#dead speeks

[risenlikethedead]

it's my birthday tomorrow, which people won't see but I want to document because :) I never thought I would make it to this age. It's not a golden bday or a milestone or anything, I'm just taking more time this year to appreciate that I made it! I survived! I am so proud of myself, even though sometimes it feels hard to be❤️

[neon-danger]

if dirty work isn’t in your top five we can’t be friends

[srfsposts-darkdream]

[hadesbullshit]

I'm watching Phil's resent vod and I'M A PROPHET. PROPHET (/ref)

when qTubbo died and qPhil just sort of laughed it off i said it was bc he doesn't rly view death as the end, with Tallulah speeking to the dead and him being married to 1 or 2 (bc mumza is now cannon) death beings. to him death is just another place not something irreversable. which he just confirmed

[scarlet742]

So… amidst my cycle and am suddenly rightfully mad at the society for forgetting the fact that everyone voted for our Aelin to be dead !!! NOT ONE ROYAL ! (Other than our lovely Rowan and Fenrys) whose lives she saved had the curtsy or goodness in them to let the queen see her land first, witness her homeland, feel the feeling of being HOME !!!

They all blatantly just voted yes to the fact that she’ll sacrifice herself there and then.

How come our fandom is not aggravated about this fact !!?? Moreover, we literally got

fenrys going “you’d rather my queen die than your king?” In a deathly soft voice to chaol which is same if not more serious than when az went “be careful how you speek to my high lady”!!!!!!!!

[staijey-the-creator]

WHY IS MY PLAYLIST PLAYING ALL THE RIGHT SONGS FOR THE RIGHT SCENES ITS MAKING ME FEEL MORE FEELINGS HJFCGHVGDJXGFCFKGH

ough this fic is making me Feel Things

[cyberfox123]

Noobs awakening

" We're am I ....... What happened to me? I can't remember am I dead...? No I can't be. I am not afraid of death. So this can't be the end...I feel something what is this...Why can't I move? why can't I see...? No I will not let this happen. I want to fight I want to keep fighting. I will not move past this. "

" You will not let this happen you want to fight. I can make that happen. "

" Who are you ? "

" That doesn't matter. "

" I guess you are right.... Why can't I move ? "

" Because you are dead but I can give you your body back. "

"No... No NOOOOOOOOOOO! "

" Calm down Bi-han you have a fighter's sprite. You can be of use to me. "

" I am not your slave all never be your slave. "

" I never said slave you help me and all help you. "

" I never needed help and I am not going to start now. "

" Don't you want your revenge ? "

" Revenge for what ? "

" For the one who killed you. "

" Killed me...."

" Yes why you are still here your sole doesn't want to stop fighting. "

" Who killed me? " * I say with anger. *

" Scorpion. "

" Scorpion . " * I feel my sole burn inside. With anger and rage as I hear the name. *

" You remember the name. I can give you a chance to kill him. "

" Kill him... Yes I want that I want him dead. I want to rip is guts out. I want to rip his heart out and crush it before his eye's. "

" You sound so ... Calm as you say that. "

" Emoshios I was not allowed to show them. My Brother he would hide it. But I always new he couldn't hide it forever... I was ... I was jelious in a way.... That he could feel something.... What happened to my brother ? "

" It doesn't matter now dose it ? "

" Show me what happened to me, to my brother."

" You are not in the place to give orders. But all show you what happened to you. "

* I can see now it's me I put my hand up. * " It was not me I didn't kill your family. " * Scorpion look's at something it's me killing his family. * " That's not me. " * He takes his face off it burns fire. My skin God it hurts. *

" No MAKE IT STOP! " * I stop seeing it darkness again. *

" You asked to see now do you want a body ? "

" Yes. " * I can move now I look at my body. I am chained up. * " What is this why am I chained up like a dog let me go. " * I cleaned my teeth I try to break free. From the chains that hold me. *

" Because you won't give me your power. "

" You will never control me. When I get my chance all kill you for this. This or the next life. "

" Emmmm you say that now. But I am the only reason you are here. " * He smiled showing his teeth almost mocking me with it. *

" Smile wall you can. "

" If I give you a chance and you get your revenge. Then what will you do ? "

" I don't know kill you. "

" alright after that then. "

" Find my brother. "

" What if he doesn't want to see you ? "

* I look down then back up still trying to get free. * " Then all kill him to. "

" You are so quiet to turn on the one's who cear for you. "

" ...... I cear for know one. "

" Then why do you speek of you're Brother ? "

" Because.... I always was keeping him out of trubul. Just like Smoke was.... Smoke? Were is Smoke ? "

" You don't get anymore questions. "

" Were is kuai were is my brother only I can kill him. " * I feel something like I am becoming num. "

" Why do you want to kill him ? "

" Because he let me die. "

" He was not there how could he? "

" If he had joined with me he could of. "

" But why didn't he ? "

" I was asked because I was the best. And because he... "

" Because he what ? "

" That woman ... "

" What women ? "

* I feel darkness I feel num go up my body. * " Cyberfox he didn't want to leave her. "

" Why? "

" Because he is weak he let emoshios take him. Like he always did. Always will he let this happen. "

" That is how you see it Humm. Who am I to change your mind. "

* I see something black like tare. It is like it is coming from my chest and Takeing over me. * " What is this. " * I try to get away from it but I am chained. *

" Let's keep talking. "

" No you are doing this you are making this happen. "

" I am not doing this you are. Your anger and hatred. Everyone everything you are turning away from. Everyone you are making it happen. "

" You why do you want me so bad ? "

" You have something in you I have not seen a sole. So dark as yours it is valuable to me. Like a ruby rare and hard to find. " You cear so little about everyone. Around you that I am surprised you had anyone. I don't know if it is sad or not. I don't care really. "

* I feel the darkness num my body. It feels like I am being pulled down into it. * " You just see me as a tool just like the Grandmaster did. Just like they all do. "

" Everyone is a tool to me. But I am giving you a chance. To be your own tool but under my control. "

" How is that any different ? "

" Because as long as you kill people all let you go free. "

" I get to kill who ever I want. " * I feel it around my neck like it is choking me. But for some reason.. I am not afraid... I feel not allow... I feel I welcome it. *

" Yes anyone your heart desires. "

" My.... Heart. "

" You never really used it did you. Guess that makes it kind of... Funny. "

" I have know use for it. " * The darkness takes over it is over my mouth now. Going up to my eye's. * " No... Stop this. "

" I can't you are making it happen. "

" I am there must be someone who cears about me. "

" Why does it matter ? "

" My brother. " * I feel the darkness pull away. *

" You sure about that ? "

" Yes let me see . "

" as you wish. " * He showed me my brother he was smiling. That woman...they look happy *

" Why...? How can he be happy when I am...." * I feel the darkness take me again. * " You are showing me the wrong thing. Just like you did to Scorpion. "

" I am showing you the truth. He doesn't care what happened to you he is happy. I say his life is better without you. "

" No that's not true I can't I won't believe you. Fox... She cears My Brother cears Smoke..." * I feel the darkness pull away. *

" You will brake only a matter of time. " * He Gose to walk away. *

" Get back here let me go! "

* He stopped. * " You are not ready. "

" GET BACK HERE LET ME GOOOOOOOOO! " * I scream I pull on the chain anger it burns. I hear my voice Eco for know one to hear. I am alone but I keep screaming. My power it doesn't work I can't do anything. I keep going like I think someone will hear me. But nothing the more time passed the more I hated it. The more I hated the ones I ceard about the more. I hated them for not being there to hear me screaming. They are not hear why are they not hear? Why won't they hear me out? They should be here they should be looking for me. I can't stop thinking about it about how I died about how I was alone. About how I am here stuck in this Hell with nothing but my screaming to keep me company. The darkness it is pulling me in I try I keep fighting it. But ... Why do I fight it why don't I let it take me? It could be a good thing ... It could make me more powerful. It could give me away from here. But is losing myself the way? Should I just let it ? *

