#dream job is horror scholar
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my final paper for gender studies is about white feminism in buffy which is so interesting to me and i've been reading so many academic articles about it and been watching so much buffy lately that it's just a hyperfixation at this point. except gender studies is my best class and i should really worry about all my other finals lmao
#went down a rabbit hole of horror theory the other night and just OUGHH#dream job is horror scholar#i don't want to teach people tho. i just want to read and write articles#but also academia is so elitist and inaccessible and even tho i love it i also hate it sometimes#and also i want a job that actually helps people and contributes things to the world#so i'd like to find a job where i can also help people and do things in the real world#either do both at the same time or two jobs#i've also been thinking of being a media critic for a while like in regular journalism which feels more accessible to the 'real world' to#me and like every time i think abouut that being not useful enough i think about how there is always going to be art and always people to#facilitate conversations about art and devoting time to art and media and entertainment is a way of preserving those things in a society#devoted to production and consumption#and ideally i'd also do an intersectional critique of everything and combine my critical theory major and english major to analyze#everything in relation to our culture#because i'm so incredibly interested in how pop culture reflects our time but also specifically with horror since that is my special intere#st#but anyway. buffy hyperfixation :3
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15 QUESTIONS FOR FRIENDS
I was tagged by @rivnedell, thank you so much !! ✨(I'm sorry it took so long darling, I am terrible at keeping track of my Mentions.)
~
Are you named after someone? Nah. My mother just liked the names.
When was the last time you cried? Girl, I am pregnant right now, so... two minutes ago? I don't even remember.
do you have kids? Yep, two. The third one is on the way.
What sports do you play/have played? Volleyball through middle school and high school. I am also an excellent swimmer, if I say so myself.
Do you use sarcasm? May I just say how happy I am to be answering this incredibly interesting and insightful question? I mean, the depth of this question is just wow. (... yes, the answer is yes.)
What the first thing you notice about people? Their height. I know it's shallow as hell, but when I was in my high school's volleyball team, I was the shortest (even though I'm above average for a woman) so it gave me a complex I guess? Idk.
What's your eye colour? Hazel.
Scary movies or happy endings? Scary movies.
Any talents? I have a passable talent when it comes to sketching.
Where were you born? The Big Smoke.
What are your hobbies? Watching horror films, reading, making gifs, cooking.
Do you have any pet? Nope.
How tall are you? 172cm
Favourite subject in school? History
Dream job? Tolkien scholar.
Tagging @tastethesetears, @eomer, @villainthirst, @cosmic-lullaby, @persephoneed, @lotrlorien, @wincestation, @frodo-baggins, @anotherbluesunday, @lordoftheelves, @kvtnisseverdeen, @therulerofallpotatos & anyone else who wants to do this ✨
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WIP intro time!
Are you so certain of the difference, Mr. Lake? Between dark and the light? The Black and the Bright? You’d best learn fast, for those who gaze too long into the Black may soon find themselves unable to stomach the Bright.
GENRE: Eldritch Noir (detective novel with a touch of cosmic horror!)
AUDIENCE: Adults, I guess? Solid R rating, probably, but it won’t get too bad I don’t think
STATUS: Drafting!
COMPARISONS AND INSPIRATIONS: Alan Wake-esque blurring of reality with all the noir drama of things like The 39 Steps, Marlowe, The Maltese Falcon, etc.
THEMES: The nature of humanity and its place in the universe, humanity vs inhumanity, hope and love in the gaze of the abyss
AESTHETIC: Rain pounding a foggy window, mist and fog obscuring a streetlamp, the clack of shoes in an empty alley, a cigarette being lit in the dark, the buzz of the harsh lights of a diner, thick black smoke swallowing the world around it, the clatter of a metro train overhead, an empty flask, coffee-stained papers haphazardly strewn on a desk
PLAYLIST (in progress!): dark, moody, atmospheric, melancholic, a LOT of jazz.
SYNOPSIS:
Three years after the worst day of his life, Adam Lake is doing better. After all, he’s got a paying (if unstable) job as a private investigator for his best friend, Defense Attorney Cole Parker. Hell, he’s even managed to drink away the memory of Elise Conway, the girl that shattered his heart along with his dreams of becoming an archaeologist. Things are calm. Things are… good.
Enter Evelyn Montclaire, ex-actress and model, current movie producer, and dangerously charming client. Something’s off on her new set, and she wants Adam to find a book that’s gone missing from her office. He’s inclined to say no, but it turns out Cole talked to a young assistant on that very production who’s being accused of murder! Can Adam navigate silver screen politics and the wicked world of the fabulously wealthy? If he wants any chance at making rent, he’ll have to.
CHARACTERS:
Adam Lake: The detective. Ex-archaeology student and police department washout (insubordination, of course), Adam was picked up by Cole Parker as a private investigator for his new solo law venture. Hates corruption, hates rich people. Simple as.
Cole Parker: The lawyer. Cole is a defense attorney whose father was imprisoned and executed for a crime he didn’t commit. Shares and respects Adam’s contempt for the corrupt police force of Strand City. Loves jazz music and poetry.
Elise Conway: The scholar. An ex-classmate and ex-lover of Adam, Elise has been called upon by Evelyn Montclaire to help her study and decipher a strange book that has come into her possession. Jumped at the chance. Loves history, language, and men with their shit together.
Judy Love: The starlet. Found dead in her dressing room at Panessa Studios under incredibly mysterious circumstances. Filming for her new movie, Concrete Midnights, has been halted.
Evelyn Montclaire: The producer. A lot of history in the movies, currently trying to revive Strand City’s dying film industry. Cold, calculating, and deadly charming.
Annie Hartwell: The assistant. Accused of jealous murder, Annie is desperately seeking the help of Cole. She seems like a scared newcomer to the city, but is it just an act?
Cliff Calloway: The co-star. An older man doing his last movie as a favor to Evelyn. Used to be a huge name in the movies, has been aging out of the leading roles that won him his fame.
Ethan Bennett: Adam’s old partner on the force. Cares a lot about Adam, but firmly believes he can change the system from the inside. Still, has been known to slip Adam classified info as a favor, though it takes some convincing.
Disclaimer!!!!!
If you’ve read this far, you’re probably wondering about the setting of this book. Concrete Midnights takes place in a fictionalized city in the American Pacific Northwest during the 1930s. I feel like I should take the opportunity to mention this book takes place in an alternative history, and will do its absolute best to steer away from the topics of racism and sexism! Nobody wants to deal with that stuff, least of all me, a white man! That’s gross!
As always, thanks for reading, and I’ll see you around!
#callahanscorner#concrete midnights#my wip#wip intro#my writing#writeblr#writblr#creative writing#crime novel#crime noir#eldritch horror
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I got tagged by my good friend @goodluckclove for an OC interaction game! Below, I'm going to describe a day spent between Magnus Experah and Scott Skylark Kaufner at the Bay Harbor Institute for Magical Sciences. Scott is from their series Songbird Elegies! I'm gonna tag @korblez, @daisywalletchains, and anyone else who wants to play!
Read below for more ^u^
Scott Skylark Kaufner is a 31 year old human birthright from the Bluerose Refuge Hub, a witch town on the coast of Oregon. He is intersex, born with Kleinfelters Syndrome, and chose to undergo a masculine puberty and identify as a man. Scott is Greek-Romanian and I think German on his dad's side? I haven't established that yet. But he's a shorty at 5"5, with long and wild black hair and large, dark blue eyes. He identifies as a man, but prefers to dress in loose dresses in fun colors and soft materials. No shoes.
Scott is a bipolar variant birthright, which means he once had the ability to reflect his emotions onto those around him. But after travelling for years to find Eddie, he used his powers so often to get through social situations that they were infected, forcing him to inadvertently control the intentions of anyone that made eye contact or extended physical contact with him. Usually this ended with the person wanting to sleep with him. As a sex-repulsed asexual, this resulted in a rough few years for Scott. The fact that he was unable to see human faces due to the torture of the Eldritch horror trying to possess him did not help.
