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wannabe-bella · 6 years

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Beca’s Side

Part 2 to “Your Side”

Beca’s Side

Slouching into the couch, Beca lets out a tired sigh from being stuck in the studio all day working on an upcoming artist's album. She lets her head rest on the cushion behind before picking up the remote and switching on the TV.

Scrolling through the channels for something to watch, she sighs from finding nothing. Deciding to check her phone instead, she clicks on Instagram only to be find that she's just reached 4 million followers.

"Jesus," She mumbles with a small smile before scrolling through the feed. Liking a few of her friend's pictures, she lets out a chuckle from seeing a picture that Jesse posted.

@jesseswanson

#tbt to the Barden days! Also, this is the only pic I have of @djbecamitchell smiling.

Liking it, she comments a quick, "You're a weirdo," before pausing to stare at the photo.

It was set back in Barden during their graduation day and it was of her, Jesse, Aubrey and Chloe being the centre of it.

Chloe.

There's a name she hasn't thought about in a while.

Okay, that's a lie.

She thinks about her every day.

Shaking her head, Beca carelessly chucks the phone to the opposite end of the couch before shutting her eyes.

"Beca, get over here!" Comes Jesse's voice stopping her mid-sentence. Glancing away from her dad, she looks over her shoulder to him.

"I'm in a conversation here!" She replies, twisting back to Dr. Mitchell only to see a small grin on his face.

"Go join them," He says, tapping her on the shoulder.

"You sure?"

"Yeah," He answers, "After all, you did hold up your end of the deal." He says before smiling wide, "Now look at you, you're a college graduate!"

With a short laugh, Beca nods, "Yeah, I am. But..." Trailing off, she smirks, "I recall you saying you'd help me get to LA."

"And I will," He promises before bringing her into a hug, "I'm so proud of you, Bec," He whispers into her ear before pulling back. His eyes now a little glossy. "Go have fun," He tells her.

And she doesn't need to be told twice.

Spinning on the spot, she looks around for her friends only to automatically catch bright red hair. With a smirk, she sneaks her way over to Chloe and without warning, wraps her arms around her from behind before kissing her on the cheek.

Letting out a loud squeak, Chloe twists around to find Beca standing in front of her. "Becs!" She squeals in delight, pulling her in for a quick kiss.

"Hey, there," The brunette grins, her hands going to the redhead's waist.

"We did it!" Chloe cheers in glee, wrapping her arms around Beca's neck.

"Yeah, we did," The DJ replies with a smirk.

"WE ARE THE KINGS OF CAPMPUS!" Comes the booming voice of Jesse from behind Chloe interrupting them. "Guys, get over here!" He gestures to them, wrapping an arm around Aubrey's shoulder.

"I'm seriously debating not going over there," Beca says making Chloe giggle.

Trailing her hands down the brunette's arms, the redhead grabs Beca's hand before dragging her over to them, "Come on."

Rolling her eyes, Beca begrudgingly stands beside her, sneakily snaking her arm around her waist while they wait for a picture of them to be taken. Glancing over, she catches Jesse's gaze who throws her an over exaggerated wink bringing a smile to her face.

SNAP!

Sitting up, Beca blinks her eyes open. Glancing around, she sees the shine of the moonlight through the window making her acknowledge that she hadn't napped for long.

Kicking her legs over the side of the couch, she leans her elbows on her knees before taking a deep breath.

Looking to the side, her phone catches her attention. Leaning over she picks it up only to see that it's left on the picture from the night before. While staring down at it, she notices that Chloe had left a comment on it 3 hours ago.

@acabeale

Ah! I miss these days!

That was all she wrote. A simple sentence. But seeing the name intrigues the brunette, considering it had been years since she last saw Chloe.

Her thumb hovers over Chloe's name before she decides to click on it.

Once being brought to her page, she can't help but roll her eyes as she sees that it's an open page. Nothing private about it.

"Typically, Chloe-" The brunette says but halts when her eyes focus on the latest photo uploaded. Tapping on it, she reads the caption.

@acabeale

So happy to be with him! @chicagowalp #6months

She's not sure as to why, but something inside Beca breaks as she looks over the picture. Chloe stands to the man's right, their hands joined, her smile bright and wide as they look at each other.

Beca's vision blurs a little, but she blinks it clear, and looks to the comments instead.

@chicagowalp So happy to be you! #6months

@stacie_conrad Aw! You guys are SO cute!

@aca_aubrey This is adorable. And yes, I did just say that.

Of course, Chloe would have moved on, Beca thinks. But it's not as if Beca hadn't dated since their breakup. In fact, the DJ had. She had tried the whole "dating thing" only to come up short. Beca didn't think it was fair on her partner to be with someone who didn't love them back, so she decided to end the relationship before things could get too serious.

Beca was faithful to her past partners, never wanted to hurt them... Whether it was intentionally or not.

That being said, she has had her fair share of one-night stands.

Shutting the phone off, she sets it aside before standing. Making her way to the kitchen, she grabs a bottle of water before taking a sip. As she sets the drink onto the counter, her eyes catch sight of the piano perched at the back of the apartment. Inspired, she makes her way over, taking a seat on the bench.

She lets her hands fall onto the keys, familiarizing them before drifting off into her own world. Playing a few chords, she mixes them around for a little before making a slow progression while tapping her feet to a beat.

Playing the chords over and over, she waits until she finds the right lyrics.

"But somethings changed Had a change of heart-"

Stalling, Beca glances at her hands as she focuses. Chewing on her lip, she continues the chord progression in hopes of a spurt of inspiration. Suddenly her mind is taken up of images of Chloe and Chicago and before she knows it-

"But somethings changed You had a change of heart"

Taking a breath, she plays the chords again before singing the next lyrics.

"If I can't have you every way, don't want to know you're wanting somebody else If I can't have you every way, I need to hear it, hear it-"

Letting her hands fall to rest on the keys, she opens her eyes not knowing when they'd closed. After a few moments of processing the song, she abruptly stands from the piano and hurries her way to her room. Seconds later, she returns only now with a black guitar in her left hand and a notebook in her right.

Setting the notebook on top of the piano, she quickly jots down the lyrics from earlier before sitting at the edge of the bench, perching the guitar on her lap.

Strumming the chords from the piano, she hums along to the lyrics she wrote.

"This doesn't work!" She huffs, moments later, sounding frustrated.

In her frustrated state, she continues to strum the guitar as she thinks back to the night of the breakup. She hates how it went. She hates how Chloe never let her explain. But most of all, she hates how she let Chloe get away.

Glancing to the fretboard, she watches her fingers change from chord to chord and taking a deep breath, she lets the lyrics flow.

"But somethings changed

You had a change of heart

I'd told you I would come back home,

Cuz I know you hate to be alone...

But somethings changed

Instead of kissing you, I'm kissing strangers

Always listen but I'll never learn

Shoulda' been hanging on your every word

I was taking you for granted, never realized the danger

And now I took too long

And now she's gone

If I only knew right from wrong

She'd be right back in my arms..."

Strumming for a few bars she waits before continuing.

"If I can't have you every way, don't want to know you're wanting somebody else

(all I got is you)

If I can't have you every way, I need to hear it, hear it

(all I got is you)

I always meant to hold you closer

But I don't always do what I'm supposed to

Now you're slipping through my fingers and I don't know what to do

And I keep hoping you call back

Can we forget about the past?

Cause baby all I really want is you

And now I took too long

And now she's gone

If I only knew right from wrong

She'd be right back in my arms"

Closing her eyes, Beca strums the guitar with more force, adding dynamic and more passion to the song before singing the chorus.

"If I can't have you every way, don't want to know you're wanting somebody else

(all I got is you)

If I can't have you every way, I need to hear it, hear it

(all I got is you)"

Opening her eyes, she strums the guitar softly this time, when her eyes catch sight of the clock on the wall.