* I look around all I see is fire this place. * " I have been here before..." * I look around to see if there is a way to get out of the chains I pull so hard I feel my Bone's should break. * " I will not give up I am a Lin Kuei Assassin this will not happen. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! " * The chain brakes. * " That's it I got one now the other. " * I feel tired from trying to break it but I can't stop now. I pull on the chain it is easier this one I fall on the ground. *" Dame it AAA. " * My arm's are bleeding but I don't care.*

" You got out I see that has never happened before. "

* I look up and stand up barley. * " You are stupid to come back I should. Kill you were you stand Quan chi. "

" Hahaha. " * He laughed almost making fun of me with it. " * You have know power here... me on the other hand. My power is at it's most powerful. You can barely stand why don't you just stop. None of your friends Family cear you pushed everyone away. Why would they save you nothing but a assassin. Killer cold blooded what you were made for.

" I don't care if they do I just want to get out of here. " * I feel the darkness pull again. * " You are right I was made to kill not feeling... Is just part of it. "

" You were always used your hole life as a wepon. Not making your own life. Being told how to be how to live. Don't you want your chance. To do what you want to get your revenge. On all who used you ? " * His voice sounds worried. But I know it's fake. *

" You talk to much. " * I breathe heavy my body feels weak. I don't like this felling. I hate it but he is right.* " I have been used my hole life. As the Grandmaster see's fit. My brother doesn't even remember what happened. He was lucky to forget.... I hate him for it. " * I feel burning Inside again the darkness it feels like it is helping me. * " I hate the Lin Kuei I am nothing to them. I fight for them and I get nothing. I hate you Lin Kuei I hate you Grandmaster I hate you kuai I hate everyone who stands by it. I hate you I hate you I hate you I HATE YOU!" * I scream at the top of my lungs. I don't stop I don't care I hate them all I hate them. It's all I know all I ever new. * "THEY DID THIS TO ME THEY TRAPPED ME HERE ALL THERE FAULT! I HATE THEM ALL ALL KILL EVERY LAST ONE ALL DRAG THEM TO HELL ALL WATCH THERE DIEING BREATH! ALL WATCH THEM STRUGGLE FOR ONE LAST BREATH! AS I TAKE IT FROM THEM AND TORMENT THEM FOR EVER! " * The darkness takes over me it covers me I can't move. But I don't care I want this all I ever wanted. Was to be able to be myself so now they see what they have done. What they pushed me too. I can see now my body is covered by it. All I feel is anger and hate. *

* He smiles. * " You are almost ready just one more thing. " * He raised his hand. *

" What are you doing to me. " * I feel strang I look down. My chest opens up but it doesn't hurt. * " What is that? " * Something comes out it is covered in the darkness it drips from it and moves like.... It is pumping. *

" Don't worry you won't miss it. " * He takes it and it disappeared. * " Now you are ready go and kill. "

" Don't tell me what to do.. " * I look at him with rage. *

" All give you what you want. " * A portal opens up. * " Go and get your revenge. "

* I look at the portal with out a thought I walk in to see what is on the other side. Quan chi is a fool he thinks he had me. Under his control he never has and never will I am coming for you all. My brother .... No your not my brother not anymore. Smoke all see you soon I feel... Cyberfox all make you watch as I take kuai's life. Your screams will bring me to a smile. And the Lin Kuei I am not anymore. All make you all pay I am know longer Bi-han Sub-zero I am now Noob saibot.

[iwillkillyousoquickly]

i made a couple cherubs their names are calbidus and caldaver calbidus is a muse of life that **loves plants and biology** (may or may not have been driven crazy by their sister) "He like's to speak properly, if not like a taco." caldaver is a lord of doom that loves dead things and eating meat (is incredibly mentally challenged) "She tries' to speek normally, but often mizunderztandz thingz." during childhood they would write notes to each other most of their games would consist of calbidus attempting to hide their plants and caldaver finding and eating them anyway after their session was complete they ended up creating the planet venus which was supposed to be full of life, only to be doomed by caldaver to be nothing but a waste land these are the first of many cherubs i will be drawing and adding to this tumblr please wait for more

[yippie-kai-gay]

!!

TWO FOR ONE DISCOUNT!!!1!

(Art by my lovely wife)

This is Manius. He’s a vampire, specifically a tzimisce vampire (from vampire the masquerade lore). He’s the only man in the world that I would ever marry. He’s from ancient greece and he loves his dead wife. He’s the sire of Violetta (my awful evil girl who makes people into arts and crafts) and he only speeks Ancient Greek (unless he’s being dramatic). He punches men that he thinks suck (and he’s right, the men do suck).

The second one is under a read more because her nipples are out and not everyone wants to be jumpscared by nipples

(Art by the talented @cryptid-coyote)

This is Josefine. She is ALSO a vampire, but she’s a country gangrel (also from vampire the masquerade lore). She can turn into a horse, and she’s big and decently hairy. She refuses to put on a shirt or bra (queen) and always wears her gay little hat. She has two girlfriends (Juliet and Juniper) who are also country gangrel vampires. She regularly eats men who annoy her.

[myadventureswithmanofsteel]

The Revenge Of The Krypton Man!!

What an awesome story!

It really is a highlight, with every member of the Superman creative team getting a chance to shine, the art on this arc is really soild.

Even though the main plot of the story is Superman battle with The Eradicator, its once again the subplots and supporting characters that really got me excited in this arc.

The Kents meet the Whites, Cat's problems with Vinnie Edge, Gangbuster and Adam's adventer in Suicide Slum, Jimmy getting fired from the Planet, Hamilton exploring The Fortress of Solitude, Pete and Lana moving to DC, The Guradian feeling trapped by Cadmus! Let's not forget about the introductions of Keith and Ron Troup! There is just so much going on in these pages that its hard to rember that the price of a cab went up from $6.50 to $7.00!

Not to leave out Superman, he goes on quite a journey in this, he really comes terms with his Krypton heritage in this, and full on decides that Earth is his home, and his fights with the Eradicator are really exciting and epic!

Speeking of The Eradicator, he really is a great and menacing villain. Unfortunately It looks like he is dead, so I guess his potential was wasted.

This is a really epic story!

[cagemasterfantasy]

Druid (Circle of Wildfire)

Druids within the Circle of Wildfire understand that destruction is sometimes the precursor of creation, such as when a forest fire promotes later growth. These druids bond with a primal spirit that harbors both destructive and creative power, allowing the druids to create controlled flames that burn away one thing but give life to another.

When you join this circle at level 2, you have formed a bond with a wildfire spirit, a primal being of creation and destruction. Your link with this spirit grants you access to some spells when you reach certain levels in this class.

Once you gain access to one of these spells, you always have it prepared, and it doesn't count against the number of spells you can prepare each day. If you gain access to a spell that doesn't appear on the Druid Spell List the spell is nonetheless a druid spell for you.

Druid Level 2: Burning Hands and Cure Wounds

Druid Level 3: Flaming Sphere and Scorching Ray

Druid Level 5: Plant Growth and Revivify

Druid Level 7: Aura of Life and Fire Shield

Druid Level 9: Flame Strike and Mass Cure Wounds

Summon Wildfire Spirit: At level 2, you can summon the primal spirit bound to your soul. As an action, you can expend one use of your Wild Shape to summon your wildfire spirit, rather than assuming a beast form.