At his best Scott is friendly and talkative, though he tired quickly socially - as much as he tries to hide that fact. He loves the ones closest to him deeply and passionately and he has a tendency to get weird and overdramatic about it. There is an undercurrent of some manic intensity to him that most choose not to bring up and he doesn't seem to notice.
He's an obsessive piano player since infancy that can't read music but can learn anything by ear if you give him time. He also has perfect pitch but pointing that out embarrasses him. Scott loves the library and thinks that librarians, service workers, and anyone in the medical field are the most important members of society. Especially librarians. He loves reading books of Greek mythology but has a different relationship to them since his upbringing in magic causes him to think most mythological/supernatural things could maybe be true. He also loves a good snack and he's not great with technology but he's really good with Excel. Magnus Experah is an agender Petraedict, a species that resembles a cross between a monkey and a cat. They have large, mossy green eyes, mostly taken up by iris, with a rounded pupil in the center, with a light complexion. White markings wind up and down their skin, covered with a thin, near invisible, layer of soft fluff. They stand at an average height of 5 feet 7 inches, with a tail two feet long ending in a fluffy mass of fur the same color as their copper hair. They wear a set of smart, small spectacles that sit on the bridge of their flat, feline nose, covering the small spattering of white freckles that dot their cheeks. Magnus is a stern scholar, often stoic even amongst their closest friends. They prefer to be called by their student title of Honorable, the Bay Harbor equivalent of a Doctorate student. They struggle with tone and inflection, often coming across far more flat than they intend to be, and they find it difficult to discern tone in voice as well. They prefer to dress sharply, in suits of autumnal colors, and try to appear professional, as if they've already been approved for their dream job at the Magus Council. When they aren't studying, Magnus enjoys walking along the coastline, watching the ships sift through the ever present fog along the sea. They're partial to reading, as well, spending much of their time in the Institute's library, or in their study at home. They're fond of music, as well, though they prefer instruments to singing, and they like their music played softly. Magnus has a condition known as PNES, or psychogenic non-epileptic seizures, and as such is usually accompanied by at least one of their friends in the event of a seizure. Unfortunately, part of the process of seizing means they end up dumping all of their radioactive magic into their surroundings, warping and twisting them into something horrific. As such, they take great pains to avoid situations where there might be an abundance of noise, crowds, or yelling. They also tend to avoid conflict. They are quiet, a bit high strung, and prefer to be a wallflower.
That was a lot of fun c: Thanks for the tag!!
#writers on tumblr#authors of tumblr#creative writing#oc#original character#fault lines#queer writer#queer author#songbird elegies#blind trust#magnus experah#scott skylark kaufner
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Tagged by @juststartingtobebrothersagain 💜
Ask game bellow the cut ✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧
1. Are you named after anyone?
Nope. But my nickname, Ashi, is taken from a nursery song if it counts
2. When was the last time you cried?
Actually half an hour ago. I was rereading some part of Franny and Zooey for thousandths time and it always gets me
3. Do you have kids?
No and i never will
4. What sports do you play/have played?
5. Do you use sarcasm?
I have always been pathetic when it comes to sport. However i am both a good runner and swimmer but i only do those recreationally. I can't handle stress of racing. I've tried basketball and volleyball and i have been incredibly tragic like a wet miserable cat.
I try not to because it really creates communication issues especially with added language barriers. With some friends tho, we have shared sarcasm i believe so it works
6. What's the first thing you notice about people?
Hmmmmm... Their gaze. And whether they notice me or not.
7. What's your eye color?
Dark brown
8. Scary movies or happy endings?
Neither exactly? I don't vibe hard with jumpscare horror but i do love bad devastating endings, not in tragic movies but ones that are meant to invoke discomfort.
9. Any talents?
I think i'm a good speaker in person. I have been the constant project presenter since 10th grade till end of my masters. I also think, or hope, tha i have quite an imaginative mind. Also whenever i'm making one of those huge 1000 puzzles i usually can grab one single piece and figure out where it belongs. I used to get mocked for this bc but hey if i take pride in that 😤
10. Where were you born?
Somewhere in middle east.
11. What are your hobbies?
Drawing, writing, hoarding academic papers (especially regarding religion and mythology recently), digging through all sorts of true crimes, unsolved cases, internet mysteries, fucked up cults. Puzzles and riddles, i also used to be so invested in Notpron (an insane & amazing internet puzzle) & i went to level 50 something & am planning to get back too. Also just grabbing internet courses related ro physics, geometry, astronomy for fun, i used to be a theatre kid but it's been some years since ive been a part of.
12. Do you have any pets?
No unfortunately :(
13. How tall are you?
148 cm/4'10 :D
14. Favorite subject in school?
In school it was geometry, biology, art, literature, and english. In my undergrad i took an anthropology course unrelated to my own degree which was the best experience and in my masters my favorite subject waw something i can roughly translate to architecture analysis.
15. Dream job?
I am somewhat having my dream job right now in a game design project with coolest people, but on the other hand i know big industries are literal hellscape when it comes to game and animation so i dont know really. I do wish to later in life go for phd, at one point i was fearing i'd be permanently a student djeujsisi but i think being a researcher/scholar of some sort is kinda awesome.
No pressure here @lilacpaperbird, @nameslikeguns, @stray-with-a-muffler , @hurricanejane, @fathercain1999, @laurasashtray, @sexwithag, and anyone who wants to do this im quite shy with tags
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Alaric Olavson had given up on trying to raise his daughter to be the ideal Eyivish woman many, many years ago. It was apparent from a very young age that Thalia didn't exactly fit the mould of a respectable noble woman in the land, nor did she wish to be either. Do not be mistaken, this was a place far unlike the human world; Eyiven was a world in which women prospered! They were rulers, politicians, academics and scholars. They made discoveries and changed lives, stood strong in every area of society, yes, but even this had their limitations. The world of combat, grizzling and dirty as it was, was no place for a woman. The life of a knight, laborious work in many ways, was not for a lady.
And yet, it was all Thalia had ever dreamed of.
She was Grand Kelune's first and only female knight, a position she had recently gained after years of dedication and hard work. Her father, Alaric, was a local politician and nobleman, her oldest brother Kenric was also a knight, and it was he who had secretly trained his little sister when their father wasn't around. They were a well-connected and well-liked family, but it couldn't go without saying; people in their land viewed Thalia with such amusement. She had spent most of her life hearing whispers in the background, people pointing when they thought she wasn't looking. She was loud, outspoken, and cared little for societal structures, and in the eyes of the ordinary citizen, that made her a bit of a freak.
It was... tough, at times. Thalia put on a strong face, but often felt ever so frustrated; She watched the way that her male colleagues were no where near as good as she was at the job, but simply because she was a woman, she was overlooked, mocked, grieved. She hated it, she hated how she had to fight ten times harder for everything in the role than they did, but it also made her determined. Determined to prove them wrong and prove to her father that his agreement to letting her take this job was the right thing.
Her determination hadn't gone unnoticed. The region's Duchess had caught wind of a female knight in her land, the daughter of a politician she'd conversed with many times, and it seemed the Duchy were willing to embrace the unorthodox girl when so many weren't. Perhaps, it was simply out of intrigue. Even so, the noble family had approached Alaric, discussed an idea or two, and the man could hardly decline such an offer. She wanted his child to be the personal guard to her youngest daughter, Galadriel. This would mean great things for his family. How could he refuse such a thing?
He'd just been rather shocked when she had suggested that Thalia take on the role.
Thalia? You wish for Thalia to supervise her ladyship? That had been his response. Pure shock greeted with a nod and a smile. But out of respect, he couldn't question the duchess any further. All Alaric could do was gratefully accept the offer, and invite the family to their home for a feast one evening in thanks. And simply pray to the moon herself that Thalia would be on her best behaviour.
As the warm months were beginning to draw to a close, this evening involved Alaric racing around his home in a disorientated panic. He yelled at servants and pointed fingers at maids, demanding that his home be nothing but perfection before the arrival of the Duchess, her husband and her daughter. The feast was grand, a beautiful array of the land's finest food and cutlery, sparkling silverware and glowing candlesticks laid as the backdrop was accompanied by a roaring fireplace.