"4am and I cannot say goodbye

Crawling back home, I'd do anything for you

And I'm sitting up awake and now I can't forget you and I don't know what to do"

Letting her hand fall to her lap, she sings the last few bars with no guitar, just Beca and her voice.

"And now I took too long

And now she's gone

If I only knew right from wrong

She'd be right back in my arms..."

6 Months Later

Feeling a tickle run up her spine, Beca smiles, "Good morning," She mumbles from laying on her stomach before twisting her head to the right to find sparkling green eyes staring down at her.

"Morning, babe," The girl says, continuing to run her hand up and down the brunette's back. "How was your sleep?"

"Uh, uneventful," Beca replies, "Nothing too exciting, got trapped in a maze at one point." She adds causing the other girl to chuckle.

"You're adorable," The green-eyed beauty states with a grin, leaning down to capture Beca's lips in her own.

After writing the song, Beca had finally come to terms with the breakup. In a way, she thinks it did her good. It helped her express her feelings, raw and venerable and in the most Beca way imaginable. Music.

It freed her, she likes to think.

She can finally put Chloe behind her, to move on, to learn from past mistakes.

And not long after writing it, she met the girl she's currently with. Chelsea. The pair met in a coffee shop and hit it off immediately and for the first time in years, Beca is genuinely happy.

Chelsea was the opposite of Chloe, look wise. Chelsea had long flowy dark hair with light green eyes, her music taste was awesome (Beca's words) and was an all-round nice person. Of course, she knew who Beca was, which had worried the DJ at first, but after a while of getting to know each other, she realized there was nothing to stress over. Chelsea treated her as a normal person, not some DJ sensation.

Breaking the kiss, Beca looks at the girl above her, "How are you so pretty?" She asks as her gaze flicker over her facial features.

"I could ask you the same thing," Chelsea replies with a wink.

"Smooth," Beca chuckles when suddenly the alarm on her phone blares off interrupting them and causing her to let out a groan. "Ugh." Stretching her arm out, Beca taps at the screen until it shuts off. "Guess I gotta get up now," She says with a dramatic sigh.

"Yep. Gotta go make some dope music." Her girlfriend says making her cringe.

"I should've never said that word around you." Beca states before sitting up. Stretching out her limbs, she goes to move the comforter away but instead finds herself being pulled back in and lips landing on her own.

Strolling her way toward the record label she works for, Beca takes a sip of the coffee in her hand before pushing on the door. Entering the building, she greets her co-workers before sliding into her office.

Setting the coffee aside, she takes a seat in her desk chair and boots up the computer. While she patiently waits, she hears her phone ting and picking it up, she sees that Chelsea has tagged her in an Instagram post.

@its_me_chelsea

Look at this cutie! @djbecamitchell

She rolls her eyes at the photo of Beca herself sleeping, head on the desk, at her home studio in her apartment.

Going to the comments, she types out a, "When did you take this?" Before switching off the device.

Her attention is then brought to the boring task of replying to emails. Quickly doing that, she decides to browse through her past mixes and songs when one catches her eye.

It's simply titled, "All I Got."

She knows she shouldn't click on it.

But she does.

"But somethings changed

You had a change of heart

I'd told you I would come back home

Cuz I know you hate to be alone

But somethings changed

Instead of kissing you, I'm kissing strangers

Always listen but I'll never learn

Shoulda' been hanging on your every word

I was taking you for granted, never realized the danger

And now I took too long

And now she's gone

If I only knew right from wrong

She'd be right back in my a-"

Before the song can continue, Beca hears three faint taps come from the door making her pause. Gathering her thoughts, she quickly X's out of the folder before mumbling out a, "Come in!"

Taking a sip from her coffee, she taps her finger along the desk as she waits for her visitor to make an appearance.

At first, she thinks she's seeing things... but then again, who is she kidding?

She could catch that hair a mile away.

If some of you are a little annoyed with Chloe not letting Beca explain, I was annoyed with that too. But Chloe, I think, is someone who overreacts to certain situations. Hence the sudden move to break up with Beca.

Also, I added this Chelsea chick in because I didn't want Beca to be lonely for the full 12 months that Chloe was with Chicago.

The song which Beca wrote is actually two songs combined which I found, they're:

Anki - All Or Nothing feat. NEAVV, With October

Said The Sky - All I Got With Kwesi

#bechloe #Beca x Chloe #Pitch Perfect #beca mitchell #chloe beale

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chaos-weekly · 3 years

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carrot boy

It felt like a spaghetti night. Zion was pulling a saucepan and a knife out of his cabinets, setting them on the counter while he grabbed ingredients. He was in a fog. It was well past midnight, the guests in his tiny living room were hungry and exhausted, and they needed something warm and familiar in their stomachs. You didn’t need to be familiar with the food industry or cooking to come up with that, but fortunately for his three visitors, Zion was, even if he was just a good cook and not a professional chef. Even more fortunately, he always kept the ingredients for homemade pasta sauce on hand. It was a comfort food and ridiculously easy to make, which was perfect for evenings ranging from late nights after a shift at the bar or finding out that your brother-in-law recently murdered a twenty-one year old kid.

Sure, Zion didn’t know for sure that it was Magnus who had killed Dante. But he definitely knew about it. He definitely sanctioned it. He was definitely guilty as h-ll. It was taking a lot of willpower to not run to Eden and tell her everything he’d learned in the past hour, but they needed to keep a low profile. It would be impossible to avenge Dante if they were dead.

What made this all even worse was that he was living in Magnus’s backyard in the mother-in-law suite he and Eden had built for his parents’ health went downhill. Zion had made Thorn park his bike a distance away and walk (which the man was clearly annoyed about, but only grunted in response), but he would certainly be suspicious of the fact that Micah Algheiri was at his house at one in the morning. Next time they’d have to meet somewhere else.

Next time. It felt odd saying that, but he was in this for the long haul now. If he wasn’t solving this with them… well, the incriminating photos on his phone would probably get him wrapped up in this in a more unfortunate manner.

Indy walked into the kitchen to refill her water glass, getting tap water straight from the sink, eyeing Zion as if she knew he had something to say. If he was going to tell anyone, it should be her. She was good with computers; she’d know what to do with the pictures.

“Earth to Zion,” she said, hoisting herself up onto the counter adjacent to him. “You look like you’re in outer space. What’s up?”

He looked over at her and then glanced into the living room. Thorn and Micah were engulfed in a rather uncomfortable silence. He didn’t want them to hear this. Scratch that— he didn’t want Micah to hear this. Thorn had heard, and seen, much worse. But if Micah knew what he had on his phone, what he’d done without so much as a second thought… that would destroy her. So, silently, he passed Indy his unlocked phone. She swallowed hard as she swiped through the photos, making him immediately regret his decision. Zion had forgotten that Dante had been more than just a friend to her. He reached to take his phone back instinctively, but she pulled back.

“It’s fine, Zion, I’m fine,” she said as if saying the words aloud would make them true. “This was a smart thing to do.”

Zion appreciated her for not asking why.

“I want them gone,” he whispered. “I can’t have them on any of my stuff, not if I’m living this close to Magnus.”

“Yeah, sure. You can just email them--,” she began, only to be cut off by Zion hissing:

“I can’t f-cking email them, Indy. Do you really think that’s safe?”

“Well, God, do you think I know the first thing about any of this bullsh-t?” she snapped back, glancing over to see if anyone was watching in the living room, meeting Thorn’s eyes, and looking back at Zion angrily. “I have eighty percent of a computer science degree and zero experience hacking anything. I’m no expert. Not even close.”

“Well you figured out how to break that code. That was pretty impressive,” Zion said, instantly trying to backpedal when faced with her rage. He’d always been more a firefighter than a firestarter, but it appeared that his best efforts were failing miserably.

“And I’m going to figure this out, too,” she stated firmly, unwavering in anger. “But Jesus, give me a break.”

Thorn was in the doorway with Indy’s backpack and the flashdrive Dylan brought from Dante’s apartment. Sighing, she snatched both from his hands and made her way to the kitchen table to figure out an untraceable way to send messages.

