#31 days of yeeting into the void | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cryptidvoidwritings · 3 years

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*yeets (this ridiculous, un-kinky thing) into the void*

Day 31: Anything you want! - 2100 words

There was a house on the hill at the edge of town that the villagers only ever spoke about in hushed whispers. The house was big; the largest house of any in the village. Everybody knew that the house was not right. It housed witches and monsters. Sometimes kittens went missing and nobody saw them again and it was accepted that when that happened, they’d been taken by the house.

“I’m gonna do it,” Pouncival announced.

He waited for the other kittens to pause their game, but only Plato looked up.

“Do what?” he asked kindly.

“I’m gonna go to the house on the hill.”

Everyone stopped. George dropped the can they'd been using as the keep-away ball. Jemima froze in midair and fell to the ground, dragging Tumblebrutus with her. Electra and Etcetera caught their balance on each other. Victoria stared at Pouncival with wide eyes, then Plato, then she tugged on Plato’s arm.

“He said ‘the hill’? Like the house up there?” she asked, alarmed, paws flying.

Plato nodded. His eyes never left Pouncival, though his ears pinned to his head. “You know that Jenny says we’re not supposed to go up there.”

“It’s just a house!” Pouncival said dismissively.

“Alonzo says it’s a house where witches and monsters live!” Etcetera squeaked.

“Alonzo is lying,” George said, rolling his eyes. “He just doesn’t want us to go because last year he was supposed to go do it and he chickened out.”

“But what if it’s really haunted?”

Pouncival and George scoffed. Pounce looked at George and grinned.

“You coming, then?”

“Me?” George squeaked.

“What, you chicken?”

“No!”

“Then you’re going, right?” Tumblebrutus asked.

“Y-yeah. Yeah, of course. I’m not scared. I just didn’t know that Pounce needed company.”

“I don’t need company, it’ll just be good to have more than one pair of eyes to prove it’s not haunted. It’ll be fun! We can totally mess with whoever lives there.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good idea,” Plato started.

“Oh c’mon, killjoy,” Tumblebrutus said, warming to the idea. “We should all go! It’ll be fun!”

“No way,” Electra said firmly. “You might want to get your hide tanned by auntie Jelly but I’m not going where mom says we’re not supposed to.”

“Don’t be such a girl,” Pouncival said, rolling his eyes.

“I... I am a girl, though?” Electra asked.

“You know what I mean! This’ll be an adventure! Come on, scaredy cat!”

Electra scoffed and hooked arms with Etcetera. “We don’t need to listen to this. You’re the ones who’re never gonna be allowed to leave the house. Come on, Cetty.”

“But I,” Etcetera started.

Tumblebrutus grabbed her paw. “You want to come with us, right?”

“Kinda. The house looks like it has a really nice garden.”

“Mama says it’s unnatural,” Electra reminded her.

“But couldn’t we see if we can find out why?” Jemima asked.

Plato groaned. “Guys, we really shouldn’t be thinking about this.”

“Killjoy!” Pouncival yelped.

George and Tumblebrutus took up the chant and eventually even Etcetera joined in, though she didn’t look like she knew exactly why. Victoria’s large blue eyes had gone wet; everybody was talking very quickly and none of them were signing for her. Plato noticed and immediately tried to summarize.

“What if we get killed?” Electra demanded.

“Then we’ll find out what’s really in the house before we do,” Tumblebrutus said.

Nobody stopped to think that that was probably not the best outcome and Plato was too busy completing his summary to Victoria to have heard it. Her eyes sparkled as he finished up. She grabbed his paws and squeezed excitedly, then bounded over to Pouncival.

“I want to go!”

Pouncival grabbed her in a hug. “We’re all going!”

Plato and Electra shared a long look. Plato sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Do you think we’re going to regret this?” she asked.

“Undoubtedly.”

“I think we’ll be fine,” Jemima said in her soft, dreamy voice. “The house garden has nice colors.”