"... And what of Thalia?" He suddenly cried, skidding to a halt, looking at one of the maids who stared back in frightened horror. "Where on the moon's great earth is Thalia?!" His voice boomed and echoed through the halls.
Thalia didn't hear him. She was outside in the beautiful gardens with her other brother, Cassian, a wide grin on her face, in her own little world. She wore this awfully constricting dress her father had forced her to put on, but had managed to roll up the sleeves, ignoring the way the grass flicked specks of dirt on the frail at the bottom.
"You spend you days behind a telescope or with your nose pressed inside a book..." She teased to Cassian, giving him a look of mischief ridden on her face, "... and yet you believe yourself to be the superior being in a duel?" She let out one loud laugh, like a bark, almost. Cassian folded his arms over, nodding, "Of course. I am older, taller and faster than you. I would champion over you any day."
"False accusations will get you no where, brother." She countered quickly.
"Accusations?"
Thalia smirked, continuing to egg him on in hopes of getting him no where. "Mhm, accusations. You're ever so intricate with your words, Cassian, but nothing of substance ever follows. Haven't you noticed? Unless... you believe me wrong?”
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Koko has started a new journey because the person leveling her (me) hates caster classes, I dont know what I was thinking other than I wanted her to be able to blow things up in firey awesomeness. Shes so happy to be a Lancer now, they even put a pink flower over the door for her (and no she is not going to care if you tell her it’s for the holiday, she IS the holiday damnit).
Also I had to write a little something to show how she decided to do this. Salix was borrowed from @cinlat and it’s also super important that @tishinada hear about the hijinks Koko got up to while Zas wasn’t around.
Pointy Ideas. Word Count: 983
Koko groaned and slumped in her chair, staring up at the ceiling. When she dreamed about being an adventurer as a child she thought about weidling powerful magic spells and kicking bad guy asses. What she did NOT dream about was spending all her free time reading book after book to learn said magic. Thinking of all the books lining the walls of the Thaumaturge Guild Hall made her shudder in horror.
Books had never been Koko’s friend. She got distracted easily, lost her spot on the page unless she followed her fingers and sometimes the letters seemed to be all jumbled around. She’d managed to eke her way through the basic schooling her small village had provided, but little of that focused on letters and reading. She had a drive and motivation to do the work but all the reading was making her head spin, and not in a fun way like her favorite mead did.
Sitting up and pushing the book she had been trying to read away, Koko found her eyes drawn to the lance leaning against the corner of the room. Salix had once been a Lancer but the boy wasn’t cut for it, by his own admission, and now preferred the healing Scholar arts. Seeing him switch jobs, and being so much happier for it, made her wonder…
Could she do that too?
This wasn’t a new feeling. At first she had been so excited to learn the Thaumaturge arts, she could create fireballs! With her hands! It was amazing. Everything she had ever wanted. But now it all felt so complicated and overwhelming.
Studying as a Thaumaturge had made her hesitant to pick up any other spellcasting jobs and the healing arts didn’t interest her either. But that lance gave her ideas. Pointy ideas. The longer she stared at the lance and thought about it the bigger her grin grew.
Unable to restrain herself any longer she asked across the room and grabbed the lance. It was sized for Salix who obviously was much taller than her. It was heavy, especially at the top where the blade was and she staggered a few steps backward before finding her balance.
Koko turned the lance a few times, spinning the wood in her fingers. It would take some practice to get used to its side but Koko was sure she could manage. Remembering how she had seen Salix use the lance she decided there was no better time than now to start her new career.
-------- Several minutes later --------
The jarring sound of break glass made Salix look up from the papers on the Adloquium spell he had been studying. He wanted to get the healing spell committed to memory as soon as possible. Life in Eorzea was getting more and more dangerous everyday and he wanted to know he could protect his family.
More glass broke in the main room and he shot to his feet. Koko had been pouring over what she called her “Fire Makin’” books when he had come upstairs to do his own studying. He had learned when he first started pursuing the Scholar arts that they could not study together. Koko was easily distracted and, in turn, would find wants to distract him and soon neither had learned anything.
But even for Koko breaking things while trying to study was unusual.
He was at the door in seconds but hesitated before opening it. He had learned the hard way that rushing into a room tended to surprise the small woman and had no desire to dodge fireballs today. Slowly he opened the door, peering through the crack as the main room became visible.
Koko had a talent for surprising people, she seemed to take great joy in jumping out of small spaces or high up hidey holes to shock people. Salix knew this, had come to expect it, but nothing had prepared him to see her clumsily swinging his lance about. It was almost two feet longer than him, the length customized to match his stature, and for a person who was just about three feet tall it was an almost comical sight.
Almost because the glass and broken ceramic pieces on the floor were increasing with every swing.
“Koko what are you doing?”
Koko stopped mid-swing and grinned widely at him. “Magic sucks. I’m gonna stab things!”
Figuring that was all the explanation he was going to get with how excited she was he didn’t question her sudden change in career paths but motioned to the floor. “Maybe you should stab things outside where things are less breakable?”
She tilted her head to the side for a moment and then looked down. Surprise showed plainly on her face. “Did I do that?”
Hoping it was safe to move closer now, Salix stepped into the room. “I think so.”
“Oops,” Koko said, looking at him, then the mess, then longingly at the lance in her hand. “I guess I need to clean it before I can take this outside.”
Salix crouched down and smiled at her. He hadn’t been sure he’d like the energetic Lalafell when they met, she was so chaotic, but she certainly kept life from being boring. “How about I help you clean it up and then show you some of what I learned when that was my lance.”
Koko’s eyes went wide and he barely had any time to prepare himself before she dropped the lance and launched herself at him, knocking him down into the mess on the floor in her haste to hug him.
“Thank you thank you thank you!” Koko cried as she squeezed him as tightly as she could.
Salix grimaced, not from the hug because Koko had made sure he was getting used to those, but the feel of glass poking into his backside. He was going to need those healing spells much sooner than he had anticipated.
#Ffxiv#OC: Kokogu Kogu#Little Chaos Monster#Salix#Friend's OC#My Writing#I need to write this little chaos monster more#Shes a fun one#i dont write enough unhinged characters#Also omg#I wrote something!#Like a the while scene I wanted#I havent managed that in AGES
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⸻ ARCHIE RENAUX. HE/HIM / have you ever heard of peach (lobotomy) by waterparks, well, it describes LIAM KUMAR to a tee! the twenty five year old, teacher was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say he is more shy or more genuine instead? anyway, they remind me of pencils, coffee cups, scrapbooking, summer rain and beaches, maybe you’ll bump into them soon!
background.
a weak moment in his youth, which happens to everyone almost at one point in their life, liam found himself unable to focus on the studies he should focus on, ending up dropping out of university to his parents' horror. they wanted nothing other for their only son (the little brother with four older sisters) than to get a scholar career like the rest of the family. liam though, wanting the adventure of something else, ended up trying his way with modeling, a few acting job, until he realised that truly this wasn't for him. at 21, he returned to school and fixed his grades, went through university with no problems at all and has just now, shy of a year, worked as an english teacher. one reason that he also wanted to turn his life around from a life that seemed to revolve around alcohol and drugs, was him meeting a woman that ended up pregnant with his child. they parted ways, and liam now raises his daughter of 3 years on his own most of the time.
looks && health.
eyes:: brown. tattoos:: none. piercings:: none. body type:: 185cm, slender.. drugs and drinking:: sober. mental health:: none. sexuality:: bisexual.
career && dreams.
liam dreams of releasing his own book series, fantasy styled for teens and up audiences that he's working on in secret. he loves his job as a teacher and wants to keep doing it as long as he can, but writing is also now something he loves. one day, if he thinks he can handle it without getting dragged into the bad company he had back then, he'd love to go back to try and do some modeling, mostly because fashion is after all a big love of his.
the now.
liam works, takes care of his daughter, and tries to make sure to have a good of a life as he can. he puts his daughters needs above everything else, and he is very picky on who he leaves her with resulting in him not having much time for himself to go out, but with friends he try to hang out as often as he can when not at work.