“Smells good in here,” Thorn said, grabbing the spatula Zion had been using to stir the pasta sauce and giving it a careful stir.

“Thanks,” he muttered, not in the mood for conversation.

“So what was on the phone?”

“Pictures I needed deleted.”

“D-ck pics or…?”

“God, no,” Zion said loudly, shocked. He could see Micah look up from the book she was reading. His cheeks were pink. Thorn was chuckling, Micah had gone back to her book, and he swore he could hear Indy snickering from the kitchen table.

“Yeah, there better not be any on here. I don’t want to see that,” Indy replied, confirming his nightmare.

“She’s a beer can girl anyway,” Thorn said confidently, clapping Zion’s shoulder and moving past him to open the fridge and pulling out a few bottles of locally brewed beer. “Speaking of-- who wants some of this hippie sh-t?” Indy put up her hand and he tossed her one.

“Who said I was a carrot?” Zion asked, questioning if he had explicit pictures in his camera roll. He grabbed a beer from Thorn’s hand, then moved to strain the pasta. Thorn shrugged in response.

“What’s going on in here?” Micah asked, plucking the last bottle from Thorn’s hand. Thorn moved to sit down at the kitchen table, eyes fixed on Indy’s clicking fingers.

“Zion’s got a carrot d-ck,” Indy told her, plugging away more rapidly at the keys, under pressure from her onlooker and the arrival of Micah. Micah looked thoughtful, then nodded.

“I believe it,” she said, grinning teasingly at Zion. He groaned.

“Can we please go back to talking about how Indigo never denied that she’s a beer can girl?” he requested.

“Oh, yes please,” Micah said, smirking.

“Yeah, whatever,” Indy said, waving a hand. “Beer can, carrot. It’s all the same.”

“Oh?” Thorn asked, eyes moving from Indy’s fingers to her face.

“Yep,” she said, looking up and directly at the man across from her. “Disappointing.”

Thorn just shook his head, but Zion and Micah were losing it in the kitchen. It had been a while since Zion had laughed this hard. It felt good. It felt good to laugh. And it felt good to have friends again.

“What’s happening over here?” Micah asked after a post-laugh sigh. She was moving towards them.

“Routine maintenance,” Indy lied casually. “Zion got a bug on his phone and he asked if I could get it off.” She shut the lid of her laptop, grabbed the phone, and walked over to Zion.

“It’s fixed, stupid. Don’t make me do that again with such short notice.” Zion smiled at her gratefully.

“Thanks, Indy,” he said. She just smiled and shrugged in return.

And Micah didn’t know a thing. Some things were better off as secrets.

“I’m starving,” Micah announced.

“Well I just finished, so load up,” Zion said, pulling plates and forks out. “It’s hot.”

And the rest of the evening progressed easily. They’d agreed not to look at the flashdrive tonight. It was too late. Instead, they just sat around the table and got to know each other.

They’d be spending a lot of time together.

#salemsville shenanigans

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shinobicyrus · 7 years

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“Tooth and Claw”

Haven’t written much Phandom stuff lately, so I thought I’d try something for this year’s Ectober. This one’s for October 26th: TEETH

It was probably a bad sign how long it took for Tucker to figure out which of the tech in his bag was beeping. Had to crouch over it on the sidewalk sifting through a tablet, an old phone, his backup battery charger, two different generations of game boys, his backup-backup charger; Sam always warned him he was slowly sliding down a slippery silicon slope into pseudo-hoarding.

He found the culprit near the bottom of the bag: a Fenton ecto-scope tangled up in some old cables for a model of PDA he…didn’t actually own anymore. Sam must never know.

It was a cobbled-together monster made from grave-robbing radio-shacks and amateur soldering kits. Taking it out of the bag only made it vibrate and beep more urgently. The scope took some finagling with a few stuck knobs and dials before the static on screen resolved into something informative: the pixelated silhouettes of trees and a cold-spot slithering past them in toxic, neon green.

Tucker lowered the scope and squinted down the block. The park was that way. Damn. Rustling through his pockets, he pulled out his main phone and pinged Danny on the secure messenger app they’d set up for Phantom stuff- because it wasn’t paranoia when the government really was hunting you down.

GROUPCHAT: WHO YA GONNA CALL? (THE D)

You: Code Green in the park You: class idk whatever the hell AW SHIT THAT’S BIG is Danny: ok I can be there in 8 Danny: keep your head down till I get there

Tucker typed back ‘You know me,’ and added a scardey-faced emoticon.

Danny: :/ You: I choose to interpret that as loving concern for my safety You: don’t text and fly have you learned nothing from the billboard incident You: such a bad role model You: Thing of the kids You: *think You: Plz hurry

Tucker pocketed his phone before Danny remembered the talk-to-text feature. Or if Sam logged on. Like he needed their reminders not to try stuff solo. He was fully capable on standing on a streetcorner like a good sidekick and wait for the big kids to come and-

A scream cut through the night, echoes elongating on concrete and broken asphalt.

From the park.

Where the monster-ghost was.

Tucker groaned. “Aw hell,” and ran down the street towards it.

Being a technophillic pseudo-shut-in whose primary mode of exercise was patrolling haunted warehouses and fleeing for his life, Tucker was pretty unfamiliar with the park. The light from the scattering of streetlamps following the paths was too few and far between, and the shadows from the trees offered too many places for an attack to come from. Honestly, even without the ghost this place was a deathtrap.

But whatever, he was committed. He had a Fenton wrist blaster raised and trained on anything that sounded bigger than a grasshopper while he followed the chiming ectoscope.

It all resembled a scene from one of Sam’s Femalien movies a little too close for comfort: the squad of buff, hypermasculine space marines of the spacepatriachy, gung-ho and completely unaware how quickly their collective space-asses were about to get wrecked.

He kept walking. The ectoscope pinged faster. Danny said eight minutes, right? And that was…not eight minutes ago, but sooner than it was earlier. All he had to do was rescue the nice human people from being chewtoys and preferably not get full-ghosted himself.

A twig snapped. Tucker almost shot a startled rabbit, eyes shining on the edge of a streetlight. It hopped away until it melted into the long shadows of the mini-woods.

“This is a good plan,” Tucker decided. Out loud. On the record.

Further down the path, where the path looped around a copse of trees and the scarce light flickered weakly, Tucker heard another scream.

He ran towards it. Look out, creatures of the netherworld, it’s a coward with a guuuun!

Around the bend, the lights were completely out, smothered and snuffed by a low buzzing hum that smelled like ozone and made the ectoscope sputter into a snowstorm of static. There was still plenty of light to see by. Sick, witch-cauldron green radiating from the ghost swimming ethereally in the air like a giant watersnake, only segmented, SUV-sized, and a head that was more a gaping chasm of sawteeth than actual head.

That sarlacc mouth was perfectly sized to swallow up a lady in jogger clothes, who was pretty much paralyzed with fear…or maybe it was some kind of hypnotic gaze? Maybe that was what the noise was: lulling the prey just long enough to send them to the Boba-Fett Place.

Tucker threw the ectoscope aside, braced the arm with the wrist-blaster, and shot right down the thing’s ugly mouth.

The low buzzing in the air cut off into a gurgling screech. It reared up, spitting up ecto-bile and vaporized gullet. Tucker’s next two shots hit along its body, making it spasm mid-air like a breathless fish to crash writhing into the grass.

“Wha-?” The lady said, either broken by the spell or just plain baffled by daring rescue. Tuck ran up to stand between her and the ghost, blaster at the ready.

“Just go, I’ll hold it off!” Tucker yelled over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be-”

Annnddd she was already gone. Oh wow she could really book it. Guess that explained the jogging shorts. Still.

“What, not even half a second of hesitation?!” Tucker yelled at the receding sound of her shoes. “I know I told you to run, but jeez, a little concern for- oh hi you’re up.”

The baby shai-hulud had risen back up, not floating but still long enough to cast a shadow over him. From that close, its outraged roar smelled a little like sun-rotted roadkill.