Plato had never seen the color of a garden (did she mean flowers?) but he was not sure that they were necessarily a good enough trade-off for untimely death.

The house on the hill was big and wooden and not quite square. Turrets and towers leaned to the side and rattled in the wind. Nobody was entirely sure how long it had been there on the hill. It had certainly been there as long as any villager remembered. Old Asparagus the theater cat was the oldest and wisest of the village council and he remembered the house being fully built when he was a kitten. His parents never mentioned the construction of it, so it was assumed that it had been built even before them.

“We’re doomed,” Electra muttered.

Plato agreed. The speculation as to all the evil that must have happened in the house ran the gamut and the closer they got, the more Plato was quite sure that most of the suggestions were true. Jemima and Victoria skipped happily ahead of the group; farther ahead than even Pouncival and Tumblebrutus and George, who were all trying to push each other in front without looking like they were trying to stay behind. Etcetera was somewhere between the groups. She fidgeted with her paws.

“Why did we agree to this?” Plato asked rhetorically.

Electra did him the kindness of not offering an answer. The gate in the lane was closed. Plato blinked. The gate in the lane was slightly ajar. Plato squinted. The gate in the lane was open enough for any kitten to pass through easily.

“Did that just open?” he asked.

“What? No, it’s been like that,” Electra said.

“Are you sure?”

“... Yes.”

“You don’t sound sure.”

Electra shrugged. “Jem and Vic are already inside so I’m not sure it matters anymore. Cetty, c’mere okay?”

Etcetera gratefully grabbed Electra’s paw. Plato looked back to the gate and saw that Jemima and Victoria were indeed halfway into the thick brush that surrounded what Plato thought was a vegetable garden. How had the two gotten in so fast? He swore and ran forward, ignoring the three idiots who’d all started dragging their feet to avoid getting too close to the gate.

“Hey! Jemima! Vic! Don’t run off!”

But it was too late. They disappeared into the brush of the garden. Plato grabbed the gate fitfully.

“Bast. We have to get them back.”

“But what if they’re done for?” Pouncival asked. His voice shook.

Plato rounded on him. “Then your stupidity caused it. You egged them on!”

Pouncival shrank back into Tumblebrutus. The wind whipped through the group. Electra and Etcetera shivered. George scuffed his foot in the dirt of the lane. Plato squared his shoulders and took a long, fortifying breath.

“We’re going in.”

“But—.”

“We need to get them back.”

“But what if the owners—.”

“We’ll explain politely that we’re looking for our friends. Maybe they’ll just let us grab them and go. Didn’t you say that Alonzo was lying about witches and monsters?”

A long, mournful howl pierced the air. They all jumped, pressing in close to each other, wide-eyed when the silence reigned again.

“They have a dog,” Plato said.

“Are you—.”

“They have,” Plato bit out. “A dog.”

And with that, he marched through the gate.

“Hello, we’re looking for our friends,” Plato muttered.

“Why are you talking to yourself?” Tumblebrutus whispered.

“I’m practicing. Hello, our friends went in through your gate. We’re sorry. Hello. We lost our friends.”

The front doors loomed and dead leaves crunched underfoot. The wind moaned through what must have been an open window somewhere, dragging echoing hollow noises from the house. The lights had been off, he was pretty sure, but they were definitely on the closer they got. Everything was getting dark, but the sun had set so that was really only to be expected.

“I think the last one is probably best,” Etcetera said quietly. “We did lose them.”

“What if they want to know why we lost them on their grounds?” Tumblebrutus asked.

“We’ll have to tell the truth.”

They came to a halt in front of the massive double doors. The building creaked and groaned. None of them moved forward to knock.

“Well?” George looked at Pouncival. “Go knock.”

“Why should I go?”

“Because this was your idea!” Tumblebrutus hissed.