The spirit appears in an unoccupied space of your choice that you can see within 30 feet of you. Each creature within 10 feet of the spirit (other than you) when it appears must succeed on a Dexterity saving throw against your spell save DC or take 2d6 fire damage.

The spirit is friendly to you and your companions and obeys your commands. See this creature's game statistics in the Wildfire Spirit stat block, which uses your proficiency bonus (PB) in several places. You determine the spirit's appearance. Some spirits take the form of a humanoid figure made of gnarled branches covered in flame, while others look like beasts wreathed in fire.

In combat, the spirit shares your initiative count, but it takes its turn immediately after yours. The only action it takes on its turn is the Dodge action, unless you take a bonus action on your turn to command it to take another action. That action can be one in its stat block or some other action. If you are incapacitated, the spirit can take any action of its choice, not just Dodge.

The spirit manifests for 1 hour, until it is reduced to 0 hit points, until you use this feature to summon the spirit again, or until you die.

Wildfire Spirit

Small Elemental

Ac: 13 (Natural Armor)

Hp: 5+ 5 times your druid level

Walking and Flying (hover) speed of 30ft

Str:10

Dex: 14

Con: 14

Int: 13

Wis: 15

Cha: 11

Damage Immunities: Fire

Condition Immunities: Charmed Frightened Grappled Prone and Restrained

Darkvision 60ft

Languages: Understands the languages you speek

Actions:

Flame Seed: Ranged Weapon Attack your spell modifier to hit, range 60ft, one target you can see Hit: 1d6 + your PB fire damage

Fiery Teleportation: The spirit and each willing creature of your choice within 5 feet of it teleport up to 15 feet to unoccupied spaces you can see. Then each creature within 5 feet of the space that the spirit left must succeed on a Dexterity saving throw against your spell save DC or take 1d6 + PB fire damage.

Enhanced Bond: At level 6, the bond with your wildfire spirit enhances your destructive and restorative spells. Whenever you cast a spell that deals fire damage or restores hit points while your wildfire spirit is summoned, roll a d8, and you gain a bonus equal to the number rolled to one damage or healing roll of the spell.

In addition, when you cast a spell with a range other than self, the spell can originate from you or your wildfire spirit.

Cauterizing Flames: At level 10, you gain the ability to turn death into magical flames that can heal or incinerate. When a Small or larger creature dies within 30 feet of you or your wildfire spirit, a harmless spectral flame springs forth in the dead creature's space and flickers there for 1 minute. When a creature you can see enters that space, you can use your reaction to extinguish the spectral flame there and either heal the creature or deal fire damage to it. The healing or damage equals 2d10 + your Wisdom modifier.

You can use this reaction a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, and you regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest.

Blazing Revival: At level 14, the bond with your wildfire spirit can save you from death. If the spirit is within 120 feet of you when you are reduced to 0 hit points and thereby fall unconscious, you can cause the spirit to drop to 0 hit points. You then regain half your hit points and immediately rise to your feet.

Once you use this feature, you can't use it again until you finish a long rest.

Source: Tasha's Cauldron of Everything

[malzanya]

Isaac Acerbi. Thoughts?

isaac is great i'm a sucker for the kind of character who shows up early in a story and the protagonist helps them out so they're like "you're a good guy, i'm gonna stick with you." and then they get dragged along on some insane adventure just because they happened to meet a guy. isaac's one of my favourite examples because he just doesn't give a shit he totally rolls with the punches, you can take that dude to the satellite and he's just like "well my buddy nic is here so i guess i'm here too" that dude guns down ancient abominations entirely because he's so dedicated to hanging out with the guy who saved him from a frog in a cave

and then it's all Over and he's done all this crazy shit and destroyed the garden and he gets out and he goes "well that was some crazy stuff." and starts another gang it's so good! guy who witnessed the horrors, shot at them till they died and just got back to his day job (organised crime) i love it.

it's so good too how he's like a straight up mobster, part of a gang in turf wars Mobster but he just spends the entire game being a reasonable dude. he's like, probably not even third for most insane party member i'd argue he's the most well adjusted next to maybe eliose who gets a pass for being the ghost of a dead kid and enoch, who doesn't speek. you somehow put this mobster next to a group of SAPU members, a NEET and a guy in crusader cosplay and you somehow guy "i find the mobster most reasonable here". we probably should just shoot the horrors to death, you're right man!

[neon-danger]

okay so I’ve been on an abhorrently evil supervillain route in baldurs gate right and like no I don’t need jalex to be murder boyfriends but the angst of good aligned durge is so ????

[grim-faux]

3 _ 44 _ Tomorrow and Beyond the Horizon

First – An Echo Rebounds Through the Silent City

A minor TRIGGER WARNING for animal death. It's not a super graphic scene, but tread with caution and remember this is Little Nightmares.

Thick dust wheezed from between the two books as he set aside another volume. Seeping through the multitudes of tomes piled between the shelves had proved the most tedious errand, but simplified by degrees with the repeated titles layered in the heap he sifted through. Duplicates benefited this search, many of the tomes on the surface took the brunt of damage but with some digging and scouring through pages he found sections of text still legible. This did not save him from accumulating a large mound of nothing useful.

Currently, the Thin Man was held up on some terminology he was working through. Though he had improved in literary comprehension since abandoning the Tower, some terms persisted elude him with the meaning and purpose. He knew speek from the symbols he compiled and fabricated meaning from, but it was anything but perfect. He did his best to recognize errors and correct them, but his source was a speek which was in all intent and purpose dead.

One perplexity was that of the difference between the ‘fiction’ and ‘nonfiction’ parallels; in the case of one ‘being’ and the other ‘not being’ of the term. Well, that was obvious. He managed to secure a book that did aid in his quest for answers to simple inquiries on basic terminology, thus consulted the pages on the distinction he failed to grasp.

For a topic to qualify as nonfiction, the concepts or ‘truths’ must be of proven documentation, or a cluster of factors generally accepted by scientifically certified methodology. More terms lost to his fleeting grasp, but all that for later. In case of fictional segments, it was a purposeful deceit or story designed by falsities that could not be proven nor accepted as probability. Did this mean that he was a believer in fiction? In his pursuit to disrupt the Tower and seek an end to the monstrous beast – if not reach its end, then he would pursue any history of its origins. That might be the key to discovering the nature of its weaknesses –whatever feat might have nullified a monster in its conception. Even he did not know a way to detach the Broadcaster’s fate from the tether of the Tower. As far as he knew the cycle spanned into infinity. That was the truths of his situation.

Glitching up from the musty and tattered couch, the Thin Man stretched his arms above his hat and stretched; a trailing wisp of static flashed across his outline as the threads and crinkles of his suit fixed themselves. The building was at best an inhospitable mess, the roof caved in at one end and anything not subjected to the elements was tussled or crumpled. This must be the work of some geographic upheaval, if the misshapen floor was any indication. Either the structure rested above a growing sinkhole, or the foundation was crowded by the broken roads and allies buckling around. It was a shame, as the location had proven much value in the materials he perused through.

Yet, none of the volumes had any merit or indication of the information he sought. The notion of which only came to him when he realized he had sifted through at least half the piles with no noteworthy progress, aside from shifting the massive heaps around. Book-by-book. At another time he would return and peruse the volumes, but with no insight to his investigation it was time to move on and seek new regions.

He elected two volumes to review later, one geared to construction and another centered on “hot air” flight ships. The ship book included images of aircraft with the Eye, an artifact that appeared in any tome from common signs to bulk goods and crates. The inclusion of the Eye was commonplace in the typical world, yet its recurrence in remedial imagery from the time before did interest him a great deal. It was the Eye that observed him from the front of the door, when he was a child and seeking that which called.