“Okay, you’re a little mad, I hear you,” Tucker leveled the blaster at it. “But here’s my rebuttal.”

Then the blaster didn’t fire.

Tucker rapidly thumbed the firing switch again. A third time. The blaster shuddered a bit on his wrist, made an sad, tired electric whine. It sounded too much like a whomp whomp on helium.

“Uh…I don’t suppose you’d let me find someplace to plug this in?” He yelped and dove to the side when the ghost lunged at him. “AH! Guess that’s a ‘no’!”

Oh God how had he thought this was a good plan.

Tucker ran, pulled out every stop he knew from years of tactically fleeing horrifying undead monsters. Thankfully however he’d hurt it before kept it from flying after him, and it didn’t seem smart enough to phase through the trash cans, streetlights, and park benches that got in its way. Or maybe it was just super pissed.

Somehow he managed to pull out his phone in the middle of a zigzag, checked the time. Another three minutes? Two? Like Danny was ever freaking on time for anything in his half-life. “Call Danny!” He yelled.

The phone showed him a profile pic of Danielle and Tucker cosplaying at last year’s nerd-con. “Calling ‘DANI’…”

“Wrong one stupid clone-racist phone! CALL DANNY!”

“Calling ‘DADDY…’“

“How the fuck even?!”

Technology you’ve failed me. I’ve shown you nothing but allegedly obsessive love and you do me like that.

The ghost’s glow cast behind him warned Tucker just in time to skid beneath a low-branch and let it ram into the tree instead. Wood crunched and he shuddered thinking of being chewed and ground down to the bone between those teeth.

It was okay, the plan was going great. He was still alive, stalling for time. Danny would get here, follow the sound of ghost roars and Tucker’s manly not-panicking screams, thermos the worm, then grab some nice post-hunt midnight bro-grub and crack jokes about how Tucker almost got eaten by-

Something snagged his ankle, cutting Tucker’s speed from adrenaline-fueled to face-meets-ground with gravity-speed. Screw you too, psychics.

He managed to throw up his arms in time to shield his face. Pain lanced up his forearm and burned scraps into his palms. His glasses where askew, the world gone crooked and blurred. Neck twisted to follow the cold, wet feeling slowly dragging him through a bed of dead leaves.

A long, slick glowing tendril coming from the ghost’s mouth pulled him closer and closer into its waiting maw. The hum turned into hungry, gleeful gurgles.

Oh. This was. This was not in the plan.

Tucker dug his raw hands into the ground, dragging fistfuls of leaves and wet dirt. The light from his phone screen was just an arms length ahead, pulling away, no matter how much he kicked and scrambled and tried to pull himself forward. He thought there’d be more screaming and babbling on his end. Instead he was focusing every molecule of air on breathing, trying to get his crappy body Sam used for workout fodder to fight, stop that grinding progress towards it.

He was close enough to kick it, watch its expectant slobber dribble on his ripped cargo pants. Stupidly, he adjusted his glasses; got a nice, non-blurry view of that garbage disposal mouth, a hungry pit lined with thumb-sized teeth he could reach up and touch.

Tucker’s entire life, the whole of him, boiled down to this. He always figured his last thoughts would be of his mom, crammed between Sam and Danny on his too-small bed binging bad anime, the way Ingrid bit her lip nervously before she decided to give him his first kiss.

Instead, he just swallowed and said: “Oh Grandmother, what big teeth you have.”

Jesus, good thing no one was around to hear that.

“LASU LIN IRI!”

A furious growl tore through the trees- a wrecking ball of black and green slammed into the side of the ghost-worm. It reared up and shrieked with pain, the tendril around Tucker’s ankle somehow slack and severed.

The smart thing would be to move. Tucker numbly continued to sit there, jaw hanging as his rescuer clung to the side of the ghost-worm and tore into it with massive claws.

“Wulf?”

The ghost-worm bucked and wiggled, then body-slammed itself into the ground, forcing Wulf to leap off and land on all fours. His eyes were solid green and burning, snarling something in ghost Tucker couldn’t catch. They went at each other, tearing the small forest around them apart. The worm’s hide was pierced and bleeding in a dozen places, but it had desperation and a metric fuckton of bulk to throw around.

Wulf took cover in the trees, leaping from branch to branch, constantly circling and taking advantage of every opportunity to claw at its blind spots (how did it see though? did it even have eyes where the hell were its eyes?). Tucker realized his mistake when it dawned on him how much energy Wulf was wasting trying to keep that thing’s attention off of him, how Wulf was trying to protect him.

The worm must have realized it at the same time. Tucker saw it coming, tried to yell and warn him, but it came too fast- Wulf was blindsided by the worm’s tail end, flew and hit the trunk of a tree and went down hard. Pulled himself up with strain shaking his shoulders.

The worm let out a skree of victory and hurled itself towards Wulf. Faster than Tucker could shout, he saved himself by cutting a portal into solid air and diving in just before the worm hit, flattening itself and splintering the tree like a brittle toothpick.

It rolled and flopped on the ground, like it was having some kind of tantrum. Pulling itself back up, its mouth-head swiveled around, searching for some sign of Wulf, until it settled back on Tucker.

“Don’t look at me, I don’t know where he went.”

A muffled, tearing noise came from somewhere in the worm’s middle.

“Nevermind.”

Wulf burst out of worm’s midsection claws first with a howl, an explosion like a sledgehammer to a watermelon that splattered Tucker and everything in sight with green. The worm didn’t even have any breath left inside, much less insides at all, to even make a dying noise as it fell over like a deflated hose.

Panting, splattered with goopy green chunks on his claws and in his fur, Wulf stood in the clearing and panted hard. His eyes were still narrowed and dangerous, ears flat against his big head and hackles raised. Tucker had forgotten how big he was, half again as tall with enough shoulder width and muscle that would have brought Dax Baxter to weep impotent tears.

“Uh…Wulf? You okay buddy? Amiko?”

Wulf’s ears shot up, the hunch in his shoulders straightening as he spun around to look at Tucker with huge, concerned eyes. “Amiko Tuck!”

He dove at him, predator fast, and before Tucker could even flinch Wulf’s huge paws picked up Tucker and held him at Wulf’s eye-level. “Ĉu vi estas bone? Ĉu ĝi vundis vin?” His muzzle scrunched adorably as he sniffed Tucker up and down.

“Ah-ah!, that tickles! Haha- okay okay I’m fine, man. Ne…ne- nenio estas rompita.” He smiled with a split lip. “Danke al vi.”

“Sed,” A paw easily braceleted around Tucker’s wrist. “Viaj manoj…”

“Just a scrape man, really,” Tucker assured him. “It could have been- would have been a hell of a lot worse.”

Wulf’s left ear flicked, then looked pointedly at Tucker’s hands. Shaking like leaves in Wulf’s grip. It hurt his palms for Tucker to clench his fist, but it stopped the worst of the shakes. There was nothing he could do to stop the shaking in his heart, how hyperaware he was of his own pulse, the distant but twinging pain in arm, his ankle. The pressure behind his eyes.

“Please don’t tell Danny and Sam?” He asked, voice a little weaker. “I-I don’t want them to know how close it was. They’d only get worried.”

“Por bona kialo,” Wulf reprimanded him gently.

“Please? Bonvolu?”

It was funny to see a wolf’s brow furrow with deep thoughts, until finally Wulf hugged Tucker tight to his chest. A giant, fuzzy, protective barrier he could wrap his arms around.

“Thanks Wulf, you’re the best.”

“I know,” he managed, then touched his big, wet nose Tucker’s.

Heat flooded his face. “Oh my God did you just give me a dog-kiss? Is that a thing you just did?”

“Not dog,” Wulf corrected him. “Lupo.”

“You are missing the point of-”

“Tucker!” A voice dropped in from the sky.

Of course this is when Danny would get here. This is his life, this is what he deserves.