Electra grunted in annoyance. She passed Etcetera’s paw into Plato’s and went to the door. The knocker echoed unnaturally loudly over the windy night air. Plato pulled Etcetera in close. Electra scooted back and joined them. He swore he could hear footsteps echoing to the front. Was that music playing? Something heavy and metal clanked and clanged in the house. Plato swallowed. Etcetera trembled at his side and he was pretty sure Pouncival was about to faint. Plato tucked Etcetera behind him and Electra. The door creaked open. Pouncival and Tumblebrutus screamed.

“Excuse me?”

Two dark brown eyes glittered at them from a white face that wasn’t that much higher than Plato’s shoulders. Plato let out a breath, taking in an expression that was politely confused, and possibly a little amused. Plato tried to speak, choked on his bone dry throat, and had to swallow several times.

“Are you okay?” the short cat asked.

“Y— yeah, fine,” Plato gasped. He waved at Electra.

“We’relookingforourfriendstheyranintoyourgateandwelostthem,” she said in a long rush.

“Thank you,” the short cat said. Plato thought that maybe a smile was pulling at the corner of his lips, though his face gave nothing else away. “Now so I might understand?”

“We’re looking for our friends,” George said, his voice so faint that Plato thought he needed to reassess who was about to pass out.

“You’re looking for bookends? I’m sure we have some but—.”

“Who’re you torturing out there?”

Pouncival, Tumblebrutus, and George all screamed and tripped over each other as they attempted to run. From over the short cat’s head poked a bright gold head with a wild mane and tufted ears. He was taller than Plato and at least as broad in the chest and his eyes were a shade of pale aqua that Plato had never seen before. Plato’s heart started beating in double time.

“We appear to have some lost kittens,” said the small cat.

The gold cat grinned sharply. “Or some kittens who just happened to get lost about to ring and run on the big bad witches of the weird house?”

“Now, now, let’s be nice to them. I don’t see any toilet paper or eggs.”

Aqua eyes rolled to the sky and tufted ears flicked. “Well, that’s a first.”

The tall cat disappeared into the house and the small cat opened the door and stepped back, showing his tuxedo coat.

“Come on in,” the tuxedo said. “We’ve got snacks.”

“Jem! Your other friends are at the door,” shouted the tall cat from somewhere inside.

Plato looked at Etcetera, who looked at Electra, who looked at Pouncival, who looked at Tumblebrutus, who looked at George, who looked back at Plato. When Plato looked back at the door, Jemima barreled out and into Etcetera’s arms with a bright grin.

“You made it!”

“You know them?” Pouncival demanded.

“Of course I know Uncle Tugger and Mr. Mistoffelees,” Jemima said, rolling her eyes.

“Uncle?!” George and Electra repeated incredulously.

Plato could relate. They’d heard stories of Jemima’s rebel uncle who was forever getting on her father’s nerves, but only ever stories. There had been some speculation between the group that Jemima had made the rebellious uncle up because her life was very quiet and respectable and the most trouble Jemima had ever gotten into was getting too dirty when they played.

“I mean, I did tell you about him,” Jemima said primly.

“That you did. Where’s Victoria?” Plato finally asked once he’d hugged Jemima.

“In the library. She was showing off for Uncle Tugger. They might be making snacks now. Oh! Oh! Come on, Uncle Tugger makes the best biscuits.”

Plato and Electra looked at each other. As one, they nodded. They followed Jemima and Mistoffelees into the house, and the rest of the group was hot on their heels. The door shut with a loud bang that made them all jump and yelp.

Mistoffelees winced. “I keep forgetting it does that.”

“Have you been here long?” asked Etcetera.

“A few months. It’s an old family home, or so I’m led to believe,” Mistoffelees said. “It’s clearly fallen into disrepair but the bones are good and we’d like to fix it if we can. Call me Misto, if you like. Can I get anybody tea?”

