word to describe your state?), once it realised it couldn’t get out through any other way.

In truth, you had always just wanted to help. You had never wanted to hurt your sparrow, or at least you think you hadn’t.

The way your own mind worked had long since stopped being relevant to you. You knew how to make other people’s minds work in a way you needed them to, and that was enough. And you only ever used that to help. You just wanted to help.

You kept him from the truth for now because you knew it would hurt him. Once you had led him to ensure this world, this fake world Your Past couldn’t see they were slowly losing control of, wasn’t any danger to reality, then you could bring him to the son he wanted to see. But it would be dangerous to let him get hurt before this world was stable, so you lied. 

And besides, They always want a happy ending. That’s what They told you, when you found out about the true nature of this reality you were supposed to have such a high level of control over. They wanted that dramatic reunion, a wonderful scene full of emotions. And you wanted to please Them, to feed them before they fed on you.

So you lied. You lied because it made the performance and the story all the better.

But you’ve never been able to plan that far ahead, only seeing what’s happening in the moment.

You weren’t prepared for your lies to come crashing down on you.

This is Your Future’s doing, and you know it is. Static as uncaring as they pretend to be, they’ve always been a cunning creature. Despite their frail nature, they’re even better at directing an actor than you are at times. They knew that it the little canary found your sparrow, your play would fall apart, and their webs of strings would reign supreme.

They don’t even know what you know. You are the only one to know Them. And yet Your Future so easily stopped the script you were writing in its tracks.

 And now you were left to deal with the fallout, as your sparrow turned back to face you.

He takes off his mask, the one you gave him to more easily guide him, and you suppress a wince. 

Of the three of You, you’ve always been the most sociable. Through all the times you’ve split off to go interact with the world, you’ve learnt a lot about how the people of your reality, the one You all helped create along with the other deities. You’ve fallen in love with how they move, how they interact with each other, and what they create. They’re always moving towards the next moment in a way that enthrals you. Even when they wither and die, like they’re all destined to do, they’re so unique in how they do it.

But the one part you hate is their anger. Even when you were yourself and only you, it was always the worst feeling. To have scorn directed towards you made you feel sick, it made you want to tear off your own skin until you were absolutely nothing at all.

You never learnt how to deal with it, not properly. You could keep pretending it was fine, that it didn’t bother you, just until you could get away and be alone with the feelings of failure and anguish.

You do it now, just standing still as he sobs, as he screams at you. If you move, you’ll tear yourself into just the same state as him. Even if you can’t destroy yourself like you did as a person, you’ll try. You’ll keep trying until the horrible thing in your chest that spreads when you receive any anger, is finally gone.

Your little sparrow is so angry with you, and though a small part of you wants to comfort him, you don’t. This is a fine performance, you suppose. It will feed Them. And then, after he’s finished and you’ve had your time to want to rip yourself into shreds, you’ll improvise. You’ll keep going until the play’s over, and then you’ll go into your next performance.

It’s the best you can do. Maybe you won’t get to your intended ending, but if your sparrow lets you then you can get him a happy one.

You just have to keep acting.

[composing-birdsong]

“You aren’t a monster, you know.”

Zeus blinked over at them, seemingly shocked by the break of their silence. Calico simply blinked back, slowly and deliberately. “Miles keeps saying it, but I don’t think it’s true.”

The face on Zeus’ screen turned into one of anger. “Well, it’s the one thing the bastard is right about. Look at me, Whiskers, I’m not exactly a sight for sore eyes. And I’m not a good person, either.”

“But you’re not a monster.”

They could hear Zeus’ tail swishing angrily behind him and the sound of static cracking in the air. “Yes, I am! I am filth and I’ve always known that! You don’t- don’t fucking lie to me.” He yelled, and Calico had to do their best to not flinch or wince. They sat there, next to the angered man, waiting.

“If you were a monster, you wouldn’t have agreed to come along with us. If you were a monster, you wouldn’t be so willing to admit you were in the wrong.” They hummed, internally bracing themselves for the anger that was to come. “You don’t want to be a monster, even if you think you are, do you?”

Silence. Calico looked at the demon, who had practically frozen. Like an animal that would freeze before its fight or flight instance kicked in. “You aren’t perfect. You aren’t really a good person. But if you keep putting yourself down, you’re not going to have the energy to become a better one.” 

Zeus stayed silent. They stood, leaving him frozen as they walked off. Zeus would figure it out, eventually, but he had to do it himself. He was smart enough.

For now, Calico had done their bit. They weren’t quite sure how they got into this situation, giving advice to this group of travellers, but they were in this for the long haul and they would help where they could.