Residents of the Pale City slapped the eye onto any significant landmark or location. It was the only tie between the city and the horrendous Tower at its core, yet it was a dead end. What did a restaurant have to do with the Eye?

It took some navigation around the ruined innards of the building, but he located a viable entrance through a utility closet cluttered by the bodies of Viewers and furniture from some ancient cataclysm. The proximity to the street allowed for an easy relocation with a swirl of static, and once he was beneath the wilting skyrises he renewed his silent march through the city. The lamps blazed, cutting through the heavy drapery of mist and night; in the shattered window of a nearby shop, a television crooned to a vacant road.

While the coast was clear, he set his palms onto the screen and let the transmission sweep him into the nearest available transmitter.

The familiar trace of the child remained absent. At some point, the boy grew bored and wandered off as was typical. He did not recall when or what last the child was up to, but it was likely most obnoxious. What sympathetic gleam of the cycle permitted him the pause which allowed the prolonged opportunity to search those books? Who could say?  

A faint whisper of caution slipped through his elated musing as he passed beneath a blazing streetlamp, as if a light bulb had flashed. But went out instead of beamed.

Standing in the shadow, the Thin Man turned his gaze and searched the reaching horizon for the searing wink of the tallest spire.

It was not an impossible assessment to suspect, and he would have no way of ever knowing. He might wander the streets blissful and ignorant to where the boy may have relocated himself. The Thin Man doubted, there was not a chance that the child might return to stare at those doors and entertain the thought of entering when there was no longer need to.

“It calls to me.”

Trails of rain slipped off his hat as he turned his head away and resumed his languid pace. The rain glossed alley chattered with the symphony of icy pellets, serenading him with its company the way it did during his boyhood journey when he and Her braved the deep city, hurtling toward unwavering eventuals. Sharp gales snapped at his suit and cut across the waterlogged furniture crammed into the buildings side, among heaps of ruble from crumbling walls. He adjusted his hat, though the faithful headpiece would go nowhere with the driving gale – it was habit. The child was always losing his hats, abandoning them after a tussle. Never looking back. Hats could be replaced.

The books were getting soaked. He tucked them under his arm and turned into an alley, glitching and passing the scattered fragments of obscure debris and rusted fences. Moving out into the next road, he discovered another television partially buried under layers of brick. This time, he did test the transmission for tears or tampering.

This whole fiasco was a deplorable nuisance.

No sign or trace of the shared transmission anywhere. Usually the child made his appearance, and always at the most inopportune moment. They were drawn to the other and nothing would ever change that; save for, if the Thin Man himself decided to challenge the Tower. Take his chances. At least he would know where he would wind up, or he supposed… well, the child would not be along to witness the aftermath. Eventually, those truths would discover the child.

Countless evenings and days of wandering, rainfall and fog, across rooftops, or through gutted building interiors – none of it produced a trance of the shared transmission. Somewhere in his endless wanderings, he gave pause in one of the obscure sections of decrepit halls. He located a large room on one of the upper floors, the space harbored a secluded television, along with a long table and many scattered pairs of shirts with pants. He discarded the dusty clothing draped across one chair and sat, slouching forward; a cigarette stub between his fingers, and the forgotten books set beside his elbow. With a scratchy breath, he turned his focus to the television.

Nothing displayed but snow and vague outlines squirming behind the glass, of shapes resembling sacks or grotesque bodies twitching. The occasional image of the city landscape winked through, or the emergency broadcast (one of his temper tantrums still echoing decades later). The silhouettes of adults flashed, followed by some program of a creature doing a hokey demonstration with an electric device and bathtub. Uninteresting patches of scenery swelled beneath the vertical lines, trying to imitate a fictional state he would never comprehend. He did not grow up drinking the Signal, and never became intoxicated by the poison of its lies. He was not a child enamored by distractions, he sought something else behind the screen, at the end of a long hall. The beckoning of something waiting, of someone anticipating the door….

To….

W̷͖̦̍̔̂̎͠Ẹ̷̪̾̿̚

̴̟̌̽̓Ŏ̵̤̙̤́̌̔ͅF̷͖̟̽ͅ ̵͉̩͉͕̖̿Ț̵̥̈̍͠ͅH̵̰̙̖͐͂Ë̸̡͚̞̗̎̀͘͜ ̴̘͍̣̉͝

̶̝̩̣̂̊Ķ̴̞̣̎̇Ň̴̼̖̲̣̗Ȯ̷͇̦̈́͑̏͜Ŵ̵̛̲̖̥̣̺͆̇̆ ̶͕͚̖̅Y̵͔͊̀͒͊O̷̝̲̗̪͔͛͝U̴̯̼͊̆͌

̴̨̣̭̝̑͌̑̎

̴̟̌̽̓Ŏ̵̤̙̤́̌̔ͅF̷͖̟̽ͅ ̵͉̩͉͕̖̿Ț̵̥̈̍͠ͅH̵̰̙̖͐͂Ë̸̡͚̞̗̎̀͘͜ ̴̘͍̣̉͝

̶̺̯̭̉̅̽́̒B̶͉̮̻̉͌R̴̛͇̈́̂͘Ǫ̶̖͗̾̋̽A̵̯͕̫͐̑̏̚D̴͙̖̤͈̥̿͘Ĉ̸̰̥̰̬̉͘A̴̼̺̩̼̩͑́̀̎S̷̩̥̙̑̔T̵͎̱̻̞̂̉̋̒͊Ȩ̶̙͔̣̮́̌̆Ŗ̵̠̯̀́̂̕

S̶̮̞̙̺̲͊̑̊Ȋ̸͇͊̀͝͝G̶̲̐̓͠N̶̖͚̦̔̚A̵͇̣̼̣̙͌̀̉L̵̻̾

̵̪̞̰̞̼̍̐̚C̴̭̠͎̀͂H̵̰͔͕̓͋̂̿A̵̧̫̲̺̥̾͝M̷̡̩̣͎͑́͝ͅP̸̳̱̻̍͌̓Ĭ̸̺̺͖̪̌̅̈́Ǫ̵̿̊̅̚Ṉ̷̢̥̿̅̎͌

̶͉͊̄͝͝

The child knotted up against the back of the chair, making himself as small as possible while huddled beneath the edges of his coat. The walls reverberated, not booming or overpowering, but rattled through his bones and nerves like a pulsing current. The noise of it grated within his skull, pressing against his thoughts. His head filled with the gurgling croon of gnashing skin and squirming folds, undulating as he cowered further into the sheltering embrace of his scrawny arms.

“Shut up.”

P̵͎͔̬̺̋̈̋A̶̞̰̅͛T̶̠͎͑͒Ḯ̵̠̝̚E̸̮͕̭̘̺͛͌̐̈́͠Ň̶̢͎̭̄͛͗C̸̤̦͋̀̈͝Ę̴̛̺͕̹̍̊͝

̶̢̲̜͔̱͒̑̋̄

̴̮͙̐I̸̘̲̹̺͖͑̃͗̚N̶͓͎̑̄͆͠͝ ̵͍͚̯̊̒̽ͅD̵̞́̅̊̏̃U̴̘̙̼̤̪̒͘̚E̵̘̓͐ ̶̨̖͈̜͋́̽ͅT̴̡̡̪̬̹̈́I̸̢͖͖̞͇͋̈́̄M̴̼̄̌E̵̝̟͑̈͌̀

̷̠͈̺̾

̵̡̢̠̥̩̉̈

̴̣̩͚̟͉̿̊͒F̸̢̫͚̗́͋̿̂Ä̶͍͚͉́͌I̵̩̲͒̽͊̿T̶̺̣͕͌̀H̴̳̖̯̝̍́F̶̘̞͙͚͋͗̊͝U̴̯̔̽Ḷ̶̪̓

̵̯̣̠̻̎

̴͈̜͋̐̅̇

̷̖̪̱͂͌̊̓͜Y̶̥̹̬͆̽̊̃̏O̴̱̊͌̒͂͘U̷̫̙̜̒̏̂͠

“Hate you.” He sniffled, gulping down thick breaths before he wheezed. “Let me alone.” The shivering of his shoulders was pathetic, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to see the walls oozing closer.

