#KINDA SYD ROUGH DRAFT

[rokurookajima]

ipad died while i was in the midst of something important…..

[bathtubjohnny]

Chapter 1: Rough draft (Edited once for spelling/grammar)

TW: Bloody noses, descriptions of a corpse, mild gore and swearing, spooky zombie lady, bad formatting, rushed writing

Note: Please give me your sweet sweet feedback. Oh how I crave honest and good-hearted criticism.

*Thanks to a handful of members from a group chat for convincing me to post this*

The forest was dense enough to blot out the sun, almost completely plunging the path in darkness. It didn’t bother Sydney though; he was too focused on the building at the end of it. It was a church, and he stood in front of it, staring up at the grey steeple protruding from what was left of the roof. It was a miracle that it was still standing. The walls had been scorched by fire, and the once-beautiful stained glass windows had melted into colourful, wax-like puddles. He could still smell smoke even though the church burned an impossibly long time ago. It never occurred to Sydney that the surrounding woods were completely untouched by the fire, as if it had never happened in the first place.

The inside was different as Sydney pushed the double doors open. He didn’t recognize the inside. It was more spacious than what he remembered, but like the forest, untouched by the blaze. Instead of red carpeting there was a wooden floor; instead of oil paintings depicting the trial of Jesus, tapestries with horrific, indescribable images decorated the walls. The interior had an ancient feel to it, making Sydney feel insignificant as he stood before the rows of pews. He could tell that it wasn’t a Catholic church anymore. It was a haven for a religion that existed long before the concept of Christianity.

Across from Sydney and past the pews was a stone table where the altar should have been. There was a white sheet covering something laying across it. As he padded down the aisle towards it, he could see symbols etched into the stone, characters he couldn’t recognize. The closer he got the louder his ears rang, his sinuses becoming so congested that soon fluid began leaking down his chin. It wasn’t until he reached the table and saw the bright red droplets fall onto the stark white sheet covering it that he realized his nose was bleeding.

Ignoring his instinct to wipe away the blood, Sydney reached for the edge of the sheet and pulled it back. Underneath was a girl, or at least the body of one. Her skin was ashen and waxy, a greenish-blue in colour. Small blisters had begun to form on her cheeks and forehead, as if she had been sunburnt recently. Even though they were closed, Sydney could tell that her eyes were sunken into her skull.

“Syd?”

Pulling the sheet down further, Sydney saw that the girl’s arms had been placed palms facing up, leaving the undersides of her forearms exposed. On both of them were deep gashes, starting from her wrists and ending in the crooks of her elbows. The rest of her had begun to decay, but her wounds appeared recent, oozing thicker, darker blood than what was dripping from Sydney’s nose.

“Syd, are you awake?”

The sound of her inhaling made Sydney’s attention turn sharply back to her face as her jaw creaked open, sucking in air. He stumbled away as her eyes, covered in a watery blue film, flew open. Her head turned towards him with a snap, sending him falling backwards in shock. He hit the floor hard as she sat up, bones creaking and popping as she threw the sheet off her bloated body-

“Mr.Patrick!”

Sydney bolted up from his desk as the shout tore through his dream, nearly sending him toppling to the floor. Mrs. Bray was sitting on her desk glaring directly at Sydney, arms folded. A snort of laughter to his left made him blush as he realized he’d dozed off...again. “Uh, sorry.” He mumbled, slowly sitting back down and trying to ignore the eyes on him. Although Mrs. Bray had a stern look in her eyes, Syd was somewhat comforted by the fact that she was obviously trying not to smile.

“I get that there’s ten minutes left, but let’s try to stay awake, alright?�� She sighed. “To those of you who may have dozed off, I’m not repeating myself about the assignment. You can ask your group. Now,” She side-eyed the room. ‘Is there anyone who isn’t in a group of three yet?”

