@crnaged liked !
“now would be a good time to mask up, buddy.”
said with the cadence of someone experiencing something so ridiculous that every delicate system in the human ( more or less ) body takes on a sort of on adrenaline-clad autopilot. he should be shaking more than he is, he thinks. YOU HAVE ME TO THANK! “shut up and do something!”
“NO. IT IS BIGGER THAN US, EDDIE.”
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❛ CRNAGED / 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 .
𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐍, the kind only a creature of his ilk could embody. the shock to the systems couldn’t be anything easy to withstand, but it was of no consequence of his own. grey matter poured over graciously in a millisecond if only out of curiosity alone, a bond forged through a visage of spite and scorn. and the more she loathed him the further he sank upon her, like ink seeps through the gentle curves of prints upon another. a loving cascade of devotion in song : 𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗. — warped in fashion for his own means. yes, certain, she had him under her skin, and he liked being there if not for the struggle and disdain alone he could sense coursing through her. cortisol, pure terror in the face of something so completely 𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖓. —
it all seems such luxury now, the self : the privacy of simply being. to share it — willingly or otherwise — had always seemed such a fantastical thing, reserved for storytelling and hypotheticals. amusing what ifs, flung around with little consideration of its realization. it was fun at the time, innocent debate without danger. now ? not so fun. not with this one. ( but what were the chances of benevolent aliens, anyway ? hell, even common make — believe would have them as naught but violent enemies. )
denial grows ever more tempting, a holy beacon of comfort amidst the depths of tartarus. and when a voice — audible, different, REAL — echoes from within, a part of her already knew. who and what, how and where. a miniscule part, one she knows not whom it truly belongs to. knowledge shared ? curiosity unwelcome, yet so ingrained. as hands — on as this engineer prefers to be, observation surely seemed preferable. perhaps if she had stayed at the facility longer — if she had bothered to look into the eddie brook disaster. ( how do you even ask such a thing ? hello sir, can I ask you some things about the alien inside you ? )
little bird knows of only one person who could possibly have answers — one person who knows what this is like. and yet she thinks it would be unfair to pull him back into it — if he indeed got out. let this be her own problem to manage.
so disconnected from haunting voice inside own head, still does pulse spike and instincts flare. little doe indeed, every inch screams for her to run — but where to ? they say you cannot run from yourself, and oh how she loathes the phrase. and if running is not an option, let it be met with insolence instead, ever defensive.
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The bears are back in town
(The bears are back in town)
(Not the culprit, but a pretty close approximation.)
So, just after midnight there’s this crash outside, a sound all too familiar to anyone who lives in bear country. Sure enough, I shine a light outside and there’s a bear hauling out a trash bag and ripping it open. Nothing to do about that until the morning, of course, when dawn’s first light revealed the extent of the crnage.
There was one new feature: I couldn’t make out if a bear was involved or not, but round about the same time a truck parked nearby had its alarm go off, headlights flashing. There didn’t seem to be any damage done when I looked again in daylight. Pretty big coincidence, though. (Pauses to contemplate the pretty big coincidence there in the photo.)
Here we go again--
The nights are getting warmer, it won't be long
Won't be long till the summer comes
Now that the bears are here again...
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