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Tales of Dracarrio: Act 2: The Dragon Star Paradox
My other campaign has been taking a while for all the players to come up with free time to play. So I started a second campaign within the same universe as the first. Only this takes place a few hundred years in the past. Enjoy.
Tonight I introduce you to a tale of daring heroism, betrayal, cosmic horrors, and destined friendship from across the realms. It is here where our story begins. It's the 89th year of the 3rd era for Dricarro. Scholars and seers alike have foreseen strange omens, and the air is thick with anticipation. A new chapter in Dricarros history is about to unfold. Floating deep in the outreaches of space, far beyond where the Gods themselves can reach. Like a tear in time and space this ship cuts through the void carrying more than just our protagonists.
Two unlikely individuals share a cell with one another. A gnome thief, and a Thri Kreen warrior. Both chained on opposing walls, forced to look at each other. The Gnome Thief known to the guardsmen as Julio. Born with a talent for stealth and a dream to become the wealthiest gnome in the solar system, some say his ambitions were too big for his little body. Now that he’s flown too close to the sun, one wrong job ended his whole career. Just like many who try to steal from the federation, he now faces the end of his life. Doomed to a life of slavery, never to see the glint from a single coin again. But still, to be in this situation as a low tier criminal is quite the ego boost. Julio may not know exactly what he was going to steal, but it sure did piss a lot of people off. To be one of the two prisoners aboard a massive Federation Ship has to be some sort of honor among thieves. But even while coming to terms with his fate, his will remains ever strong and unbroken. Much like his unlikely companion, the Thri Kreen Samurai sitting just a few feet from him.
Some call him an abomination. Even now as he sits chained and disarmed, there is an aura of caution and hesitation when guards come in to check on them. But only he knows himself as The Wanderer. This Thri Kreen warrior goes by no name because just like the reasons for his arrest, the details are a mystery. Who he is, where he’s from? All questions he unfortunately won’t get the answers to because if it's one thing he knows, it's that his kind aren’t really seen kept alive aboard ships flying these colors. The federation didn’t need a reason to imprison this Samurai. With tensions rising on the planet Ibreon and wounds still fresh from the years of bad blood between this bug man's race and the people of the solar system, it's not uncommon to see innocent Thri Kreen be falsely imprisoned. Wrong time and place they’d say. But even now as the Wanderer stares down his cellmate, he can sense no fear, no prejudice. Maybe this could be his key to seeing the stars once again.
Even now as the prisoners get their hourly visit from the guards they have a sense of dread and horror. Everyone on board this ship seems to be scared of something. Julio thought it was strange for them being the only two prisoners on board this massive ship. Something else was aboard this ship with them. Something powerful. Julio remembered that they seemed to be in quite the rush to get him and his cellmate on board this ship as fast as possible. Why were they being transported to Dricarro? What did he try to steal and why is it so important that caused him to be in this situation? As the two pondered, unsure of what fate had in store for them both, a strange light began to form in their cell.
Meanwhile, in Kansas City, you’ll find the Robinson household. A hard working Father, a loving mother, and Kyle. Kyle Robinson is a young man who can’t seem to fit in anywhere. One day he began to dive deep into weird alt-right message boards on 4chan and found a love for Greek Mythology. He specifically took a liking to the ancient God Zeus. With no job, no friends and dropping out of school when he turned 17, Kyle was a horrible disappointment to his father. Kyle would spend any money he’d get from birthdays and allowances from his mother on various greek inspired trinkets and even buying a set of chainmail armor off of Etsy.com. He would never take off and would wear it out in public every day. One day as he scrolled through forums his mother called for him to come down stairs. Hearing his mother's call and the distinct smell of pizza rolls fresh out of the oven, Kyle leaped from his Staples brand gamer chair and rushed to open the door. As he opened the door with excitement, all he could see was darkness. An endless void. Unable to comprehend what he was looking at, it was too late to react to what had already happened. Shadowy hands had already taken hold and gripped his limbs with the force of a lion's bite. He screamed for his mother but the void had already taken hold. He looked back towards his room and he was already hundreds of feet away deep into the void as the door slammed shut. Darkness swallowed Kyle’s mind, body and soul. Which way is up or down? He tried screaming but the darkness was too much. Filling his lungs like water, he tried to scream once more but could hear no sound. Just when all hope was lost, a bright light began to shine from his holy symbol. A wood carved necklace he made himself shined with the power of the sun, forcing all shadow to release Kyle's body. In this moment, surrounded by shadow, Kyle felt the warming light of his God for the first time. In what felt like an eternity of pure bliss, in an instant, a mighty bolt of lighting BLASTED through Kyle’s body, sending the boy through a tunnel of dazzling light. Colors and patterns the likes he’s never before seen swirl and swallow him up through a myriad of shifting and shimmering cylinders. He tries to take in what he can see, but it always seems to slip away from sight. And as it slips, it seems to bend in and outside of Kyle's mind. flying at great speeds down this rainbow shoot. Kyle feels to be in a free fall except for the slightest bit of friction he’d feel from one side and the other, as he twists and turns down this strange tunnel. And as space and time begin to stretch and fixate on a single point, Kyle’s body stops turning and stares deep into the unknown. And it stares back. Filling his heart and soul with the power to conquer time and space, Kyle is then blinded once more by a bright flash of light.
As his eyes adjust, fluorescent lighting comes into focus. A shimmering field of energy blocks his path from reaching the other side of the room. As he looked around he saw two people beside him. One he believes to be a midget, and the other an ant monster person.
“What the fuck” said the man from the other side of the cells containment field.
Fate has brought three unlikely individuals together. Through time and space Adventure awaits. And what kind of adventure lies in store for these legends in the making? Find out all the answers and more, right now.
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♠️💀𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵𝔂 𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱💀♠️
Content Warning: Suicide. Death stuff. But I end on a positive note, I swear. Also this is an RB of a post I wrote for an atheist blog network, so expect to not like it if you are christian.
“Sweet lovely Death, I’m just waiting for your breath. Come sweet Death, one last caress.” That’s Glenn Danzig lyrics in the Misfits song “Last Caress” – at least, it’s every lyric that isn’t an admission to terrible crimes committed in pursuit of a violent end. I’m no music expert, but there’s something exultant in the sound, the way it’s sung, that just makes me want to sing. Is it in a major chord, contrasted with the descending punk rock ghost vocal style? Some scholar could easily explain it, I’m sure.
But besides the music, there’s the message. Singing of death as a thing of desire, like the central theme of Grave Pleasures / Beastmilk‘s oeuvre. “Death is beautiful, death is the meaning of life.” What do I find appealing in this? I suspect it’s the blasphemy.
Blasphemy is one of my earliest passions. Christianity got my motherfucken goat at a very young age, and when I discovered hollywood-flavored satanisms at a later age (early double digits, the Tom Hanks Dragnet movie), I fell in love with it. To insult god and jesus, this is my highest sacrament. See that? I just heresied in my blasphemy. Fantastic.
The appeal there is complex and multi-layered. There’s iconoclasm – the joy of hating on something other people love, which is the primary appeal of Neil Cicieraga hit(job)s like Baby. There’s taboo – violating boundaries that others have set as “sacred.” But those are all negative and I don’t think my joy in blasphemy comes from a purely negative place. There’s something positive in staking out a place for godlessness in the oppressive atmosphere created by ameriKKKan xtianity. Blasphemy is absolutely as important to me as prayer is to jeezis people. I need it.
Back to the thesis, blasphemy is to xtianity as death is to life. There’s an obvious difference between jeezyism and life itself. One has intrinsic value and desirability, the other is an abject waste. So why would it feel pleasing to blaspheme against something that is actually good? Life has its downsides and they are pretty egregious. Danzig has another song from his solo career called “When I’m Tired of Being Alive.” That’s a thing that can happen. Everybody who is born will experience pain, suffering, disability, and a bitter end. Better to have never been born in the first place, for many of us.