Syd sneaked a quick glance across the room over at his close friend Lizzie Abrams. She caught his eye and shrugged apologetically, motioning to two other girls sitting near her. Feeling his cheeks heat up, Syd averted his eyes, staring down at his desk in embarrassment.

“We don’t have a third person in our group.” The voice to Syd’s left spoke up, making him turn. It was a girl in a worn, blue and white baseball cap, someone who Sydney unfortunately recognized. Her name was Morette Woodward, better known as Mo, and Syd knew her as being the one who broke his nose during dodgeball back in fifth grade.

She had one elbow propped up on her desk and was leaning her head against her hand while picking at her braces with the other. When she caught Sydney’s eye, she flashed him a toothy smirk.

Mrs. Bray glanced between the two and shrugged. “Perfect, evens out the groups. Now,” she turned to address the rest of the class. “I’m giving the last couple minutes of class to organize your chapters, so use your time wisely. Remember your book and your portfolio should be in at least six sections!”

Portfolio? Sydney rubbed his eyes and groaned, wondering what else he’d missed. Falling asleep at random times wasn’t a problem before, but lately he'd been feeling lethargic and finding himself unable to keep his eyes open for long periods of time.

“Hey, scooch your butt over next to us so we can talk better.” Mo nodded at a tall boy sitting beside her. Sydney didn’t know who it was, but thought he looked familiar. “Yeah hold on,” he turned his chair to face them before leaning forward. “So… what’re we doing exactly?”

“Man, you were really out, huh?” The tall boy said, giving Sydney a sympathetic grin. “You were pretty twitchy too. Were you dreaming or something?”

Syd blinked. “‘Twitchy’? What do you mean?”

“Like...mumbling and tensing up a lot,” He clenched his fists in emphasis. “It was kinda creepy. What were you dreaming about?” He was already talking again before Syd could reply. “Oh shit, you don’t know me. Sorry, I’m Henry Kaminer.”

Kaminer. Sydney didn’t know Henry, but definitely recognized the last name. He remembered reading about the Kaminers in the newspaper, and made a mental note not to bring it up.

“Oh. I’m Sydney. I don’t really remember what I dreamed of.” Sydney lied. Henry laughed. “Yeah, I heard. Isn't Sydney a girl's...? Whatever, nice to meet you Sydney."

Morette handed Sydney a sheet of paper. “I had an uncle Sid so no, it's not 'a girl's name'. Anyway, literally all we have to do is split the book up to read for a week, then do some fun little questions and activities at the end of each week." She flipped through her copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. "It's like the same stuff we did in grade 5, but with racism."

So she does remember. Sydney looked over his sheet of paper. "Oh."

"Yeah, it'll be easy." Morette leaned back in her chair and scrunched her nose up. "There's 31 chapters, but they're not too long. Let's just do five chapters each week and read whatever's left when we get to the last week." She tossed a stack of pink sticky notes at Sydney. "Use those as a bookmark."

Sydney looked down at the sticky notes. “...Thanks.”

___

“Hey Syd!”

Sydney paused at the front doors of the school just as he was about to walk through them. Henry hurried over to him, lime green beanie clutched in one hand, messenger bag in the other. The tall boy stopped beside him, huffing. “Man, I jumped down the stairs to catch up to you. Sorry, anyway. Walking home?”

Sydney pushed open the doors, nodding. “Yep. What about you?”

“Same here, but uh...which way are you going?”

“To the left.”

“Sweet! Mind if I tag along?”

“Sure,” As they made their way past groups of students waiting for their buses, they started walking down the sidewalk towards the nearby neighbourhoods. Syd, who barely made it to Henry’s elbows, couldn’t help but feel self-conscious with the giant beside him. “Do you live close to the school?” He asked. Henry shrugged. “Well, not really. To be honest I’m just tagging along to avoid my older brother, Marvin.” He chuckled a bit, but it sounded forced. “He’s got his driver’s licence and all, but…”

“But what?” Syd asked. Henry sighed. “He’s an asshole. I don’t feel like dealing with his anger issues today. So I’m here with you instead, little man. If that’s cool with you,”

“I’m not that little! But yeah, it’s cool.”