Ẇ̴̡̠̳͈E̸͔̼͕͋̀̑̈́͋ ̷̧̟͕̊́́S̷͈̫̹͎̃̑͒̕͠H̸̢̟̾̀̐͛̏Ḁ̶̣̝̣̺̏L̴̞̙̉Ļ̵̥̽̌̀̚ͅ

̵͔̟̞̇̆͐͜Ă̴̊̾̕̚ͅW̴͓͎̠̏̌̔̓ͅA̸̬̲̣̓İ̷̱͍͉͐̈̇T̴̪̱͚͍̄̈́

̷̞̤̼̈́͂̾

̵̨̼͕̳̃̇̃̒́A̸̛͖͋͛̉͊S̷̝̜͍̺̐̃̑͘ ̷̮̪̊͛̏̄̌A̷̠̙͍̹͑͌̀͝L̵͚̱̮̪̾͆W̴͈̙̖̤̊́͗͝Ä̸͔̘̠̦͎́̎̓̀̔Y̶̳̝̋̌̈̕ͅS̴̡̛̼̯̖͑͌́

̶̪̼̥͇͇̈́

̴̝͇̹̇͒̑̏͒

̵̣̀̽̍̄Ì̷͙͈͒̾͜Ň̴̝̀̈͘͠E̶͇͇̭̦̾V̶̪̩͇̯̏͐͑I̷̧͍͇̭̖̿T̶̝͍̹̏͒̓̍A̵̩̦̟̣͋͒̌̏B̶͈̲͗̂̎L̵̛̫̥̭̒̐̃̕Ĕ̵͓̰̞͛͠

When the scratching sounds vacated his mind, and his head turned calm, he waited still. He waited for such a long while, forever almost, until his toes ached, and his shoulder buzzed. Only then would the child risk uncoiling by a fraction. Enough to poke his head up from his folded arms, and check the walls over, search the distant and shrouded door; all to ensure no eyes remained. Usually. Usually. The beast was good about collecting all its wriggly pieces. He remained fully bundled inside his coat, while he slipped his head far back to elevate his gaze with the ceiling, and the light suspended high above. The only light he ever saw, that he could bask in. The only source of radiance he wanted to risk in this room. The less he knew about the walls, the better.

This is where he belonged. No one would find him here. No one could hurt him. Not anymore. Never again.

He shut his eyes and let the warmth of colors melt through his eyelids. It was so reminiscent of something he had seen somewhere, though he couldn’t pinpoint from where. It was… familiar, and that felt good. Even something only a little familiar felt… happy.

__

Snorting and hoisting his head up, the Thin Man addressed the slightly more tolerable present. Was he dreaming? No. A memory he loathed. They snuck up on him when he least expected it. The walls within the Tower, festering with a vile creature. That had been the least of his worries, the recollection of that and certain inevitables, sent a shiver through him.

He uncoiled from his hunched posture and pressed a hand against his eyes, massaging out the dread. His face was still wet from the storm. When he drew his hand away, he almost expected the child to be seated on the table in his typical fashion. Watching, like he was prone to. Creepy little brat.

Just to be certain, he cast his eyes around. Actively searching rather feel for if the child had somehow managed to find this place. For a spell the Thin Man was at a loss to where he-himself had secluded to, aside from some vague building with a room and a television. It was not an apartment with spare rooms, it appeared to be a place where residents once gathered.

In an era before the Tower.

He lit a cigarette, then, pushed out from his seat. In a casual glitch and flicker he bypassed the chairs encircling the table and approached the television. Some time ago, the child did use the transmission. The embedded frequency was still there, the static particles swirling deep within the snow. Tuning from this side to intercept the pathway was simple, the frequency was now connected and the buzzing snow dispersed, molding into a scenery of an unknown location. Shoving his hands against the warm glass he forced his way through.

Unsurprisingly, the child was not present when he emerged. The metal desk that held the television collapsed when pummeled by the volatile aura of skewered temporal space, and a nearby Viewer was repelled backwards. He managed to extract himself fully from the screen before the box erupted in glass and embers. On the other side of the room, the unfortunate Viewer gave a croaked wail before disintegrating. The clothing drifted to the floor, adding to another heap deflated on the patchy rug.

Smoke trailed the Thin Man’s hat as he clicked by the clothing, first exploring a room to the right. The whereabouts appeared to be some dwelling, going off of the windows in each room and the scenery of a tree and a road outside, along with a nearby structure of similar dimensions. Upon discovering the whereabouts of the kitchen, he is… a bit concerned.

Some event had occurred. Skimming across the shattered fronts of countertops, dishware and glass gleamed under a layer of water, and froth curdled everywhere – the entire story eluded him. One element was for certain, two Viewers lay as crooked islands within the bubbling swamp. Certified dead. The culprit was the sink cammed with dishes and sludge, the faucet continued to gush water and the surplus of floodwaters roamed across the floors, and out into the connecting corridors. He could not identify any electric devices hooked to an outlet, or lamps, or anything that may have set the water alight. Some other incident may have occurred, though whatever happened was not recent. As evident by the swollen bodies, the flesh already unraveling.

Exhaling a thick gray plume, he opted to search elsewhere and departed the perplexing scene.

After wasting his time with an exhaustive search of every room and closet, he flittered through the barricaded doorway and navigated the roads. The home sat clustered among numerous building copies, wedged tight together and sprouted somewhere on the outskirts of the city. For this hour the rain gave pause in its relentless drilling, the obscured distance was masked by curtains of fog that suffocated everything except the space he occupied. Without the repetitive pattering, the silence became unnerving with only his steps rebounding through the gray air. The only other sounds was the whisper of wind skipping across glassy puddles.

Crates and sunken trunks cluttered every patch of road or sidewalk, the miasma intermixed with mounds of furniture torn from the surrounding buildings. The roads themselves would be difficult to navigate for a living creature, the surfaces carved by pits and sections of the asphalt fissured. The Thin Man pulsed in swells of particles and glitched across gaps, or bypassed barricades of makeshift fences. He never dawdled long except to locate the next clearing. In the waterlogged dirt spread before one home, the curious arrangements of bones jutted from the clay. He nearly missed the scene, if not for the grinning skull with gravel jammed into one eye socket. He admitted the oddity of the sight, but continued to disperse and appear across the nearby yards and homes.

Only the few dwellings that remained intact (for the most part) had power, the battered windows flickered a frail light as if a lure for the desperate. A television and its cast of characters peered out of the screen, lost in another world while the realm beyond the wood and glass prison deteriorated. An uproar of laughter mocked the Thin Man, before the saturated roof at last caved in.

At last or by a whim? Who could say, the Thin Man did not mourn the loss.

While crossing a waterlogged yard, the tall thin man paused beneath a tree and lit a fresh cigarette. He took a moment to observe the deserted terrain and misty buildings hollowed of all presence, trying with some fleeting interest to imagine an obscure figment lifted from any of the books he browsed. He sought a world lost to a realm that no longer existed, but found even with his state of thought he was utterly lost to what such a world might have been. If it even existed once. These bleak dwellers were the obituary of dead world, inscribing the illusions of a dream the residents forsaken.