Danny floated above the torn up ground and pulverized trees and gaped at the slowly melting leftovers of the ghost-worm. “What the hell- what is Wulf doing here?”

Tucker crossed his arms across and played up snuggling against Wulf’s ghost-hoodie. Not like they weren’t both covered in worm-goop anyways. “Lucky for me you’re not the only ghost-friend I have and this one is both cuddlier and more reliable.”

“I thought I told you to sit tight until I got here!”

“An innocent midnight jogger with bad judgement and possibly insomnia was in danger. What was I supposed to do, ask it to hold up until the real hero showed up?”

That seemed to cut off whatever else Danny was planning to say. “I. There was- yeah okay that’s fair. Good work, Tuck.”

Wulf and Tucker cleared their throats.

“Both of you. Thanks for having Tucker’s back, Wulf.”

Wulf shrugged, “Ne dankinde. Tucker havis ĝin sub kontrolo.”

“I’m…going to assume that means ‘you’re welcome.’“

“Dude,” Tucker said. “Duolingo. Esperanto ain’t that hard.”

“Iz not.” Wulf said. “English.”

Danny and Tucker both laughed at the smug look on Wulf’s face.

“Well you two look thoroughly disgusting,” Danny said. “Want to skip the traditional after-hunt bro-snack and get you home to get cleaned up?”

“Hell no,” Tucker said mutinously. “Wulf and I can go back to the apartment to get cleaned, you can pick up some burgers for all three of us for being late.”

Wulf’s tail swished away some stray leaves behind him “Burgers?”

Danny blanched at the thought of paying for enough food to satisfy two grown men and a giant werewolf-ghost, but between Tucker’s guilt-trip look and Wulf’s puppy eyes, he sighed. “Okay, okay fine, I’ve got food duty. But he stays in your room until you two get that crap off you. I don’t want the whole apartment smelling like double-dead worm monster and wet dog.”

“Lupo,” They said together. Wulf’s ears perked and he grinned at Tucker with a mouthful of fangs.

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rspax · 5 years

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The Silence and the Wind

When I look around the complicated American landscape of news, politics, and social media, and I do so more than I will admit, I find it exhausting. Tiring in the sense of an addiction, where I need something more fulfilling, more ambitious, like God and Jesus showing up in tandem to set the world afire. Not being particularly religious, I'd probably not pay attention to their facebook posts, unless they posted some pics of heaven and hell. That might set my world ablaze, until I started reading the comments. But that's people for ya! All in disagreement, with their own opinions, each a raindrop in a thunderstorm, contributing to a flood of confusion, sweeping truth away with the receding waters. And that's OK, I have dreams. If the world was ordered, and nice, and perfectly symmetrical, I'd have no need for dreams.

Dreams are powerful game changers. MLK and Kennedy had dreams, one unfulfilled, but still in motion. The other touched, abandoned, and left to the ages as a singular achievement. Neither forgotten, still relevant, foundations for the following days. America was built on dreams, our declaration was one of freedom from tyranny, our constitution, a single dream, coagulated from many voices, out of many, we are one. Dreams are essential to progress, the bedrock upon which the next step is planted, individually or collectively. We take the next step in our journey, because we dream of seeing the undiscovered country. We'll never step on that soil, because dreams are fluid, being indicative of who we are. A million voices all screaming their differing dreams at any given time.

I remember when the night was silent, the only voices in my head was Cronkite's, and my local paper. That silence was peaceful, the quiet of the night, and there existed no harbinger of future dreams turned inside out, of a people embroiled in a living nightmare. There is imperfection in silence, in that you do not hear the coming winds of change, being blind to your neighbor crying out in pain, to changing ideas, differing thoughts, and when those winds rush across and fill the void of silence, we're left battered, and bruised, and dreaming of the silence we once cherished. Given the choice, I would appreciate the solitude of existing in a vacuum, tending the gardens of my personal dreams, and while there are those who reside in that choice, I'm conscious of the illusion of independence it gives birth to. A lonely, unfulfilled state of happiness where one sets on the same barstool, in the same bar, with the same bartender over the course of their lifetime. A life comprised of nothing greater than their own personal agenda, with no dialogue other than their own, no sense of thought for others than their own, no dreams larger than their own.

Few of my dreams have came to fruition, I'm not a well respected writer, my kids don't have college degrees, my retirements going to be tough, I'm not popular on youtube, there's no moonbase, and as a society, we haven't ushered in a era of equality, peace and prosperity. While all that is bothersome, it's more normal, unaccomplished dreams, that is, than those realized. I'd like to think, due to the failure of my own dreams, I've learned to listen to the voices in the wind, as agonizing as that landscape can be. I've been moved to research topics, to dig deeper for truth, to appreciate the views and beliefs of others, and I've been astonished at scientific achievements. I am continually in awe of the world I live in, even when I find myself tired, and confused with that world. I'll take it over the void.

#blogs #bloggers #opinion writing

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punkscowardschampions · 5 years