So, instead of joining the rest by the fire, they walked into a nearby tree and decided that today they would rest.

[composing-birdsong]

secret lore for the followers: gabriel’s ghost hunting thing wasn’t directly inspired by phasmophobia at first but it has been since I first watched it

[composing-birdsong]

We meet again!

You know by now, that this world is not what it seems, yes?

It would be impossible not to tell! These people are right up my alley, personally, but are they even people?

Are they?

…

Well, it’s your goal to research this place, so I’ll let you figure it out on your own this time.

Oh! That reminded me, I nearly forgot. I have a gift for you! Come on, open it!

…

Open it.

Yup! See, there’s the strings you can use to tie it with! I even made sure it was more suited to your form!

Why? Well, it wouldn’t be very nice of me to give a gift you cannot use-

You mean why give you one in the first place? 

I simply think it would suit you. And besides, it means you match me! Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we matched? People can tell you know me, maybe we’ll be partners in crime!

Ah, not that any of the residents of this world would truly care that much, save for a few.

…

I’ve told you, little sparrow, I can’t answer that. Simply not in my skill set! 

You know, you’re getting annoying. How long do you want to keep this up?

You’re out of chances.

I’m the last thing keeping you tethered to life. Without my help, you would have been dead. Gone. Perhaps you wouldn’t even exist at all.

Whatever failures you made before don’t matter to me. What matters is that you do what I need you to! Gotcha?

…

Eh, you’ll figure that out. I think you’re smart enough!

…

Right, I think I better be getting back to where I’m meant to be. Enjoy your gift! You’ll want to use it, just give it a try.

Remember to keep up a smile for the audience, little sparrow!

Ta-ta! 

[composing-birdsong]

unstoppable force (navy willis trying to figure out why Elias is helping her and her brother) vs immovable object (Elias who really does just want to help)

[composing-birdsong]

I WISH THAT I WAS DEAD I DON’T WISH I WAS DEAD BUT SOMEBODIES GOT TO GO

get a load of these guys

[composing-birdsong]

MEMENTO MORI

(bonus vers. under the cut)

(diff set of lyrics)

(no text)

[composing-birdsong]

[LOG 001]

I’m not exactly sure how to start writing this, so I guess I’ll just say whatever comes to mind.

Do you know how difficult it is writing this with one eye? Maybe if I still have this journal in a few months, I’ll get to see if I improve once I’m more used to it.

If I’m still alive. 

Honestly I don’t know why I’m writing this. I’ve never found a point in journaling before, but apparently it’s good for mental health and if I’m in this hell, I’ll take whatever I can get. 

Clockwork Present (maybe I’ll just say Clockwork)  is… I don’t know. He’s an asshole but he’s also oddly nice to me. He didn’t have to bring me back. He said that himself. 

But he did. And apparently I have something to do for him. He refuses to say what and it’s pissing me off, but I suppose I owe him. So I’ll do it.

He hasn’t given me an answer. When I asked what happened to Gabriel, when I met Clockwork after my death. He shrugged. 

I miss my son.

It’s all my fault. If I had just gotten my act together and said something to her sooner, maybe none of this would have had to happen. Maybe in another world, Gabriel is alive and I’m alive too, and I get to try to make it up to him. I’d give my whole life to try again, I really would. If he wanted me to.

If he never wanted to see me again, I suppose that would be fine also. I wish he would let me, but I’m not going to make him.

It’s been nearly three years. I still don’t know what killed him. Dory didn’t even know what killed him. He’s gone and if I had just been better I’d have been able to help. I don’t know. He’d have been nineteen now. 

I can’t keep thinking about him. As nice as it was for Clockwork to bring me back, he didn’t bring back my other wing. Among many other things, it means I have no more chances.

If I die, I die.

And this world wants me dead.

Yesterday, I decided I was going to try studying it. If Gabriel was here, I think he’d do the same. And it’s also just. weird? I guess? I don’t have any better way to describe it. Everything… shifts. On a whim. I don’t think this world is exactly right either. It just doesn’t sit right with me, and the several near death experiences sure aren’t helping.

I don’t have too many observations right now. I was never a scientist, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to do this, but I’ll probably use this journal to document anything else. I’ll see if I want to write more personal entries too, but maybe this is just a one time thing.

Either way, it’s been nice to get things out of my head a bit, so I don’t regret this.

[End of Log 001]

[composing-birdsong]

well, would you?

[composing-birdsong]

working on something…

[composing-birdsong]

trying to write a drabble and realising I didn’t name my weird fantasy species