Hmm. He was one to talk.

Tilting his head back, he peered through the bare branches and watched the shifting dark clouds, the muted light and monochrome saturation. A low groan churned the dark water above, and a gust of wind sent a sheet of water from the tree to brush across his suit. He did not bother dismissing the droplets this time. 

This area was not the worst to absentmindedly amble through. Aside from the one Viewer he dissolved upon arrival, the roads remained open and clear of hostility. His only companion was the hum of static bristling his suit, and the languid wind sweeping among the debris of makeshift fences and whatever else was cast into the yards. He explored through countless neighborhoods and dead end roads, sticking to the few segments of pavement that remained stable. In one side of the housing division, a massive chasm splint through the earth and three buildings along its edge, the cavernous grin melted into the distant fog leaving the imagination to ponder its end - if there was one. Though he could shift to the other side and continue through the next yard, the child would have been forced to seek another route. Thus, he departed the obstacle and the faint chitter of flaking rocks.

While browsing through a district of demolished and consisting of mostly inside out dwellings, he caught a tinge of the transmission. A mostly solid abode looked vacant, the large windows boarded up, and all the paneling nailed tight across the doors front. He flashed in through a shattered window on the lower floor and let the serenity of this derelict place settle around his form, mingle with the static curling off his shoulders and hat. No trace of sound and nothing to indicate what would be a draw, aside from utter abandonment. Abandonment could be the child’s most faithful ally.

He exhaled smoke and clicked towards a doorway. Around him the walls creaked and moaned, outside the wind was picking up. Within the corridors an assortment of desks and other furniture decorated the floors, all in disarray but still whole. The walls and tables catered to some pictures in frames, but whatever was displayed in a time before was no more. The glass was tarnished, and the frames twisted.

The backside of the home lay in ruin and scrubbed clean by the harsh elements. Still, a lone staircase was solid enough to deliver him to the upper floor—

Something fluttered between two doorways. Not far from where he materialized in a sweep of static on the top landing. The Thin Man crept over to the thing, only to discover it was a bit of tattered cloth. He was not quite fooled, the transmission prickled nearby though not this close.

Exploring to the end of the corridor revealed a corner, and then a few doors around the bend. He unlocked the one with a large break in the bottom.

Rickety furniture littered the room, and large windows to one side might have offered a view. Though boards now covered the patches of shattered glass, mostly. Erosion and constant storms tore some of the impromptu barriers clear of the opening, allowing the harsh weather to claw up the floor. He left the door open and crushed out his smoke, then, gave the space a brief examination. The room was the typical despondent style, all the rot in order. From a cursory glance, this area was long abandoned. Of course. Children recognized a threat before it appeared, before it was announced. Of course.

Some while ago, he had forgotten why he had come to this area. He had doubts - unfounded and foolish, but he had been.... The child would one day do away with him, and harassing the boy would expedite the eventual. As well, the child was the only force which could grant this retirement. For this reason, he held stakes in the boy's whereabouts. Such was the perpetuating cycle.

The child did not emerge as he normally would. He let all misgivings slide away and navigated among the furniture pieces, toppled or broken. To one side of the room, he located a low table.

“Child?” No response. “Hiding from me?” He did not expect a reply. Hearing his voice usually coaxed the child out. Then again, the boy only blundered into his presence while the Thin Man had other occupations. This was unusual, but that did not warrant such shyness.

Slowly, he eased all the way down, until his elbows supported his frame and allowed him to check under the bottom shelf of the coffee table. As he sensed, the child was there. He gawked out with a face much too puzzled to be the boy, some sort of stuffed toy crushed to his chest. No hat, not surprising.

“Why not come out?” he crooned. “Come here. Let me see you. I was waiting for you, wondering why this boy was avoiding me. Will you not come out?” It was likely best to let this be, the child looked all right. Filthy, as usual, covered in dust and everything else. The eyes remained fixed on him and unblinking. "Very well then."

Upon easing back on his arms, the child actually did emerge, but only enough to stay concealed by the front of the table's lowest shelf. The Thin Man scooted back further, avoiding distortions or glitching. The child looked utterly out of it. Now that he was closer, the Thin Man saw with a blow of dread what he was actually holding.

The child was covered in feathers, looking something like a downy chicken. This might have been endearing, if not for the bird he was chewing on. How very disgusting and heartbreaking.

“Mono.” What was he even doing? Why? When did this happen?

Briefly, the child seemed to ponder, clutching the ruined thing tighter to his chest. For an agonizing length of time the Thin Man gaped at the boy, unsure what to do or how to approach. He wanted to tear the child out and rip away the soggy ratty mess. This entire time he tried not to... and all those bones…

He could not handle this.

At last, the boy departed his shelter and inched his way closer, prompting the Thin Man to ease back further and perch on his knees. For a long time, the Thin Man uttered not a sound, aside from the steady bristle of static apart of his corporal form. Outside, the wind flapped across the crooked eaves of the home and teased at the gaps in the boards blotting out the world. After ages of the disquiet, the boy hoisted the limp creature up in his arms; the whole thing practically as big as him. The birds head sagged, and the tongue poked out from its slender beak.

“Eat?” rasped the child.

The Thin Man fought to rouse himself back to some awareness, but his spiraling thoughts could not find purchase in the tumult waves of panic. Where to begin with explaining this was not right? How long was... when did it all start? If the boy was gone enough to prey on animals, what might he chew on next? This was not mere hunger, it could not be. He did not know where to begin.

“You… d̴o̶  ̶n̷o̶t̴ ̵ need to d̴o̸ ̶t̸h̸i̶s̵,” the static grated in his voice, causing the child to withdraw. “I̴t̸  ̷i̴s̴ alright, no r̶u̴n̵n̴i̶n̸g̵.̴ We will find food. R̷e̶a̶l̵ ̸ f̵o̸o̶d̸.̶ This is n̶o̴t̵ ̷... g̵o̷o̵d̵ for you.” Very carefully, he reached out and snagged the crooked wing by a bent feather.

“Nuh. Sss'frecsh.” The boy tugged the bird away by a fraction and bit onto the chest. Thankfully, he only got a mouthful of feathers for the effort and sputtered at the sticky down. This did not deter the boy from fighting to hold on fast, while the Thin Man tugged the raggedy carcass along with the child, out from beneath the tables edge. The Thin Man finally snagged him by the wonderful coats backside and shook the floppy mess loose. With a flick, it’s gone. Mono looked so bewildered and ruined by the loss.

“Let us leave and f̵i̴n̴d̷   ̷s̷o̵m̶e̷t̸h̸i̴n̴g̵ better.” His sleeve was still damp from the trees benevolent misting, which allowed him to scrub off the dirt and… red. The boy stood with his feet planted, glossy eyes zeroed in on the direction the bird sailed off to.

“Nh… s’food.”

He had to hold the boy still, he was trying to shrug away. “No-no, child. That w̷a̴s̶ ̶ n̵o̵t̷… it was no good.” Though he did recall the times he-himself had to slain animals, the child did not need to do that anymore. The city had plenty of food, the stores and kitchens were always stocked. “We will find s̶o̷m̸e̸t̶h̸i̶n̵g̵ better. Something you like.” Undeterred, the boy was trying to detach from his grip. He tried giving the scruffy head a consoling pat, but the boy was not having it.

“S’food. T’mine. Wuz’frrr. Mine.” And direct himself, however futile, to the birds final resting place. Like a broken record. “Mine. T’s rr'mine. Long. B’t take. Did t’s. Mine. Food.”