But antinatalism – the rejection of procreation – can rouse jumped-up fearful reactions, even from otherwise reasonable people. It’s an ethically perfect proposition – create no humans, create no human suffering – but logic flies out the window when people are confronted with it. For the record, I don’t agree with antinatalism, because I don’t think logic should dictate everything we do, and I have a fanciful dream of the human species living and loving its way into some kind of golden future (after the millennia of unimaginable horror capitalism has guaranteed to us). But I can’t argue against its logic, and I understand that its most heartfelt proponents are people who have experienced far worse things than I have in life.
People have a similar reaction when somebody commits suicide. The rejection of the gift of life is personally terrifying. Some react with anger. That was part of my own process when Kurt Cobain did himself in. I was young. Suicide is sad, but to take it as a personal offense, or some kind of harrowing existential experience for yourself, as a bystander? It’s irrational nonsense. It’s letting the fear of death make a fool of you.
Unlike crustyannity, life has great self-evident value, to the point one could argue it is truly sacred. When something is sacred, part of me just wants to thumb my nose at it. I’m not suicidal. I love being alive. But in a moment of embarrassment or humiliation, you may catch me dropping a “kill me fam.” In times of prolonged stress and difficulty, I may long for some kind of annihilation of the self, perhaps through drugs, or just getting knocked into a coma. But those are passing fancies, nothing in the face of my lust for life. Still, there’s something in it. A grain of a death urge.
There is a black hole at the center of the galaxy. There is a spinning cosmic abyss promising the end of everything, dragging us with invisible arms thousands of light years long. Step inside, lose all thought and all pain. It is inarguably cool, like a skeleton on a motorcycle with a sword in its teeth. Die. It’s fun and easy.
When you see people defending morbid interests, like true crime buffs, they sometimes invoke another idea – that looking upon death unvarnished can give you a greater appreciation for life. Maybe it’s something like that. Howling at the moon. I don’t know, but it does feel good.
At least until I’m looking at the real thing. I’m not one of those murderpedia/faces of death -type motherfuckers, or even a true crime head, because this shit only works at the level of the aesthetic. I’m an enemy of death in any way I can be, at the end of the day. It’s rather impertinent of me – death will ultimately take away everything that ever bothered me about life, and I should be more grateful. But I’m not.
I’ve been watching that Superman & Lois Lane TV show, and this season is about Lois Lane having cancer. Perhaps because I’m watching it in the middle of the night when my emotional defenses are worn down, I have gotten close to tears a few times. Why? Last year I had stage one colon cancer. Picked up several new abdominal scars, but never had to do chemo. Just had the followup colonoscopy and no new polyps. Fantastic. But I got to look at that motorcycle skeleton, and the real thing was not so fun.
Like Michael Hutchence said in New Sensation, “there’s nothing better we can do, than live forever.” Live forever, kids. And in the meantime, if you wanna howl in a graveyard at midnight from time to time, I won’t tell. –
#from the desk of Great American Satan#sweet lovely death - i'm just waiting for your breath - come sweet death one last caress#or don't lol#think i'm whistling past the graveyard
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I’ve read the post you linked and appreciate your opinion. I would say that I definitely shouldn’t have made it sound like James Cameron’s movies aren’t allowed fair criticism, there is definitely critical opinions I have of James, as a white man who made the first film in the early 2000s and is an extremely powerful filmmaker, as well as comments he’s said about topics that involve Avatar, I’m not expecting him to be squeaky clean.
Before I give my opinion, I do want to state, I’m in no way properly and thoroughly educated in the sense of being a movie critic or scholar or major study graduate, I did do a bit a researching and reading to make sure I wasn’t making too many mistakes with my reply. I’m also a Māori woman as well, and initially when I first heard of the film and it’s involvement with Polynesian cultures influence, I was extremely hesitant and critical of the second film, and still am. As well as the first.
Yet, Jake still doesn’t fit the “white saviour" narrative.
James Cameron’s films do give clear messages of the Human (not white but HUMAN) impact on earth/planets, the films are also very anti-military, anti-colonialism and pro-environmentalism.
First, whiteness in Pandora doesn’t exist, the Na’vi have no concept of race as humans do. It’s either you’re Na’vi or your not, in the movies case, they distinguish it as Na’vi and Humanity or dream walkers/sky people/demons in false bodies.
Now, I don’t know of I’m wording this right but I do believe you can say that Sky People/Humans are a metaphor of European Colonialism but the film does make a clear message or I believe a Juxtaposition of the Na’vi and Humans/Sky People.
Jake also invalidates any and all human constructs when he accepts and is accepted as one of the Na’vi. Not to mention, mated for life with one of the most prominent women of the clan, having children with her and fighting against his original race—humanity. Jake completely let’s go of his humanity—not his whiteness when he becomes one of them.
It would be the same if Jake Sully’s character was played by a BIPOC actor and also changing to a BIPOC actor wouldn’t make a huge difference to the character, his actions and motivations would still be the same, the outcome the same, the mindset is the same and the treatment he received from the Na’vi would be the same because they don’t care what colour or ethnicity you are—you’re human/demon/sky people/dream walker, not a white person to them because the problem is HUMANS. And, even in the film what BIPOC characters we do see are literally helping to destroy and colonize Pandora despite the human history on Earth for them to know better and the experiences they would of gone through coming from Earth.
The Na’vi are clearly influenced by real cultures in our world and Cameron has openly admitted to that (as well as other comments that I do have criticism on) yet there are combinations of different indigenous ethnic groups in the film for a reason—because the Na’vi are ailens to humans and from another strange planet just like the humans are to them, because they’re not meant to be representative of one or many but of all the indigenous experiences of colonization.
This film also does somewhat a decent job of showing us that we—humans all have a role in Colonialism and that it isn’t just a white person thing.
“When people are sitting on shit that you want, you make them your enemy. Then you’re justified in taking it.” — Jake, Avatar 2009.
That’s a clear statement about human behaviour as a whole over our history—have others committed crimes that stand out more than others in human history? Absolutely. Does it excuse everyone else’d cruelty and horror? No. Humans are just as destructive as individuals as they are in groups.
Now, with what you’ve written in your reply about Jake being Toruk Makto, forgiven by the clan, helping to unite the clans and becoming the leader after Tsu’tey’s death.
I do agree that Jake was forgiven easily simply because he rode in on Toruk Makto. Should more have been done to prove himself? Absolutely, do I know how that could of been done? No, but I wish it had been done. That’s valid criticism but I ask—if it was a BIPOC actor playing him, other than the removal of the white man, the actions of the character are still the same, the motivation and outcomes are still the same, so what really is the problem? (because him being white holds no value to the story in anyway since the Na’vi only see his human form once and Neytiri only twice) Jake’s character is following the most basic flow of story telling for a redemption arc and taming Toruk Makto is the starting point for that.
You’re also simply boiling Jake’s actions down to his whiteness which again, holds no weight at all. Your focus on his “whiteness” loses sight of how (even with a BIPOC actor, again) the choices, actions and influences are still the same and follow the most basic plot flow ever seen media. Jake will always be supported by other humans for HUMAN CAUSES NOT WHITE PEOPLE SHIT BUT HUMANS.
Jake is the protagonist, a dream walker chosen by Eywa. When Neytiri first saw Jake she was ready to kill him—but Eywa interfered. When Neytiri was going to leave him, Eywa sent another sign. If Jake had been attacked after the destruction of Hometree, no doubt, for obvious plot reasons as shown before, Eywa would give another sign as she had done before. Jake being forgiven by the Na’vi is the most basic flow of redemption arcs that are in media and books. It could have been dragged out to make it more believe and feel a little more deserving of redemption. Yet, every movie has a build up to something going disastrous and then the good guys find a way or the anti-hero/unlikely hero or whatever finds a way to redeem themselves given their actions played a part. Again, basic flow of a redemption arc in media.