“Yeah you are, shortstack!!” Henry guffawed and rubbed the top of Sydney’s head with one hand. Syd swatted at his arm, but joined in the laughter. The two boys continued talking and joking around as they continued trekking down the street towards a crosswalk. The weather was warm for being early September, the sun beaming down on them helping to keep Sydney in high spirits.

The first week of school had been rough for him; being as timid as he was, making friends was hard enough in elementary school, never mind being in a new environment. For the longest time he’d considered Lizzie to be his closest friend, but they’d drifted apart over the summer, making him feel even more isolated than ever. As he listened to Henry telling him about his pet cat, Bowie, he felt a ray of hope that maybe he wouldn’t have to be so lonely after all.

“...he’s a really sweet boy, but he’s pretty ugly,” Henry was telling Syd. “He’s got this weird skin condition though so there’s like almost no hair on his body. I think it’s kinda hilarious, but every time he sits down his butthole sticks to our table.”

Syd snorted. “Gross.” He stopped at the edge of the crosswalk as the traffic light turned red, Henry following suit. “I don’t have any pets. My mom’s allergic to animal hair. It makes her sneeze.”

“Damn. No siblings either? Sounds quiet.” Henry leaned against a pole covered in colourful flyers and shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand. Sydney took a couple steps back so he was standing in Henry’s shadow and decided that tall people weren’t that bad. “Hey,” he said. “My house is just up ahead, what about you?”

Henry shrugged and shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets. “Not me little man, I’m heading to the right but maybe I can come over and wreak havoc at your place sometime.” He flashed Sydney a grin and straightened up, a couple flyers sticking to him before fluttering to the ground. “Whoops, those seemed important.”

Syd rolled his eyes and laughed as Henry stooped down to scoop them off the sidewalk. “Nice going there, big guy.” He joked. “Careful you don’t bring the pole down too.” Henry didn’t respond; instead he slowly stood up, clutching a white flyer and staring down at it. Sydney felt his smile fade when he saw the dismayed expression on Henry’s face.

“...What is it?”

Henry swallowed hard before handing Sydney the poster. The white paper was crumpled and soft from being left outside, showing signs that it had been there a while. A photo of a man with a goofy grin and a buzzcut holding a balding cat was in the center. The words were in bright red at the top of the page as he read them.

MISSING PERSON

Jeremiah Lee Kaminer

Also goes by ‘Jerry’

19 years old, blue eyes, blonde, slim build, 6’0”

Last seen November 27th wearing a leather jacket, blue jeans, and brown hiking boots. If you have seen him or have any information of his whereabouts, please contact the Denville City Police.

“Henry,” Sydney glanced up from the page. Henry was fidgeting in place, avoiding making eye contact. “Is he...?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, staring at the ground. “It’s our oldest brother. He’s been missing for over a year. Went into a bar one night for a drink, and just…. Never came out.” A cold gust of wind sent the remaining flyers drifting down the sidewalk as they caught the breeze. Henry’s hands tightened around the poster, creasing the paper before he folded it into a square. “Whatever. I gotta go.” He turned and started heading down the street, leaving Sydney alone.

Syd watched him walk away, wondering whether he should call out or not. Deciding not to, Sydney went home, ignoring the icy loneliness that had begun to creep back.

[ohmygraysonsthighs]

God is a (Wo)Man (E.D.){SMUT}

A/N: hey y’all! so uh like i know i like kinda don’t exist anymore and it’s all chill i don’t know if i’m gonna be posting more or not but this was in my drafts and since i keep seeing circles and lines get attention i just thought y’all would want this one too ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

The bass of the ear wrecking music surrounding you pumped through your bloodstream. Not even ten minutes ago you were in your friend Ethan's car smoking a bowl outside of the last party of the summer. The affects always took a little while to kick in for him, but you couldn't say the same. Smoking weed worked like ecstasy for you. Every feeling so much more intense than usual, which would make you horny as ever but you tried to contain it.