Giving up on the remnants of the smudging and feathers, the Thin Man sighed and put his hands around the child. The singular focus would not be broken. Not for some time. “That will be e̵n̶o̴u̵g̴h̵. We are not starting a̸n̵o̷t̴h̷e̴r̶ ̴ d̴r̶a̵m̷a̵.̷ No is f̸i̷n̵a̸l̵.̴” This admission had no effect, and the boy fought and bit, even when lifted and pressed firmly against the Thin Man's suit. “Settle down, you will h̵u̸r̵t̴ ̵ y̶o̸u̷r̷s̵e̶l̴f̶.̴ Let us not do that.” He supplied gentle pressure to the rigid back, trying to restrain the clawing arms. Eventually, the boy would tire out. The Thin Man feared that would be too soon, given the state he had witnessedd. "Shh.... Hush your head."

Muffled, the boy muttered all the same, “N’food. Hard n’caught.”

“I a̷m̷ ̶c̴e̵r̶t̴a̴i̶n̸ it was.” The Thin Man stood to his full height and wove his way from the room, leaving behind all its horrible memories. Though not as terrible as his time within the Tower, lost in the familiar misery that soaked into each iteration of the Broadcaster. On his gradual trek through the drab corridor, he reframed from sudden movements and glitching, in spite of how he yearned to escape these walls. He wanted to ask the boy what they might seek for him to eat, but the child had a one-track mind and he needed to shift that away from the topic.

Even after the home was long abandoned and those cluttered roads fading far behind his steps; the neighborhoods dissolving into the distance, and the rain renewing its endless descent; the sky becoming inky, and the familiar city roads sprawling around the tall man and his hat; the boy would not relent on his single-minded desperation for racing away to who knows where. He grumbled about his tricked bird, struck with staying muted but also snarling about the injustice. Exhausting. Despairing. But the Thin Man should have anticipated this.

An ugly thought weeded through his recollections, about when he was dragged into the realm of the Pit. The Flesh was waiting, as it always was waiting for the arrival of the child. Consistent and inevitable. He did not want to think about what it promised him, or was it prophesied? The loathsome mass snickered at him and let him go; always crooned from beneath the concrete floor, always jeering during his tantrums. The Flesh saw no reason to disrupt nor restrain him. It knew him better than he knew himself. Somehow knew everything. The Mono before him, and then his-self, always repeating the same doomed script.

This cycle was not unique or broken. As always and as has been. The Flesh implied this much.

Ā̶̯̻̲̏L̶̖̯̪͉͌́̂W̴̨̠̙͉̣̐̐͂̎̊A̸̢̻͚̔̒̽́͗Y̸̹͊͂̏͝S̸̬͊͛͠

̵̹̯͊̑̃͐

̶̟̞̹̙̱́̽͝Ī̶̢͙̟̓̈́̎N̷͉̣̪̲̬̉ ̷̭̪͇̖͑ͅD̴͉͖̊̾Ŭ̶͚͙͔̺̩̿Ẽ̵͚̋͘ ̶̗̤̳̯̖͑̐͝Ť̶̨̓͆͊Ï̷͖̼̹̗̝̿M̴̝̺̣̀̂̿̍̕Ë̴̗̱͐̓͘͘

̵͍͙̉͒̓̃̕

̷̜͊̑͝Y̵̥̯̼͙͗̓̌͠O̸̤̿̅́̅̈́U̴̼̙͗̔̈̕ ̵̡̝͔̦̂̾̕S̷̪̃̽H̷̢̻͎̑̉̉͝Ă̴̻̜̣̦̠L̴̻̣͇̍̓L̴̡͂͝ ̶̦͐̃̅̇

̵��̹̠͉̆

̵̻̙̜̓̔͝

̴̛̲͇̬͉̓̒C̷̘̦̔̔̐H̴̲͗̾͌͊Ḯ̸̱͔͇̏L̵̙̯̟̏͛D̴̝͈͕̹̀͆̆̓ͅ

̵̡̹̠̑̑́̑͌

̶͔͆̊̇̔̕Ọ̴̡͈͛̂̈́͐U̵̧̖̜͎̍́̂Ȑ̴̝̹̞͇͝ ̸̧̗̬̱̒̅͊̕͠C̵̡̫̍̈́̇̊͝H̵̯̯̬͌̏̊̏̕A̶̛̼̯͊̔̏M̸͖̥̟̫̌͛̓̊͘ͅP̵̢͋̓͂Ȋ̶̛̛͚̈͠Ǫ̸̬̳̍̊ͅN̸̡͇͉̓̾

̴̛̯̈́͋

̵̻̜͍͛̇̋̂̚B̸̙̾̏̚ͅR̵̡̨̘̖͌I̶̘̖̘͛̀N̵̛̟̺̅̾̂Ǵ̶͓̝̯̃ ̴͓͉͍̣̳̉͗͗Ḣ̸͚͒̾̐͠I̶͉͓͗̊Ḿ̷̛̛̬̃͝

̶͕͔̥̮̇̿̀

̶̦͌͒̕Y̶̧̖̌̏̏O̸̦͚̮̘͐̌̂U̶̖͐̎̇̕ ̶͇̮̻͚͇̏͋̔͝K̶͕̭̩͆̋N̵̠̬̱̎̀̌́O̸̱̗̥̻̓̕W̷̡͚͉͎͇̒̏͝

̷͈̞̝̘͕̎

̷̢̡̙͔̆̿̊̈́̚Ẉ̶̨̈́͑̈́A̵̢̘̺͆ͅŸ̶̘̪͕̝͓́͂͌̚̚

̷̨́̒̍͗̂

̴̞͓͗͌͠A̸̧͉̓͗N̵̟͕̪̊D̶͔̎ ̸̻̰̩̟̒́T̵̛͈̪̖̤̙̈́Ĥ̸̡̨̘̩͛̑͌E̸̟͂̇N̸̫̈̿̃

̷̡̯͈̲̀͝

̷̹̥͍͐̌̎͑͆͜Y̵̪͔̑̾̒͝O̸̤̒Ủ̶͚͇̤̜̬͐̿̂ ̴̙̤̪̫̈́̒͛̈́Ã̷͔͉̤̋̊R̵̡̖͕͔͎̄E̵̞̭͚͔͛ ̴̛̝̱̊͗̈́͝F̷̤̫̘̅̂̒R̴̝͉̄̿̓̂͜͠E̵̫̠̐̈́̌̑̕Ĕ̸̡̩̻̰̀̍̽͠

̴̢̡̬̋̀̆͗̕

̷̯͚̙̹̾B̷̯͔͔͙̽̽̕̕Ȑ̶̻̃͠O̵̡͓͕̪̾A̸̖͔̪̐̾̎͒͗D̴̢̢͌Ċ̵̫̘̭̇̏Ä̷̤́S̸̰̯̟̮̻͛̍͘͘Ť̷̡͓̟̀̂E̴̲̟̻͎̓͂̋͠R̴͎̥̗͎̐̚̕͝

̶̕͜D̵̙͕̅̾͑ͅỌ̸̀̀ ̵̻͎̎͜Ǎ̵͖͈̝̈́͒S̴̪̮̗͑̒̌

̴̖̩̝̼̍͜

̷͖̜͍͇͎͋̈́̊͠Y̴̡̦̥̪̥͋Ǫ̷̳͙̍U̶̡̥̬̒̑͐̾̕ ̷̱̦͌̏W̵͇̼̫̋̑͊͝Ị̶̭̲̒͜S̴͍̈̏H̴̬̟̄͊

Somewhere during his musing, the firm pressing on the boy's back at last weeded out the dwindling bit of fight from the wiry frame. A brief but all too familiar little tensing nullified the fragments of rowdiness, when the Thin Man clutched the child tighter to his chest. Only to ward off the lashing bullets breaking across his shoulders. He brushed some of the feathers from the most important coat, but they stuck like glue to his fingers. “It is alright, c̵h̸i̵l̵d̶,” he rumbled. Swollen droplets hammered against his hat bill, the storm was picking up and promised no mercy to stragglers. “S̴a̶v̶e̸ ̵ your s̷t̶r̷e̸n̴g̶t̸h̶. I will have you t̶a̸k̸e̸n̴ ̵c̷a̷r̶e̶ of  ̴s̴o̸o̵n̵.̸”