Text

Edie & Nancy

Edie: here then is it? Nancy: Yeah Nancy: Do you wanna see some pics? Edie: nah Edie: saw the socials Nancy: They're both okay, like Edie: Obvs, McKenna, reckon they'd bother to hmu if they were dead Edie: cheers then Nancy: There's a huge difference between alright and dead Nancy: I'm just saying Edie: not to me Nancy: Do you want me to tell anyone anything or? Edie: do what u wanna Edie: everyone busy Nancy: They aren't that busy Nancy: It's a baby not a bomb threat Edie: she ain't that special Edie: least they were expecting that alien looking thing this time Edie: progress Nancy: Barely but you know Nancy: Feels like a giant step back if anything Edie: 🙄 Edie: gutted for you Nancy: No you aren't, so don't bother with any of it Edie: obviously not Nancy: Is there anything else you actually wanna know/say 'cause I'm not good at this Nancy: Let's not pretend I am Edie: you rude as fuck Nancy: And what, you're the only one allowed? Edie: i ain't done anything to you but nah feel pressed Edie: u love it Nancy: You've disappeared and everyone is worried. You don't care about that but I do Nancy: So sorry if I don't wanna indulge it, like Edie: only got time for your sads? Edie: joke Nancy: I wish Nancy: We'd all love to run away Nancy: But some of us have to actually stick around Edie: boohoo Edie: dry Edie: what good u think u are mckenna Nancy: Go away again, Edie Nancy: I don't need this Nancy: Nobody does Edie: 😂 Edie: u ain't got nothing but problems you made up cos ur boring Edie: same as her, fucking drew the only excitement she ever had Nancy: Thanks for the therapy session Edie: mommy issues, next Nancy: You're such a cliche Nancy: At least give me one I haven't heard a million times before Edie: ok miss i want my teacher to pipe me Edie: act superior some more it funny Nancy: I'll be here all week Nancy: And longer Edie: whatever Edie: no u wont but run your mouth all u want Edie: u all talk a big game Nancy: Some of us do bother to say what we mean Nancy: Shockingly Edie: nah Edie: you out in a few months max Edie: the only one that always here is him and he always will be Nancy: Going to uni doesn't make me a ghost Nancy: Keeping in touch is easy if you want to Edie: like u ain't already Edie: oh babe Nancy: You don't know me Edie: who wants to Nancy: Plenty of people Edie: yeah like i say Edie: making up problems done wonders for ur cred Edie: least they talking yeah Nancy: Like I said, you don't know me Edie: u wish Edie: transparent Nancy: I really don't Nancy: I've dealt with enough bitches already thanks Edie: 😥 Edie: nawh Nancy: You wanna talk shit to me some more, go ahead Nancy: Nice to know you're still alive at least Edie: always with the self-pity, ain't a good look fyi but go off Nancy: You'd know Edie: i'm the only one celebrating this thing birth not comiserating Edie: poor fuck Nancy: Congrats, like Nancy: Go do that and leave me alone Edie: nah Nancy: I'm ignoring you now Edie: sure Edie: like u can Nancy: Literally always have Edie: yeah why u had to run here init Edie: so strong Edie: so like ur mummy Nancy: I'm not strong and it ain't news Edie: hoping playing damsel get u some Edie: who ain't Edie: cute Nancy: No, I just know myself Nancy: You can't hurt me by pointing out my flaws, babe. I'm aware Edie: who trying Edie: no need Edie: ready to cry over nothing always Nancy: Keep talking like you know about it Nancy: It just shows how much you don't Edie: so mysterious Edie: so guarded Edie: now u wishing Nancy: You're just putting words in my mouth now Nancy: You wish you knew me well enough to call me out Nancy: I'm not my brother, sorry. I don't wanna flirt with you Edie: i already said Edie: no one tryna know u babe Edie: least of all him Edie: comorbidity with ur mommy issues is ur twincest moment obvs Nancy: You're so wrong it's just awkward Edie: u brought up flirting w him Edie: that's awks Nancy: I brought him flirting with you, actually Edie: not rio Edie: why u jealous Nancy: Gross Nancy: He loves her, he entertains you Nancy: Not the same thing Edie: we all pretending that ain't fucked up then but this drew situ omg defcon1 Edie: this family 😂 good for the craic if literally nothing else Nancy: Nobody's pretending it isn't a mess Nancy: They just aren't being as rude as you Edie: oh no Edie: they'd NEVER do that Edie: 'cept they let joe pipe his own sister, drew fuck his way through this entire fam, gonna let them get married Edie: yeah Edie: the last thing you all do is turn a blind eye 😂 Edie: keep posting them pics like it's cute Nancy: Live in the past some more like it matters Nancy: It's done Nancy: I can't personally change it for you so Edie: past? Edie: bitch this happening right now Edie: jokes too miss imma have a victim complex cos the rich girls didn't wanna play nice with me Nancy: What's happening right now is being dealt with right now, Jesus Nancy: You'd know if you were here Edie: too late as per Edie: let it become a problem then we can all feel so sorry for ourselves aw Edie: let the skeleton raise the abortion go off Edie: slaying it Nancy: What's your solution? Nancy: We can't tell her what to do Edie: get the bitch hospitalized Edie: duh Edie: she isn't fit to be in her job or be a ma Edie: let her fuck this one up tho, join the ranks Nancy: If I could, I would Edie: sure Nancy: What you think you're the only one who's just had that oh so original thought? Nancy: Please Edie: please, like ur the only one acting as if your hands are tied Nancy: Mine are Nancy: What the fuck do you think I can do, Edie? Edie: grow a pair mckenna Edie: the act didn't work Edie: miss didn't wanna fuck u, mommy ain't coming to rescue u either 'cos u ain't her fave Edie: try something else, be original, christ Nancy: Oh my god Nancy: And do what? Nobody's gonna put Ro in hospital 'cause I say so Nancy: Or take the kid when she technically hasn't done anything wrong Edie: ring the social Edie: christ got an in Edie: like nan ain't been knew since she took the bitch in she ain't right Nancy: You know they'd investigate and do nothing Nancy: You aren't that stupid Edie: u know u too pussy to do it Edie: everyone in this fam and they wanna front like they anything but Nancy: Bullshit Nancy: Lord, I wish everything was as black and white as you're convinced it is Edie: here we go again Edie: woe is the tragic clan Edie: newsflash, normal people aren't beset by all this fucking drama and actual bullshit Edie: cos they don't roll around in it and revel in the fucking stink Nancy: None of us are normal, get over it Edie: u reckon u ain't wait for all the inbreeding kids ur gonna have to pretend are cute Edie: snap snap Nancy: Again, what do you want me to do? Nancy: I can't stop them being together Nancy: It's not like I want them to be in love or get married Edie: sure no one can we're all so helpless Edie: enough people had the balls to say nah it's fucked Edie: then rio would stop, end of, we all know it Nancy: Or they'd run away like you have Nancy: That's made everyone really happy, like Edie: yeah ur welcome Edie: more drama to jack it to Nancy: You're so selfish Edie: what, and you're the only ones allowed? Edie: gasp Edie: everyone is out for themselves and harps on the others for doing it too Edie: keep up Nancy: That's how you see it 'cause that's how it suits you Edie: that's the spirit Nancy: Your mum had a good birthday, by the way Edie: didn't ask Edie: but unsurprised Nancy: I knew you wouldn't Nancy: Doesn't mean you shouldn't know Edie: that the best u got like Edie: i been knew she's the worst of all Nancy: You wish Edie: yeah i love having a cunt for a ma hbu babe Nancy: You do though Nancy: You love thinking you do anyway Edie: yh buzzin Edie: got it in one Edie: u really aren't the smart 1 damn Nancy: I've never tried to say I am Nancy: You've got the wrong twin there Nancy: I'm the stupid one, and again, aware Edie: 😥 Edie: good ting i ain't here for ur wisdom Nancy: Fuck knows what you are here for Nancy: Please go Edie: the craic Edie: i told u Edie: so funny Nancy: If I'm the best you've got Nancy: Poor you Edie: fucking hell mckenna Edie: no one ever gonna wanna fuck u with an attitude like that Nancy: The good thing about fucking is that you don't have to talk Edie: pillow princess Edie: figures Nancy: Oh so you like to be chatty with it? Okay Edie: just a suggestion Edie: u ain't all that to look at either wanna give 'em something to keep interest Nancy: I don't want them to stick around so it's fine Nancy: But you do you Edie: oh and i'm selfish Edie: just like ur brother Edie: cute Nancy: Didn't you get the memo Nancy: He's changed Edie: least he might be worth the ride now then Edie: good for him Nancy: Gross Nancy: I hope you don't want me to pass that message on Edie: keep it to yourself if that's how you vibing girl Nancy: I'd rather not hear it but you didn't ask Edie: just meeting your expectations Edie: i'm rude yeah Nancy: Like you're so offended Edie: 💔 Nancy: I think you have to have one, babe Edie: ya 'bullies' school you that zinger Edie: knew it weren't that bad Nancy: They were more about the homophobia Nancy: Unlikely to work on you Edie: it ain't the 70s who does it Nancy: If you wanna go to London and tell them Nancy: Still probably something they could do with learning Edie: how you know i aint Nancy: If you were in Chelsea you'd have more to laugh at than me and this conversation Edie: dun think we share a sense of humour Nancy: I can't say that 💔's me Edie: aw ain't it nice to find something that don't get you 😥 Edie: love that 4 u Nancy: Okay Edie: it's been real Edie: laters Nancy: I hope not Edie: dry Nancy: Honestly you'd be better off speaking Irish to me Edie: dryshite then Edie: 🍀 enough for ye Edie: like u local Nancy: At least now I don't have to pretend I know what you're talking about Nancy: Thanks Edie: just claim ur dyslexia like ur tryna cash ur giro Nancy: Yeah Edie: wonder if u can park disabled Nancy: I can't drive so I can't tell you Nancy: If you wanna try and claim it though, they'd likely believe you Edie: hahahaha u calling me disabled now for the punch of it Edie: victim complex strikes again n the bullied becomes the bully Edie: u easiest to wind up ever imma do this more Nancy: I'm calling you an idiot Nancy: And I'm blocking you so good luck Edie: aw dont do urself like that Edie: nother thing for u to feel sorry bout when i die n i was tryna reach out for help Nancy: Like you said, if anyone dies we hear about it Edie: too little too late mckenna Nancy: For you yeah Nancy: I'm not the Samaritans babe I can barely send a coherent text Edie: yh i heard Edie: her cousin goes to my school tried coming at me fore i left like i care bout u being a tick Nancy: Okay Nancy: I don't wanna talk about her with you so bye Edie: ooooooooooo Edie: touched a nerve Nancy: Obviously Edie: bah why Edie: thought u dont want em to stay Edie: such a bad bitch Nancy: Shut up Edie: hahahahaha Nancy: Seriously Edie: get a grip mckenna Edie: she ain't even a ride Nancy: I'm not doing this Edie: you're a joke man Edie: u don't care bout none of ur family enough to shut me up but i wanna chat on this shtate Edie: and suddenly u got a dick Edie: lmao Nancy: That isn't news either, keep up like Nancy: I can't shut up about them 'cause you've got a point Nancy: It doesn't mean I don't care Edie: 'course not Edie: put it away Edie: she got a real gf now Nancy: I know Nancy: She's had several actually Nancy: You're out of the loop Edie: what a slag Edie: have to be to let u when u ain't bringing nothing to the table by ur own admission Nancy: Thanks Nancy: Homophobia belongs in the 70s but this doesn't, the world according to Edie Mckenna, okay Edie: oh shut up germaine greer Edie: i ain't tryna get in ur pants u don't need to impress me with ur regurgitated feminism 101 from ro n my mother of all people Nancy: You're the one who's still talking and staying in my inbox past your welcome, like Edie: cos i can handle it Edie: u the one getting heated baby Nancy: Well done, you Edie: aw thank u Nancy: Good thing you don't need to impress me either Edie: by pretending it don't make u a bad person to drop your knickers quicker than u can pull up the last? Edie: original Edie: get ur own personality Nancy: We've established I do Nancy: And gone into all its flaws Nancy: Again, keep up Edie: lmao u think thats urs Edie: okay when uve stapled together pieces of every bitch u want to love u Nancy: If you say so Nancy: It must be true Edie: duh Edie: see it as a chance to be better Edie: u ain't loving this Edie: n no one else is Nancy: Yeah 'cause I really wanna improve myself based on your standards Edie: who said anything bout me Edie: ill never fuck w u mckenna Edie: u still gonna be dry whatever u do Nancy: You're the only one telling me to be better Nancy: So you are Edie: well ur rents gave up on that dream didn't dey Edie: pin all dat on ur bro Nancy: Yeah they did Nancy: Tell me something I don't know or shut up Edie: poor poor baby Edie: hit up sugar town, ur namesake was on to something w that one Edie: drew good for some lsd always Nancy: That'll really help, thanks so much, babe Edie: howd u kno Edie: pussy Edie: aint even fuckin right Nancy: I know that I've got a fucked up enough brain already Nancy: Not gonna disable myself more Edie: yh well they use it to treat depression so try it Edie: stop u whining so much Nancy: There's plenty of other ways if I was so inclined Nancy: So thoughtful though Edie: obvs Edie: u love it Edie: when u got nothing else babe Nancy: Whatever you say Edie: 😥 Nancy: I've gotta go cry now, obviously Nancy: So Edie: damn u cant multitask Edie: really out here strugglin' Edie: ttfn babe Nancy: Not the way I do it Nancy: I have to go all in, of course Nancy: So much sadness Edie: nah u about the most half-arsed of all of 'em i reckon Edie: really do better Edie: i believe in u Nancy: No you don't Edie: sure i do Edie: know dat dnt sit right w ur whole victim schtik but Edie: unlucky Nancy: It doesn't sit right with anything about you more like Nancy: But okay Edie: lmao yh Edie: u 1 of a kind Edie: so special so misunderstood Nancy: By you yeah Nancy: But that's fine by me Edie: bitch we know Edie: live 4 it Edie: get it Edie: anything to feel like u better than the rest Nancy: You're ridiculous Nancy: When's the last time you even spoke to me before this? You don't know anything Edie: whens the last time u spoke Edie: dont mean u an enigma Edie: no one as thick as u tryna paint me especially not me Nancy: It means I'm shy, bitch Nancy: That's all it means Edie: yea yea Nancy: Yeah well Edie: u should talk more Edie: fun Nancy: For you but Nancy: I don't like you so unlikely to happen Edie: 💔 Edie: who does Edie: even u aint that fucked up n lookin for the sympathy Nancy: Most of this family, more fool them Nancy: Something else I can't do anything about Edie: Tragic Nancy: Yeah Edie: that's what happens when u don't get out the clothes hanger, like Edie: hey ho, 'nother bastard for the pile Nancy: 💔 Edie: yeah gonna find it well jokes when its one u actually care abt Nancy: Sure Nancy: By your reckoning I live for the misery so I'll be thriving anyway Edie: only yr own Edie: gonna get in yr way Edie: can't really verbally smackdown a kid when you've had a few Edie: 'less you wanna be that, currently without a drunk in the fam so Nancy: Also according to you I won't be here Nancy: So feel free to take that role on Edie: i ain't a virgin Edie: drinking ain't even good craic Edie: keep up, mckenna Nancy: I don't care if it brings you joy or not Edie: 😂 Edie: ooh Edie: savage Nancy: I've already told you I don't like you Nancy: Keep up yourself Edie: i told u ion care Edie: why Edie: u reckon i shuld Nancy: No Nancy: I'd rather you didn't Edie: good Edie: how u got it baby Nancy: Yay for me, like Edie: 😂 Edie: christ Edie: crackin a smile rlly wud break u yh Nancy: For you, yeah Edie: just bitches who ain't into u Edie: rejection rlly hittin that spot i c Nancy: No, just you Nancy: You're enough of a bitch Edie: ray of sunshine Edie: everyone always be saying it Edie: honestly u lost ur point a while ago Nancy: That's what I do babe Nancy: Dyslexia 101 Edie: so sad Edie: enough brain training for today then sugar, peace Nancy: At least my lack of short term memory means I can forget this convo Nancy: Bye