Before you both walked into  the home, Ethan whispered in your ear to make sure to stay close to him, saying he didn't want anyone fucking with you while you were in this state. His words made your heart swell. Of course you had a crush on him- how cheesy, right- but you couldn't help it. 

Right now you were dancing with Syd, a close childhood friend of yours. She offered you a drink but you declined, not really looking to get crossfaded tonight. When someone changed the song to an unfamiliar beat, your eyes began to scan your surroundings.  Ethan's twin, Grayson, was leaned up against a wall talking to Ethan and a kid named Josh. Ethan looked totally out of it and you chuckled. It's definitely kicked in now.

You left Syd to go talk to some of your other friends. Mid conversation, a presence came up from behind and wrapped their arms around your waist.

"Hey Y/N." Ethan slurred, resting his head upon your shoulder.

"Hey to you too big boy. How ya hanging in there?"

"I feel great baby. How 'bout you?"

"Kinda like I don't exist. And my shoulders feel like honey. So pretty good." The person you were talking to got caught up in someone else and you waved bye to them, planning on finishing your conversation later.

"Mmm. Honey. So sweet. Just like you."  Ethan kissed your cheek and his lips made your skin burn like coals. You had to get out of his arms or your next move could be sinfully deadly. Grabbing his hands, you twisted out of his hold.

"Alright E, let's go dance. Sound good?" He offered a droopy nod as a response and you shook your head. Still holding his hands, you led him to the area where most of the people were.

A few rap songs played and you both jumbled over your words trying to rap to the other, which just ended with the both of you in fits of laughter. Although others crossed paths with you both, you stuck together. The cycle of horribly trying to keep up with the fast paced songs came to a halt once "God is a woman" came on.

"E! E! This song is so good!" You stumbled into is arms then back out, singing to him.

You, you love it how I move you

You love it how I touch you

My one, when all is said and done

You'll believe God is a woman

Every other song you've listened to you shouted the lyrics out loud. Not this one. You don't know what had come over you, but it was like you subconsciously knew how you wanted this to end, like you were on a mission. Instead of shouting, you let the lyrics drip off your tongue like honey.

And I, I feel it after midnight

A feelin' that you can't fight

You took a step closer to Ethan, your faces just a few inches apart. All of the sudden he had nothing to say, his eyes darker than before and one of his hands leaving yours to grip your waist.

My one, it lingers when we're done

You'll believe God is a woman

"You know, this song is incredibly sexual." He murmured.

"Really? I had no idea." You bit your lip and turned around so your ass was pressed against his bulge, teasingly grinding on to him.

"Y/N, what are you doing."

"What feels good."

"We can't do this. This isn't right."

Turning your head to linger your lips around his ear, you whispered, "Then tell me to stop."

Ethan pressed his lips together in a line. "Don't. Stop." You smirked and turned back around to continue grinding on him.

Ain't nobody else can relate

Boy, I like that you ain't afraid

Baby, lay me down and let's pray

I'm tellin' you the way I like it, how I want it

Ethan's rough hands skidded across your torso hotly, landing above your clit and rubbing you through your shorts. A small gasp left your mouth.

"Did you bite off more than you can chew, princess?" He said smugly. To show him that he barely knew the beginning of what you could handle, you grinded on him with more pressure until you could feel more than just a bulge.

"I know what I can handle. I know what I want."

You, you love it how I move you

You love it how I touch you

My one, when all is said and done

You'll believe God is a woman

And I, I feel it after midnight

A feelin' that you can't fight

My one, it lingers when we're done

You'll believe God is a woman

"I can't fucking take this anymore." Ethan twirled you around, brought both hands up to your neck, and kissed you passionately. It happened so quickly that at first you weren't able to comprehend his movements, but in the blink of an eye you reciprocated his actions. Your kisses were hungry, like you both haven't eaten in months and were finally brought something that could replenish you for life. How just one kiss could make you this wet you couldn't understand. Ethan broke the kiss and looked you in the eyes.