That miniscule reassurance seemed to be all that was needed. The child gave a sigh and ceased the fighting, satisfied now to tuck his arms up under his chin and stay complacent. Vibrations still worked through the little body, like miniature earthquakes. The Thin Man checked if he was okay, but the child only gazed off and far away, across the roads watching nothing in particular. He would get over it. Once they located a suitable shelter with a kitchen filled with packaging and whatever else, the boy would forget all about the grotesque thing he had done. Until then, the Thin Man would reassure that the boy was found.

Next

[darbuckle21]

Daryl X Reader

“Daryl?” I question looking at him. His crossbow that was once drawn lowers as he says “are you okay?”. “Yeah I’m fine fell running from the prison hurt my knee pretty bad” I put away my knife walking to him hugging him. “I’m glad your okay Daryl” I whisper against his chest. He doesn’t reply or return the hug. “Where’s Judith?” I pull away looking at my feet guilty. “She was with Beth” he let’s put a breath clearly worried for the newborn he adores so much. “And Carl?” He asks looking at tree line to his right. I shake my head, I hadn’t seen Carl once in the shoot out. I have no idea where he is or who he’s with. “It’s getting dark” he looks at the sky when he murmurs it. I look around for any sort of shelter. All I see is a worn out car always down the road. He must have seen it aswell cause he lets out a low whistle nodding his head towards the car. By the time we make it down there the dimmed sky was almost black . I hop in the drivers seat while Daryl covers me. I look around for keys as the sound of walkers gets closer. “Fuck” I whisper as quiet as humanly possible. I hop out the drivers seat as Daryl opens the trunk letting me in first and hoping in behind me. The trunk clinks shut and all I can do is grip my knife closer to me. There’s so many of them, must be a huge herd. They have gotten pretty bad lately. I watch as Daryl ties something around a the spokes in the trunk securing it. From the cracks in the trunk I can see walkers. Hours, we must have been here hours. It started raining not long ago. The thunder only adds to my fear. Between the thunder claps and the walkers shaking and moving the car as they pass. The whole time I was crying and praying in my head Daryl was prepared. His crossbow aimed at the entrance of the trunk. He was ready, I don’t know why he thought that one crossbow and a knife would protect us from this heard of walkers but he was ready anyways. He’s always one step ahead always preparing for the worse mentally and physically. I guess that’s why he’s lived so long, me on the other hand I’ve only survived on nothing but luck. The herd is quieter now almost completely silent. They must be miles away now, but I can’t help my anxiety.  We stayed like that till morning. Even when the birds chirped happily and the threat was gone his crossbow stayed raised, and I stayed scared. Eventually I mustered enough courage to scoot down and untie it lifting the trunk. I weekly make my way out Daryl not far behind. We don’t speek as we continue our journey. We set up camp in the woods and ate the snake Daryl killed. I take a sip of the water we have left, only a sip. “That’s it I can’t take this silence anymore, What did I do? Why won’t you talk to me?” He shakes his head responding “didn’t do anything” he didn’t even bother to look at me. “If I didn’t do anything then why won’t you talk?” He huffs “Judith,Carl,everyone, they’re dead, no more people I love can die cause yer it, got no one else” he looks away after he says it. “We don’t know that, we don’t know if they are dead” I argue but he’s done talking. “Daryl I’m not gonna die, your stuck with me till the end of times, and you don’t get to pick when you do or don’t care about me, I’m done with you being all at then cold, your either with me or your not” I finish. He finally looks at me “who said I didn’t wanna be with ya?” I let out a annoyed huff. “You did, one night we would be snuggled together then the next day you make up excuses to avoid me, or you get snappy when all I wanted was to know where you put something” his eyebrows furrow before he looks down guilty. “I, look I was stressed out with people dying left and right and just everyone being all sunshine and rainbows like there ain’t walkers everywhere” he looks back at me “sorry, didn’t realize I was doing it” he finishes opening his arms nudging his head in a come here motion. I scoot my way next to him and he wraps his arms around me kissing my temple. “They can’t be dead, they are strong Daryl plus they have Rick they are holed up somewhere.

[textbeak]

TEXTBEAK - DJ SET FROM TST DETROIT PRESENTS BESTIAL MOUTHS VAZUM VITRIOL GAUGE 12282022 https://www.mixcloud.com/Textbeak/textbeak-dj-set-from-tst-detroit-presents-bestial-mouths-vazum-vitriol-gauge-12282022/ https://soundcloud.com/user-629254967/textbeak-dj-set-from-tst-detroit-presents-bestial-mouths-vazum-vitriol-gauge-12282022 Loop - Blood Brighter Death Now - Tempting Murder Perc - Speek Material & William S. Burroughs - Soul Killer (Remote Control Mix by Terre Thaemlitz) Burial - Exokind Caroline K - Animallattice Dome - Cruel When Complete Angelo Badalamenti - The Black Dog Runs At Night Tones on Tail - You, the Night, and the Music Jozef Van Wissem - The Taste of Blood Fostercare - Half Gone Eurythmics - Ministry Of Love He Said - I Fall into Your Arms Single Gun Theory - Open The Skies (Remix) Seven Trees - Desire slowly bursting Public Image Ltd - The Order Of Death Angelo Badalamenti - The Pink Room Mephisto Walz - Mephisto Waltz White Ring - I Need A Way Aurat - ¿Can You Hear Me? (MVTANT Remix) Vandal - Kiss Me Goodbye Harlem - Bait Hardlab - Time Has Come Julian Winding - Summassault Identified Patient - Het Infuus My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult - And This Is What the Devil Does Visage - Fade To Grey Normal Bias - Embody Control Disco Morato - 2020 David J Bull - Body Gum S Y Z Y G Y X - Hold Tight Liaisons Dangereuses - Los Ninos del Parque Chino - Tigerman Static Starlight - Got Souls feat. Lokkpick (Randolph & Mortimer Remix) Pablo Bozzi - Diffused Junction Linea Aspera - Synapse LYCIA - A Failure S.M. Nurse - Frutta ТУЧА - Не кажи Kill Memory Crash - American Automatic Unhuman - Seuche ft. Petra Flurr Joel Eel - Performing a Crime Cabaret Voltaire - Don't Argue (Randolph & Mortimer Tweak) Sextile - Contortion Puerta Negra - Quemar Bandera Boy Harsher - Yr Body Is Nothing Ulterior - The Locus of Control (Godmode Remix) Twin Tribes - Fantasmas Selofan - Give Me A Reason The March Violets - Snake Dance Jorge Elbrecht & Geneva Jacuzzi - Perish Magas - Dead Quasars ADULT. - Paranoid Vision Plack Blague - Boyz Club Spike Hellis - Flight Qual - My Body is a Temple Plus more… (at Detroit, Michigan) https://www.instagram.com/p/CndxyJqubHH/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=