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toddmichaelrogers · 8 years

Text

Letter to You

Time continues to march toward nothing. I pass along with it, happy to see currents ripple and shift until I find my reflection marked by tell-tale signs of fear and what some expressionists (scientist who study faces) might call “pretty gay”--but I myself learned to accept as “mostly straight, don’t mind seeing a dick though” a long while ago.

(READ MORE)

The world is falling into the sort of post apocalyptic chaos our stories have been worried & also warning us about for several ages. I’m pretty excited for the 80s again (who knew far right fear tactics, dance music, cocaine and a cold war would ever come back in style?) If you’re reading this as a printout in some sort of home-fashioned bunker, the year is 2017, the American President is a reality star billionaire who was elected by people (both good and bad) in an effort to clear out the politicians in the country’s capital.

One dear friend of mine referred to it as “burning down the house” which is all well and good, unless of course there are people living in that house you have attempted to burn down.

We are three weeks into an uncertain world, run by a puppet of far worse men, a puppet who is obviously, quite clinically insane. I actually worried about typing that for an instant, here, in the “land of free speech”. That’s how bad it is. The people surrounding him are open racists / enemies of the LGBTQ community, and misinformed religious fear mongers. This week airports across the country were shut down by protesters after refugees and travelers from several foreign countries were banned from entering. I saw a picture of Muslim people praying in an airport while an American crowd cheered them on and it nearly moved me to tears. (And I eat a lot of salt, so if I cry it burns and I fuckin’ feel it). I will not leave this country. So what am I to do? Should I write politicians? Call them? Does this matter at all, or has it ever? I have lists of resources on Tumblr, saved between gifs of cartoons and porn searches. What am I to do? Also what gets the best results? “NSFW” or “Boobs very humungo gifs”?

I don’t know what to do. But I am grateful for the art and politicians this horrible world is about to create.

EFFORTS the band I am in was asked to play a show. This is nice as no one has heard our music. We have declined any other opportunities to perform, but a few weeks into this political fuckquake was the right time to ask, I guess. So tomorrow we have band practice, and then we’ll be playing our first show ever, later this month. I definitely want to puke but in like, a good way. Like prom nerves. Prom puking.Like a Prom-Puke-Posal

We’ve been recording our first album since November 2015. Back then it was just me and Zach. Then a guy named Geoffrey heard our demos and asked to play bass for us. No one else was asking, so we eventually said yes. Nearly a year later Zach and I tracked most of the album (there are maybe 5 songs still missing) and Geoffrey had sent us his bass demos for each. It was October 2016 and the album has been taking so long that I started pulling demos together for some other sort of release. I was going to call it DAMNSEL & THE EUTH GROUP and Geoffrey said he would produce it, but a few songs in it became obvious we were just making another EFFORTS album and now Zach is involved as well.

xxxxx

New future efforts stuff @thisisgeoffrey and I fucked with last night.