"Follow me." He tugged at your hands and lead you upstairs. A few of the rooms were locked with teenagers doing something you were going to do soon. Eventually you found an unoccupied room and Ethan held the door open for you.

"Sit on the bed." He mumbled as you walked into the room. You did as you were told and watched him slowly close the door and lock it, the action alone causing goosebumps to erupt across your body.

"You've been bad Y/N. Grinding on me like that in front of all those people? Tsk, tsk, where are your manners?" He strode over to you. You loved this side of Ethan. His dominant side came out every once in a while, but imagining him in bed like this was sending you into overdrive.

"I couldn't help it. You make my head spin; you have no clue how long I've been waiting to do that." Regularly you would've never confessed something of those sorts to him, but you're laying it all out on the table tonight.

"You're in for a treat, kitten. I'm gonna ruin you in the best way imaginable. When all is said and done, you'll believe God is a man." And just like that your lips met again. It was less hungry than before- probably because you both knew something better was to come. Pausing momentarily, you took took your tube top off and Ethan took off his shirt. You were always amazed at how well formed his body was. Shortly after you rejoined, Ethan's mouth left yours to travel down your neck, lightly biting which caused you to yelp. Everything already felt like it was vibrating, so the pleasure from his tongue was multiplied tenfold. He wrapped his tongue around a nipple and you couldn't help but let a groan fall out.

"Look at you, you're already a mess for me."

"Don't be so big headed, you know what being high does to me." You said, head thrown back in satisfaction.

"Babe you're about to find out how big this head really is." He winked, letting your nipple pop out of his mouth and crouching down to wiggle you out of your shorts and undies. Once you were free, Ethan spared no time to run his thumb up and down your glistening cunt.

"Even more wet than I imagined." Slipping his thumb between his lips, he moaned, "And even sweeter too. I can't wait to devour this pussy," your eyes grew wide and he cracked a smile, "Not yet though."

Head bobbing back up to meet yours for a third time, you reconnected as his fingers cruised along your soaking folds. He circled the perimeter of your clit until you had to break the kiss to take a breather. Resting his forehead on yours, his eyes peaked down to watch as his fingers made you weaker by the second and you did the same. Thumb not leaving your clit, he let his pointer and middle finger finally enter you and your body relaxed. You observed as they entered dry and withdrew completely drenched.

"See that, kitten? Who makes you this wet?"

"You, E." You gasped.

"Damn right. Never forget that." You nodded in response, growing more breathless the more he pumped into and rubbed you. When your lips met once more it was sloppier and wetter than previously. An impatient hand reached out to touch him from his pecks, to his abs, all the way down to his belt and yanking at his shorts.

"Eager, aren't we?" He said huskily before pulling away from you momentarily, undoing his belt and removing his pants along with his boxers. His hard-on sprung up and you reached out to stroke it.

"Not tonight, princess. Not tonight." He removed your hand and went right back to his earlier work. Hands now sliding in and out at a faster rate and thumb still going in on the clit, he added a third finger to stretch you out which made your heart race.

"Fuck your fingers feel so good in my pussy," you moaned, "Ethan holy fuck."

His fingers curled up and hit your g spot, causing your back to arch, gluttonous for his contact. No one has ever made you feel this good before.

"You like that? You want me to make you cum?" A whimper escaped your throat and you were too busy focusing on the pleasure he was giving you. Those hands truly worked like magic. The way he weighed his thumb down on your clit burned blissfully. Your pussy strained for more and you ground yourself into him the hardest you could. Eyes closed in the dark room and high out of your fucking mind, touch was your most heightened sense.