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conceitedxglory-blog · 5 years

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Answer 21, Tag 21

Tagged by: @marigoldeneyes WOWOW I LOVE YOU BB THANK U

1. Nicknames: Poe, Poey, Poe-Go, Dweadski, Mon, Moni, and the list goes on. (Rule of thumb, if it starts with a “P” its my nickname).

2. Zodiac Sign: Aries!

3. Height: 5′5″ Inches

4. Hogwarts 🏠: Ravenclaw! (one inch from Gryffindor tho)

5. Last Thing I googled: The spelling and general knowledge on halberdiers. I needed to know for a character I was working on. :3

6. Favourite Musicians: Oh lawd, okay. I love all kinds of music from Britney Spears to Ramstein, I also have a strong liking to classic rock; however, if I had to list some favorite bands and musicians I’d say: Disturbed, Kamelot, Nightwish, Breaking Benjamin, Journey, and I have a weak spot for ELO (Electric Light Orchestra). Also ABBA. Can’t forget ABBA.

7. Song Stuck in My Head: “My Name Is Human” by Highly Suspect

8. Following Now: 30 (which might I add is insane??? I am barely active nowadays and am relatively a new blog??? Wowzers im love all of you).

9. Followers: 31

10. Do I Get Asks?: Whenever I reblog a meme I am shocked with how many people actually send some in and sometimes I get cute lil’ anons. I still love the one with Beauty and the Beast lyrics. :3

11. Amount of 💤?: Fuck, about like....5 or 6 hours I think? Depression often makes it vary.

12. Lucky Number: 10

13. What I’m Wearing: The majority of my clothes are black. I only ever wear a bit of red. BUT if you wanna know exactly what right now: tea pot themed pajamas. :)

14. Dream Job: Honestly............I just wanna make art. Maybe do comics or even just make money off traditional art would be nice, I love painting---especially with watercolor.

15. Dream Trip: travel scares me

16. Favorite Food: I’m kinda struggling with food, but steak fajitas are the bomb dot com.

17. Instruments: I used to play the violin really well until my orchestra teacher (freshmen year) verbally abused me and tried to force me out of the spring concert; unfortunately, I haven’t been able to pick it up since. I wanted to be a singer when I was younger, but I think I’m about as tone deaf as my muse and I was told my voice was really raspy and out of tune so....I kinda dropped playing music and singing all together, which isn’t right and I know I shouldn’t let those experiences get the best of me but...eh. Maybe one day when inspiration strikes, I’ll do it.

18. Languages: English and very broken German.

19. Favorite Song: “The Light” by Disturbed

20. Random Fact: I have always related to Rapunzel as a little girl because I felt trapped. My mom didn’t let me or my brother celebrate Halloween until we were teenagers, I spent the majority of my early years without friends or anywhere outside the house without literally begging to be taken somewhere, and visits to other family members involved one kind of drama or another. I also didn’t cut my hair until I was twelve and the only reason I did was because it was just uh...a little too much to handle. It went past my butt and long strands of brown were literally everywhere. xD

21. Aesthetic: Tarot cards, skulls, red and black, cute lil’ kitties and bunnies, typewriters (always wanted one!), the smell of sage, crystals, fire, witchy things, demons but like...cute ones, contrast between life and death, etc.

Tagging: @magicfordummies, @fadedintheflames, @humortremors, @rebclangcl, @brusquc, @nevivorona, AND surely theres more but....my brain is ehhhhhhhh not working right. Literally if you wanna do it then do it! Also apologies if anyone of you beans I tagged already did it, just kinda---toss this post into the void. Just yeet it. Sacrifice it to Cthulhu. It’s all good and no pressure at all.

#Mun info #(ooc)#(pwofehqo[wehoero[rh this was fun)#(thanks again for tagging me. I give many hugs through the screen)#(I am honestly so happy that peeps still tag me in stuff and want interaction #despite my slow activity)#(you beans are so pure and must be protected)

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