A video posted by Todd Michael Rogers (@d_a_m_n_s_e_l) on Jan 3, 2017 at 12:40pm PST

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The plan is to finish our first LP (I Bought You A Coffin) and then either license it to a record label, preferably in the UK (Plan A) or just do it the fuck ourselves (Plan B). Then when that’s all said and done we’ll have the next bit of music ready, which will be released as two EPs (2.1 Sorry Everyone Disappoints You) and EP2 which I have a name for but it’s not official or anything (2.2 Mean Songs to Hurt People). After we release the 2 EPs-- each holding 6 songs--we’ll smash them together for our second album (2.final form May The Eyes That Rise Upon You Never Know (Your True Heart). I even have album covers for all three but I ain’t showin’ em here yet. So far the first EP is missing 1 and a half songs, and the second is all in demo pieces.

A lot of these plans seem fanciful at best but it’s sort of how I always work on things, ‘shoot for the stars and hope you don’t put a bullet in your own boot’. A lot of it came about one night when Zach and I stayed up drinking as we concocted a five year plan, should anyone ever ask us if we had one.

But it all start now, with finishing this album, making our facebook page (LINK), playing our first few shows, and releasing our first single (May You Absorb all Evil) But look, we even have a cover for it, granted to us by the artist Liam Barrett. We’ll release this baby sometime this Summer, along with a music video I have been meticulously planning for over a year.

I miss writing the novel. It’s been over a month since I touched it, but printing out my progress from the start of 2016 to the end was amazing.

I think the time away from it will be good, the fear, the worry, the feworry is leaving it for too long, allowing it to get lost in the current of the sea (see opening paragraph, this blog).

My plan is to look at what I’ve done (dangerous) do a quick edit job upon it (also dangerous, but hopeful/most/ly this is just a grammar bombing), and then see where the first 200 pages are at. I hope I’m doing the right thing, the bow of the ship needs to be set through some very particular territory, and even I know I’m telling a strange story in a weird way. I could smashed to bits upon the rocks of those who would never publish it.

But I miss it.

WHYLC is a comic book I started writing 10 years ago next month (Jesus Fucking Christ) and which I eventually self published online after taking it upon these keep-it-100 hands to illustrate. Issue 2 will take even more time, but for those of you who read it, the work shall continue. I reallllly like making comics and it was sort of the first thing I ever wanted to do writing wise.

PS Issue 1 can always be found right here (LINK)

Spell Saga could destroy anyone, at any given time, if they saw the scope and horror of the project, stretching like ley lines backwards & forwards, away from my heart. I’ve spent the better half of a year working days and nights to pay for both a) my cool ideas and b) my dumb mistakes. This has resulted in many more cards being printed than initially anticipated, and most of my ‘money bucks’ being sent out as packages of said cards to patient wonderful truly unbelievable fans across the globe.

(Meagen Crawford took dis pic)

Do you know how long it takes to package something? Or even double check and print the correct address? Let alone figure out a packaging solution after the US Postal Service gave you the WRONG information? It’s been a fucking nightmare--but a super neat problem to have. I can panic and smile, I do both all the time.

The next step of the process is sort of manifold:

First I have to finish sending packages to places like the UK, Singapore & Brazil. Then I have to wire the final amount to the manufacturer which was delayed by all the changes we made during initial production. THEN I have to finish re-designing DECK 2 (it’s just a new Photoshop HD makeover, no rules changes). THEN I have to get the packaging for deck 2 finalized (make sure everything is the right size, get UPC code etc.) THEN I have to wire the manufacturer to print this deck and ship everything out together from Hong Kong to any US coast and down to me in lil ole Tennessee.

Then I get my shit together. Spell Saga has been bruised and hidden away while the manufacturing continued. Having Decks 0, 1, and 2 printed and at my fucking door (taking up most of my living room) will give me the privilege and honor of sending everyone another deck for free (thanks for waiting) along with sending out marketing packages to game reviewers across the Earth. It will coincide with the continued but stalled development of the Spell Saga library (a web page of game resources formerly known as the wikiFAQ).

Getting the game back up to good standing is a very real priority for this lonely designer. When I have all that cooking at the right degree I can finally finish the main game by Designing DECK 3 and the Ending with Cousin Lauren. (Then I’ll have to pay for that one to get printed too. That’s 10 grand. Right there.)

PS Cousin Lauren has a page for her art now. Check it out (LINK)

In the INTERIM. The Meantime. IN the age of Meanness: I’ve been designing a new SPell Saga deck, called 1.5 The Under Sky. It’s a sort of bridge between decks 1 and 2, that also acts like a warp into deck 3 if it’s played right. The Look, Feel, Story, and emotional journey of this Deck matches the others--it’s still the story of The Last Minstrel--but while decks 1,2, and 3 were created with the emotions of a bad marriage and a young man afraid of what his life might have become, this DECK is sort of based on how it’s felt to publish the game and everything that’s happened to me in my own journey. Making things is hard. It’s so hard. It’s super terrible and impossible. But getting to the end is the whole point of a journey, and this deck celebrate that.

In The Under Sky, you play as The Last Minstrel, but you’ve sort of lost your way to The Forest, as well as your friends. It’s the idea of knowing exactly what you want, until a sort of early 20s suburban existentialism hits like a storm to blow you so off course you aren’t even sure who you are anymore, much less where you’re going. During the game you’ll explore the insides of living keeps called Castle Crashers, making friends with mirages and using a creature called the dark pixie to pull magical items out of ordinary places. There’s also a river of blood that’s spilling out from a talking disembodied head of a fallen god. It’s pretty cool.

If I’m nervous about anything it’s that the mechanics are advanced to say the least. It’s still the same old Spell Saga but there’s new ideas there too. Like, imagine five cards that are in a circle. The hero token (representing your character) can move left or right on the circle visiting each card (each representing a different place to visit) if you’ve played Spell Saga before, the idea should seem familiar, it’s the main and most basic mechanic of the game. But now, imagine each card in the circle is a stack 5 cards deep, and when you move from one stack to the next the cards in each stack are shuffled, the order they rest in dependant upon how you enter or leave the stack with your token. That’s some scary shit to try and “make a rulebook out of” but I think it’s going to work. I want every Spell Saga deck to kind of have it’s own vibe going on, each playing off the mechanics you may have learned in the previous deck.

There’s other Spell Saga news too:

If anyone is reading this Realmwalker ~ Science//Armor//Romance will be republished with typographical errors removed and a new box sometime near March. This was a game I released a year ago (Judas Iscariot Priest!) on The Gamecrafter, and then removed until i had time to fix it.

The next Realmwalker ~ The Discordant Shore is half designed and really a very exciting game. I think it should be done by June, and that one will also be on The Gamecrafter. The Reason this one took so long is half the cards are also copies of special handmade cards I’ll be sending out to people who spent dat ca$h on the Kickstarter, y’know, back in 2014 (Satan’s Red Mouth!).

Are you still here? Are you still reading this?

French Toast Gaming Co.’s next game, something I first worked on twenty years ago, and then spent the better part of a decade worrying about is about to be released this year. EPIOCH was supposed to come out last August, but many delays pushed it away. Now my good friend Weshoyot has nearly finished the art, and all the game needs is more playtesting and a rulebook before it pops up on The Gamecrafter. Here’s an art peek, and you should check out her instagram. (LINK).

That’s everything I needed to type out to stay sane. Thanks for following along all three of you. I appreciate it. There’s been other things too of course, lost jobs, another concussion, dreams where I tell my secrets to people who look disappointed. But you don’t need to know any of that. Not really. It will all come out in the artwork anyway.

OR THE patron page PODCAST, I GUESS.

-mE.

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