"Answer me." Ethan growled, other hand reaching around your throat, squeezing lightly.

"Yes! Yes E please make me cum. I need it so bad baby please."

"Since you asked so nicely. Cum for daddy, Y/N." A fourth finger was added and Ethan's eyes bore holes into yours. He removed the hand from your throat and used it to pinch your clitoris and you were through. You came loudly, screaming his name like it was the only word you knew.

He opened your mouth with his wet digits so you could taste yourself and you hummed in delight.

"How do you taste?"

"Delicious, daddy."

"Good. You were so tight around my fingers, I'm sure you'd be even tighter around my cock."

"Let's find out." You spit into your hand and lightly grabbed him, stroking until his lips parted. Slipping his tip in between your folds, you teased him by sliding it up and down through your wetness.

"Enough playing baby." You listened to his words and allowed him to slowly glide into you.  He somehow expanded you more than his four fingers did. It hurt a little bit so it took a second for adjusting, but once you did, he filled you with his dick.

"You're so fucking tight." He grunted, pulling out slightly then rammed back in. Steadily, you both found a rhythm and your second orgasm was already building up until he removed himself completely.

"On your hands and knees. Now." You excitedly complied. As soon as you did, Ethan wasted no time entering you again. The new angle had your legs trembling and groans following. Hearing Ethan moan behind you turned you on even more and you started to fuck yourself onto his cock.

"Shit Y/N, that's so good. Your ass is so hot." He said, spanking you and getting a grunt in return. He continued to spank you as you backed that ass for him. When he had had enough, he harshly grabbed your hips and pounded into you relentlessly, hitting that perfect spot over and over again while you reached down to add some friction to your already sensitive clit.

"Ethan! Harder, daddy, harder. Keep hitting that spot and I'm gonna fucking cum again." And harder he went, balls slapping up onto your hand and for the second time that night, you were about to explode. But this time was different than earlier, a different sensation came over you. It felt like something else was going to happen. Before you could think about it for too long though, you came, squirting all over Ethan's dick.

"Holy fucking shit." You were spent but Ethan was merciless, still going at it until he flipped you over once more then pulled out.

"Cum in my mouth, E." You took him in, swirling your tongue around the head then pushing him down your throat and out until he spilled his seed. After you swallowed it down, you kitten licked his tip to make sure you got it all, staring at him, then finished with a peck.

Both of you layed down next to each other on the bed, exhausted. Ethan grabbed your hand and kissed to back of it.

"I hope Matt isn't pissed we fucked in his bed. And we fucked his bed up." Ethan chuckled at your comment and turned to look at you.

"That was fucking amazing Y/N."

"I know. I guess we learned a few things from this."

"What?"

"That you're as good as I thought in bed."

"And?"

"And I guess we can agree that God is a person."

[yuli-ban]

Anarchy in Prague/Belle Grand-Mär Megapost

See, now this is a megapost. The goth one was only about two unique pictures. This one has three.

Current theme song for Anarchy in Prague. Harkens back to the days when it was described as a “Stoner Rock Scott Pilgrim”. 

Drawn by @dalf

She’s 27 at the time the story starts. She is literally on the edge of being a Millennial (I’m one of those who thinks the cut-off between Millennials/Generation Y and iGeneration/Generation Z should be 2001, but some say it’s actually 1996).

Drawn by @alouissever 

If two people share a 1-Up, how would that work? Also, you can tell they’re getting close to 30 just by how stoned they look when, in fact, they’re trying to stay awake for New Year’s. I love this aspect of Anarchie, rambling about how Millennials are growing old and are no longer the dominant youth generation. In 2024 (which is 7 years away), there will be 40-something Millennials. I’ll be 30, holy fucking mother of fathers.

Drawn by @dalf

Muriel and Malfiore. Pan’s goth “girls”. Muriel’s, like, 28. However, Malfiore/Marie is 37. She’s still a Millennial, yo. 2024-37=1987. She’s a fucking ‘90s kid and she’s already growing some grays and finding the protoforms of what will one day become wrinkles.