Yes, Neytiri saving Jake from the Colonel and killing him is a nice deconstruction of the male lead saves the day trope. Eywa saving the Na’vi from losing against humans and their overwhelming machine weaponry is another deconstruction of male lead saves the day, and shows Pandora saving itself.
Jake conquerors Toruk Makto on fair ground with his knowledge and training as one of the people. He isn’t sure his plan will work and the last time Toruk Makto happened, Neytiri said her Grandfather’s, grandfather was chosen and Jake understood what Toruk has stood for to the Na’vi and realizes that in the first film, after Hometree was destroyed that it’s a great time of sorrow for them and that by following their practices he’s able to do that. Given, this is also another flow of basic redemption arcs in media, it’d one for obvious plot reasons with Jake being the protagonist and happens in ALL media and the movie has obviously moved onto starting that arc for Jake at that point in the movie.
Jake also follows the Na’vi which isn’t the typical “white saviour” way. It’s always done the white way and with their resources and help alone. Whereas, Jake rides Toruk Makto (as foreshadowed earlier in the film) because it brought the Na’vi together in a time of sorrow—because he honored a tradition and huge part of the Na’vi white saviours never do, he only rides Toruk into the final battle and let’s him go because he’s no longer needed, Jake doesn’t hold onto the biggest bird in the sky, he respects the tradition of the Na’vi. When he does return to the clan after Hometree is destroyed, he never speaks out of place, he asks Tsu’tey for permission, he’s respectful and understands that after what he’s done, he needs to be careful and start to rebuild the trust. Jake PRAYS to Eywa, because he knows what humans are capable, they’ve destroyed their home and now they’ll destroy the home of his new people and he wants to protect that in anyway possible, because Eywa chose him for something and he owes her everything after she saved him more than once and in more ways than one.
While, I accept that there is fair criticism of these film to be written about, you simply boil all your judgement of Jake down to his whiteness without thinking that it’s the most basic form of plot flow for Jake’s arc throughout the movie. Again, even if Jake was played by a BIPOC actor the movie doesn’t change.
One thing that is really missed in a lot of arguments is that every thinks Jake is the saviour, but it’s shown over and over again that he isn’t, he constantly loses, fails and runs away from the problem (ran away from Earth, encourages the Na’vi to runaway because it’s easier than fighting back for what’s right) and we see that it’s not Jake who saves Pandora, but Pandora that saves Jake.
the “white saviour” argument has no grounds in avatar when it comes to jake sully, dislike the movie for all i care, but y’all throwing around words without understanding them when it comes to that, especially when it literally holds no ground in a fictional world inhabited by 10 feet tall cat-like blue aliens
#nvm i edited it a little#yeah i’ll never claim “it’s just a movie” bc it does have clear messages and critism to be given to it#and i’m not expecting white man james cameron to make the most correct and perfect movie#definitely still traces of a white mans fantasy in the film but he actually and i don’t know how#but he doesn’t make jake sully a “white saviour” like yes he is a white man but he definitely ain’t that trope and i’ll die on that hill
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Betrayal. Rage. Power.
A deep fury hiding just below the surface.
How much is she willing to destroy for her own satisfaction?
Basics:
Name: Lei Zhū
Age: 28
Gender: F
Height: 5′6″
Orientation: Lesbian
Faith: Atheist
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Background:
Lei is not one to share details of her past - not even the pair of companions she has traveled with for months know much beyond the basics. They know she comes from the domain of I’Cath, a city slowly decaying while trapped in a never-ending dream. They know she escaped many years ago, and will not speak of anyone she left behind.
What they do not know is the past stays with Lei even though she refuses to speak of it, never allowing her to rest.
Lei left her home domain with a burning desire for revenge and a desperate need for power. After years of searching, she found the latter - though it came with a price. Undeterred, Lei claimed it for her own. Though it may not have been a wise decision, Lei no longer cared about consequences or regrets. All that mattered was her revenge - and the suffering of those who had wronged her.
Though she has no real desire to help others, Lei’s current job as bodyguard to a strange scholar and his awful bird is just one step on her journey to vengeance - though admittedly a profitable one. Rich and connected, her employer seems to have no interest in her goals or motives - nor any qualms about the trail of bodies the group seems to leave in its wake.
A blessing, since she suspects that trail will continue to grow as her abilities awaken.
Characteristics:
Lei is both strong and dexterous, able to defeat opponents twice her size while avoiding attacks sent her way with impressive acrobatics. Most times, those she fights do not even see her approach - her stealth allowing her to incapacitate them with no warning. Lei is not one for laws or morality - if she sees something she needs, she will use any sleight of hand to grab it. Brusque and aggressive, many who have crossed her path would describe her as rude. Those unfortunate enough to antagonize her realize her callous attitude toward the life of others - and the smoldering rage that blazes just below the surface. There was once a time when Lei could be described as protective, but her all-encompassing desire for revenge has buried this instinct deep within.
Personality Trait: I always seek new enemies to enhance my powers - and if I can’t find any, I’ll make them.
Personality Trait: I am easily annoyed by others, and have no time for social niceties.
Ideal: Vengeance. Those who have wronged me will pay.
Bond: Someone important was taken from me. I will make sure the one who did it suffers.
Flaw: I do not value the lives of others. If you get in my way, you’re dead.
Appearance:
Those who see her would describe Lei as pretty - though never to her face. Her silky mahogany hair is cut into a choppy bob that ends around her chin, with bangs parted to each side. Her porcelain skin is free of any blemishes, a miracle since she knows no medicine to heal any attacks she does not manage to dodge. Her monolid eyes are an unsettling crimson. Her red lips are often drawn back in a sneer, the pointed fangs within on full display. Everything Lei owns is in shades of black or dark gray, and she enjoys practicality over design. The only accessory she seems to own is a small golden bell, hung on a long red cord - though she is quick to conceal it if anyone notices her longing gaze.
Specific content warnings for Lei’s route include: body horror, mass murder, sleeping disorders, and unreality.
#character introduction#characters#ro#ch: the beast#ch: lei zhū#dread reflection#dread reflection if#artbreeder#interactive fiction
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It’s so hard to sustain Chu Wanning’s particular mindset/narrative voice in A Tear in the Vein, but I’ve been doing a great job so far, and this section is just...I’m just so pleased with it, and with how much it says about his mental state in this fic without ever saying what that mental state is.
body horror cw
There are nights, far and few between, when Chu Wanning doesn’t dream of Mo Ran. Sometimes he dreams of dying and being laid under the earth forever. Awake through it all, as layers of soil and rock rain down on his open eyes, his slack mouth. He dreams of being torn open, so when he looks down he sees his own innards coiled slick in his lap, and then being thrown in a shallow hole and covered with dry leaves.
Dead, but awake. Trapped in his body as it rots, skin falling from muscle, muscle shriveling from the bone, no pain but a great wrongness spreading through him. The last taste of osmanthus jelly still lingering on the tip of his tongue. He lies awake as the years pass, the world growing ever more distant as layers of sediment build on top of him. People walk over where he lays, ignorant and happy, going about their business while he listens to their echoing laughter, their tears. A thousand, thousand lives, unspooling like silk thread, while roots grow through his ribs, trapping him in place as they grow sunward.
One doesn’t have to be a scholar to recognize a metaphor. It doesn’t even bother trying to be subtle. He has to admit, it is more poetic than his reality, where instead of earth he lies beneath the heavy layers of his grief, far from sun and home.
Once he dreamt of someone calling his name from far above. The earth shifted like someone was trying to dig down to where he lay, but when he didn’t answer they stopped. Everything was still and quiet, and whomever it was, he never dreamed of them again.