Drawn by @alouissever

Arthur and his sister, Daria (yes, I know it was Darya; deal with it). Daria’s nonplussed about how childish Venus remains.

Drawn by @alouissever

I actually couldn’t find the bottom image for the longest time, so I think this is the first time I’ve posted it to Tumblr. See? It’s not all reposts. I kinda like how Venus looks like a ghost in the second picture, but Dalf forgot about the Saint Vitus logo! And yes, that’s a Pepper robot. I imagined that they might gain a bit more utility between now and 2024. Also, funny thing about Venus being a “hipster”. She’s actually not. She’s more of a moddie than a hipster. But since Arthur’s a hipster, she sometimes tries to be one ironically.

Drawn by @dalf

Arthur Tartakovsky, Venus’s ultra-hipster boyfriend. This was before he gained his ironic mustache. He used to be in an indie pop band in an earlier draft, but nowadays he’s still in an indie pop band. The actual change was his other hobby: before, he was a comic artist. Now he’s an indie game dev specializing in retro games and VR cyberpunk. The world of indie game devs can get hectic, especially in a tight job market. He has to deal with rival devs sabotaging each other and himself sometimes, which is why he developed electrokinetic powers.

Early sketches of the original trio. Only Venus has really changed visually. She was much less notable.

Drawn by @dalf

I already did the posts where @pan-pizza gets his nuts crushed. I see no reason why I should post them again other than to goad Pan into reblogging this megapost. Pan, do not  reblog this.

Drawn by @alouissever

Drawn/animated by @spookyfishcakes

Drawn by @nicolas-px-art

Early form of Malfiore. She always wears Ed’s clothes (a la Ed Edd n Eddy), but it was much more faithful in the earliest sketches. Just ask Alouisse-Ver. Also, she used to have Daria’s hairstyle.

Muriel’s first sketch, back before she had her top hat. I created her as a loveletter to Pan Pizza and his gothosexual tendencies; Malfiore was always going to be a part of the story.

Drawn by @alouissever

Anarchie’s still got a lotta stoner rock in it (Venus’s band and their scene mates are all either stoner rock or heavy rock), but even back in 2014 when I first created the story, I left some room for indie rock. Nowadays, they both take up an equal amount of space. If it ever becomes a movie or a cartoon, it’ll probably be the only one in history where the OST consists of Nebula, Kyuss, Radio Moscow, and Orange Goblin right alongside The Pillows, Kodaline, Arctic Monkeys, and Porno Mags. Radiohead one second, Pentagram the next.

And, for now, that’s all for Anarchie. I’ve yet to commission pictures of Kalo, Syd, Adamski, or Azura Meco, but those are coming. I’m just actually working on the story. Shocker, I know. Even I’m surprised. I just did a 30,000 word outline in about 10 days; the real rough draft should be finished by April.

And now for BGM, which is basically “Anarchie + Cyberdelic Pharmaceuticals”. The early posts here don’t show that off well, but the world will know...

Title card still pending.... I made that 3 yea— holy fuck, I made that three years ago?! How is it 2017 already? 

Pure stardream. It sounds like dreamrock, honestly. The moment I heard this, I knew I had found BGM’s BGM. No pun intended. It was either this or Stand Up. 

Belle. Belle Grand-Mär. British moddie, real name “Indira Elizabeth Jones”, elective mute, severe and antisocial, freeskating and freerunning traceause, yadayadayada. If Venus was a female Scott Pilgrim fused with Murdoc Niccals, Belle is Ramona Flowers + Haruko Haruhara + Ryuko Matoi + Garnet + a mime + Neku Sakuraba + a silent cartoon character. I’m glad I’m a writer. Try creating a silent character! You’d better have mastered visual emotion.