#2ha#Chu Wanning#beefic#body horror cw#I love him so much#but I have to follow in Meatbun's mighty footsteps#and make him absolutely miserable at all times
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* . ⊹ ── * 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 + 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐘 * ── ⊹ . *
READ ALL ABOUT MAY BELLOW
BASICS;
full name: mayella barclay
nickname(s): may
age: twenty-six
birthday: october thirty-first
gender and pronouns: ciswoman + she&her
occupation: owner of undercover books
hometown: hidehill, tennessee
neighborhood: hide square
MAIN HEADCANONS;
may is the youngest of three children, having two older brothers. she was born and raised in hidehill and doesn’t plan on leaving. it’s her dream to raise her family in the same place she grew up in.
growing up may was always a smart kid, having grown up in a family of overachieving scholars. so, from a very young age, may’s nose was always in books. her parents excepted excellent marks from may and her brothers, which they were happily able to deliver.
may’s love for books was evident even at a young age, having rather spending her days reading then playing with other kids. because of this, she had trouble making friends, and it didn’t help that she was very quiet and shy.
she grew out of her shyness in high school, but was still fairly quiet. focusing solely on her studies and getting good grades then going out and having a ‘normal’ teenage experience. by age sixteen, may was definitely burnt out and sought out something to keep her going.
she got her first job at sixteen as a book clerk at undercover books, falling in love with the job. this worried her parents, as they wanted her to go to college and get a successful career like her older brothers. once may graduated high school, she took a full-time position at undercover books and never looked back. now, ten years later, she solely owns and operates it.
EXTRAS:
you’d think being born on a holiday would make the person hate it, right? nope, not may. she absolutely loves halloween and has always loved that it’s her birthday as well. she has an unexpected love for anything horror, mystery, and thriller related.
despite being shy as an child, may is a very friendly adult and loves meeting new people. it’s definitely her trying to make up for the fact she had no friends as a kid, but no one needs to know that.
if may becomes your friend, oh boy get ready. she will talk your ear off about the book she's reading, pop in unexpected, etc. she’s a very loyal friend to have, notably being the ‘mom friend’. she’ll always have your best interest in mind and gives great advice.
may has a blink and you’ll miss it sarcasm to her. she’s mainly very playful and loves to tease.
may does regret not going to college and sometimes considers selling undercover books, but theres a part of her that’s so attached to the place that she really doesn’t see herself leaving anytime soon.
despite the constant smile on her face, there is a wave of sadness that courses through her. she doesn’t like letting people in on her problems, choosing to bottle up her emotions. she doesn’t like feeling like a burden and hates bothering people with her problems. no matter how hard you try, you’ll never get the truth on how she’s really feeling.
may did not know jade parker at all, but was still heavily affected by her disappearance and death. the shadow is extremely terrifying to her and may lives in constant fear.
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Awe! Thank you! I'm glad you think my designs are fun ^^. I love Whispersong and Spirit so much! Chickpea also because it's adorable. I'm trying to decide if I want their story to be a zombie apocalypse or an Eldridge horror like HP Lovecraft.
If it were a zombie apocalypse, I have idea that could work. Humans decide to try and make a cure for rabies but fail. It still caused fatality but it also caused cats to come back to life and still be aggressive. If I go with a clan setting, it could be that the leader was taken down by the zombie cats and now the clan is scrambling to figure out what to do. Then our protagonists figure out that they can kill them without spreading the disease.
For the Eldridge horror concept, it would probably be in a kittypet like setting. There are no humans but there are remains of their legacy. Builds, statutes, landmarks, things that they built. There's a old tom living in a house. He is kinda like a scholar, knowing things most don't and having shelves upon shelves of books most cats can't read. Well, this tom has a she-cat who he is mentoring. She is a young adult and though other cats are rude to her for reason that will be made aware later. After a session of reading, she leaves to go to her own house. She's pregnant and though she hasn't told anyone, her mentor knows it and was nice enough to give her a bag of coins to help her live better when the kit comes. During the night however, the she-cat gets an aweful dream and jolts awake. She immediately runs to the scholar's house to make sure he is alright. Unfortunately he isn't. He is dead, murdered and of course, she's being blamed. The blame gets worse when it's discovered that he left his house to the she-cat. They believe it's a motive for his murder but without proper evidence, she isn't convinced. This doesn't stop the public still putting blame on her of course. Years pass, and now the she-cat is older. She stays in her house alone, choosing not to step foot in the house that was given to her. She has a grandchild who lives with her, the character in the last ask, and though she has tried to shield them, they are very curious about the old house that is apparently theirs but their grandmother refuses to acknowledge. One day, they decide to get answers but while doing so, they are attacked by an old friend of their grandmothers. They fight her off and run, unfortunately getting fired from their job in the process but not exactly caring about that. They get to their small and run down house only to yell at their grandmother, telling her that they want answers and also that they want to go into the house. To their surprise, their grandmother actually agrees and they head to the house. The she-cat from earlier is their and the two have to fight her with the grandmother killing her friend. Suddenly, our protagonist starts getting voices in their head, telling them to open an amulet that they've had since they were a kit. They do so, feeling hypnotized, not knowing that by doing so, they have just released horrors onto this earth.
Okay so. This is probably super long and I don't want to potentially bore you so I'll probably stop here. Sorry about the length. If you have any thoughts about which idea would be better for the story going forward, let me know! Have a great day.
oooo
they both sound like interesting apocolypse ideas
in the end it would depend on what you'd have more fun / interest in writing but I could see both having a lot of potential in them
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A Brainful Process || Morgan &Rio
@3starsquinn
Cemetery field trip!
(Contains: zombie and animal gore)
Cemeteries were safer to visit in Morgan’s idle house than the woods. In cemeteries, most of the company was resting six feet under, and those that weren’t had a tendency to wave at Morgan as she walked by, content to leave her alone, one still soul to another. Some even warned her when it was better to turn back home. There’s a girl with the stake that comes by around now, a ghost might say. Or, we don’t like you that much. Cemeteries were safer, yes, and yet somehow tonight Morgan still found herself tackled to the ground, wrestling with a one legged zombie who, for all her wild hunger, really knew how to use her strength to her advantage. “Uh--a little help, maybe?” She called, appealing to one of the spirits nearby. “I don’t know what you expect me to do about it,” the old man said, and drifted off to watch her struggle somewhere else. “Okay, okay, ok--ow!” The zombie woman bit into her shoulder, moaning with hunger. Morgan kicked, trying to knock her off balance enough to shift the weight between them like Mina had taught her, but it was a lot harder when the opponent didn’t have much of a mind for sensing pain. Morgan set her jaw and lashed out to struggle with the zombie woman again. “We got this,” she grunted. “You’re gonna be fine, you just gotta stop trying to eat me!”
Cemeteries had scared Orion far before he knew ghosts and spirits existed. He supposed he always knew they were real. Growing up learning about werewolves and Fae made pretty much anything believable. If his parents had bothered telling him about Santa, Rio might still think he was real. But he had always thought of ghosts in the more creepypasta YouTube sense. That they haunted others. They were crazy stories that made things colder and flipped on lights. Not the kind that possessed other humans and drained their life force. But ever since Rio had learned about the Dybbuks and other evil spirits, Rio hadn’t been able to get them off his mind. Rio began pulling books about ghosts and spirits. The more he read, the more intrigued he became with some of the accounts of sightings. Winston and Ricky must have really gotten to Rio. Without even realizing it, on his way home that night he was taking a detour and heading towards the cemetery. For no other reason than pure stupidity, if Rio had to guess. Once he was within range however, he started hearing voices. The hairs on his arms stood straight up and he immediately began shaking. At least, until he realized that the voices weren’t ghosts or spirits but a person. A person that sounded like they were in danger. Rio picked up his pace, beginning to job before breaking into a sprint towards the cemetery, stopping only when he finally spotted the source of the voice, a woman being attacked by another. “Hey!” Rio yelled, trying to sound more dangerous than he actually was, “Let her go!” Rio began moving towards the two slowly, freezing when he finally realized who the victim of the evening was, “Professor?”