Aurora. Real name “Farideh Moradi”, Persian-Briton moddie, freerunning traceuse, Belle’s closest friend and whatnot. She literally got her name from the reference to the Aurora Borealis in A Flock of Seagull’s uber-80′s hit “I Ran (So Far Away)”. The 2020′s are basically the ‘80s with more cyberdelia, after all.

Bomb. Real name “Madeleine Violetta Dumont”, French moddie, actually dead and works as a psychokinetic grim reaper whenever she feels like it. Also Belle’s rival and foil. Freeskating traceuse. She was created in 2009 as the lead character in a story that was literally “JSRF: Jet Set Radio Future + The World Ends With You”. This is why she seems like someone badly took a character from each of those games and fused them together.

Drawn by @alouissever

Parov Stelar’s beautiful little electroswing track. It’s so 2020′s.  BGM has much more of a stardream atmosphere than the down-to-earth feel of Anarchie. There’s a lot more chiptune, dreamier rock, electrofunk, and whatnot. If you took the soundtrack to Super Mario Galaxy and Steven Universe, mixed it with the soundtrack to Jet Set Radio Future, and made it thrice as eclectic, you’d get something like BGM’s presumed BGM.

You may have noticed that all the characters for BGM thus far are moddies. That’s no mistake or coincidence— it’s a moddie story. It has a stronger character than Anarchie, to the point I can even call it when aspects of Anarchie “seem like something out of BGM”.  Moddies are already getting started, though no one’s yet calling them moddies. But you see how vaporwave’s gotten so big? How neon and pixel art is dominating Tumblr? Seapunk and dyed hair are everywhere, everyone loves hallucinogenics, and everyone loves the ‘80s once more. Major Lazer, for the fucking win. Right now, we say that these are signs of hipsterdom. But in the 2020s, we’re going to look back and realize what it really was— the birth of the moddies. We’ve not yet reached the moddies— we still need a Transhuman Be-In, cheaper OLEDs, and a Sgt. Pepper moment for electronic music (where people stop seeing it as purely dance music). And I don’t see anyone who owns a robot like Pepper or ASIMO yet either. And while luminescent hair is definitely a thing, it’s not yet become a common thing. Nor has leaving up Christmas lights all year, or being obsessed with bright primary colors.

But we’re getting there. And the thing that will trigger the final separation between post-hipsters and moddies isn’t a Transhuman Be-In, but simply time: us Millennials are indeed growing older. I was born in ‘94, and I’m 22 going on 23. Millennials brought back hipsterdom, but ‘10s hipsters suffered a brutal blow due to the loss of Bernie Sanders and the rise of Donald Trump. Our whole zeitgeist became fragile. Hence why people are looking for harder music instead of the previously comfortably twee indie pop and nu-folk. Being vintage and authentic hasn’t helped us one bit, and the kids— those younger than ourselves— don’t believe in our ideals. They just see a blizzard.  Some may mock the hair colors, but they secretly love it. They want something more than what Millennials are offering. They are loving several aspects of what’s big— aforementioned things like vaporwave, electronic music, dyed hair, cyberpunk revivalism, ‘80s and ‘90s love, etc.— but other aspects, they are eager to discard. There’s a strain of neo-futurism in the iGeneration, which isn’t surprising considering they were raised as something of a proto-cyborg generation.

And that’s the moddies in a nutshell. Kids who recognize they live in “The Future™” and wish to own it. They don’t just listen to electronic music because it’s cool; it also aids that whole sense of living in years that previous generations thought were purely sci-fi. They don’t see electronic music as just dance club/background music. They want electronic versions of prog rock and conscious hip hop. They’re more than happy to drop acid and fuck robots. They don’t love the obsession with a minimalist future with sterile colors— they want neon. Neon lights, neon paint, and a cyberdelic attitude. If that means making cities look like one giant rave, so be it. Because ha ha, they live in the Future.

You can forgive them for their incredible optimism; they’re just kids. And they want you to know it.