The sound of another voice made Morgan’s dead body go stiff. Fuck. The last thing she needed was human company, or some hunter about to stumble upon a two-for-one deal. “W-we’re fine!” She grunted, finally grappling the zombie woman to the ground and pinning her down. “She’s--she’s just---uh--” Morgan struggled for a good lie. The woman was in literal pieces, her skin sagging off her bones and pockets of bare muscle spreading bursts of dark, grotesque color. And the person was coming closer. “Having an attack! Nothing to see here--Rio?”
Morgan saw him through the edge of her vision and didn’t know whether to be relieved or agitated. She hadn’t told Rio the ‘sudden loss in her family’ that explained away two weeks worth of missed classes had been her own. She hadn’t told any of her students. Funny enough, that still wasn’t a conversation she felt like having. But there wasn’t going to be any fooling him. He was too much of a supernatural scholar to not see the obvious, at least when it came to the woman thrashing and groaning under her. “Hey!” She said brightly, panic tight in her smile. “How weird and amazing to run into you here! I’m fine, she’s fine, we’re both fine right now, completely. But you should really stay back and um, maybe grab some rope? And some fresh brains?” She was convinced, maybe falsely, that she had enough confidence to sell everything she was saying without the need for questions. Then the zombie woman rocked against her weight and threw her off, driven by the pull of fresh meat.
For a long moment, Orion just stood from a distance and stared at Morgan and the woman clawing at her. This didn’t make any sense. Why was Morgan being so casual right now? Was this some sort of fever dream brought on by the lack of sleep? “Uh” Rio hummed, drawing it out for far longer than any of them needed. “Both fine. Right.” He realized, maybe many beats too late, that he had still not moved from his spot. Until now, he had stared at the sight as if it was a horror scene in a movie. “Brains?” Rio asked, touching at his head instinctively before realizing that Morgan probably had a rope and brains here. Because this was a zombie. A zombie. A ZOMBIE? It took this long for the fear to finally rush into Rio’s body and he immediately started fidgeting, the usual skin crawling feeling worming its way through his body. “Oh my god. A zombie! I’ve never met a zombie! I’m going to do something now.” Rio spoke aloud, as if that was going to finally motivate his body to follow the commands. Apparently it worked, his feet finally inching across the grass and towards the two. “What do you want me to do with these things once I have them?”
Morgan’s thin smile fractured with dismay. As much as she was relieved Rio wasn’t some guns a blazing hunter trying to get more goo for their collection. But she didn’t know if this was really the time for scholarly curiosity either. Maybe more like run and take action time. Move faster NOW time. Morgan dove for the zombie again, tackling her to the ground and pressing down with all her weight. She looked up at Rio, pleading for his help. She could keep the zombie pinned down for now, but she wouldn’t be able to help the dead woman with just her hands alone. And, shit--of course Rio wouldn’t have anything on him. He wasn’t Kaden, for crying out loud. Morgan looked around them, mind racing to keep up, to stay ahead of any panic. Maybe this was the time for scholarly curiosity. “The plan!” She said, forcing as much confidence into her bright voice as possible. “The plan is you...find something that will do instead of rope. Um...your belt! And uuh…” She looked around her with dismay. “My belt!” It was a lot daintier, meant for her small waist as decoration rather than supporting any weight. “And we are going to bind the zombie as tightly as we can. Because, fun fact: zombies have a much higher pain threshold than humans! Whatever would hurt for you won’t hurt for them, so that’s not something to worry about when they’re...like this.” She swallowed thickly and forced another smile as the zombie rocked and struggled under her. “When her limbes are secure, we’ll get her some of the food from my bag--” what was supposed to have been her lunch, “--and give her some of that. And then...more, probaby. From...somewhere else. I’m not...actually sure from where yet, but--fun zombie fact 2: decomposition and ‘rabid’ behavior is a symptom of starvation and not, necessarily, the zombie’s natural state! With sustainable access to food, your average zombie isn’t much different than a human, by outward appearances anyway.” Now if they could work on this together without Rio wondering too hard about how she knew all this, it might actually be easy. Or at least, not hard.
Okay, obviously it was clear that Morgan was preoccupied right now. Trying to hold back the woman- er uh the zombie from munching on either of them. Ignoring the swelling excitement as well as the far more palpable fear that was building inside of him, Orion tried to put aside any jitters and listen to Morgan’s instructions. He was lucky he had worn jeans today instead of the usual joggers or track pants, and that he was embarrassingly skinny for his age and height, so any pair of jeans that he wore usually required a belt. He pulled the belt free, hooking his pinky around a belt loop to avoid his jeans dropping. God, that would be embarrassing. “Okay uh- my belt is good. And your belt is uh- still attached to you.” Rio called, still standing a few feet back. He was not incredibly comfortable with the idea of undoing his teacher’s belt, but he supposed there were… strange circumstances.
“This is great!” Rio tried remaining positive, his voice cracking at the end of his sentence. Although Rio greatly appreciated the information on Zombies, a species he had not done much study on. He was familiar with a couple of culture’s depiction of zombies in their own lore, but from what Morgan was describing, they differed quite a bit. “I am very happy to help and I am totally going to keep my cool during this time.” Rio said aloud, probably trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince Morgan. He slowly inched towards them, holding his arms out with his belt gripped tightly in both hands. “Do uh- you want me to do this? Or you? Is the whole thing about a zombie bite still true?”
Jeepers, this was going to be tricky. The zombie woman was beginning to thrash, dragging her and Morgan across the ground inch by inch. The closer Rio got, the more she wriggled her head, gnashing her rotting teeth. Morgan shifted position, pressing her knee down into the woman’s back. This was really not very seemly, but she couldn’t think of another way that would keep the zombie from hurting anyone long enough to feed properly. “We got this, we got this,” she murmured, still racing for ideas. “We got this!” She declared. “You are doing a great job, Rio! Just grab her legs and I’ll get the arms, and we’ll bind them up together. No worries!” She grabbed one of the zombie’s arms, then the other, wrestling against the woman’s frustration. “But, uh, yeah, about the bite. Fun fact, that’s--fuck!” The zombie woman’s teeth bit into her hand, grazing the cuff she used to hide her real scar. Morgan finished wrangling the arms with a grimace and whipped off her belt to fasten her arms together so the wrists would come more easily. “The bite thing is real,” she said, looking down at the wound in her hand. “But don’t freak out, Rio, okay? It doesn’t matter if she bites me, it’s you I’m worried about. Uh, get her wrists and ankles together?”
Orion could do this. He could totally do this. He did not love the idea of grabbing onto this woman, zombie or no. But Morgan seemed convinced that she would not feel the pain and that they were not going to harm her. That was what Rio wanted right? What was some tying and gagging if it meant helping her and others not get hurt? That was totally something that Rio could get behind. Grabbing onto her legs was surprisingly easy. Hunter strength and all made wrangling the woman’s legs surprisingly easy. At least, until the zombie bit Morgan. Rio dropped the legs immediately and began screaming his head off. At that moment, he wasn’t sure what was happening. Would Morgan turn into a zombie? How fast was the process? Was there something he could do to stop it? Rio had seen some zombie shows. How they amputated the body part that had been bitten to stop the spread. Even the idea made Rio light headed. He definitely couldn’t do that. Finally, Rio contained himself again, grappling the legs again and holding them. What the heck did Morgan mean that she wasn’t worried about herself? Was she immune to the bite somehow? “I- I don’t- uhhhhh” Rio’s brain broke for a moment, but he forced himself out of the slump. Grabbing onto the woman’s wrists and easily pulling them back to meet the ankles and wrapping his belt around them. “Oh god- Oh god. I hate this. I’m really bad at this. I think I’m going to puke. Are you okay???”
“Rio! You cannot puke on this woman!” Morgan shrieked. Oh dear. This wasn’t calm. This was the opposite of calm. Could she breathe? Was that ever going to work again? She missed the time when all she had to do was tell herself to breathe and her body would start to right itself back into something right and normal. But the quiet was too great and there was too much happening at once. “I’m fine! I’m not even bleeding!” Mostly because she didn’t have any circulation. “Just--just hold her steady and don’t turn into a zombie!” She scrambled over to her bag and prised open a tupperware full of brains, a blend, as it happened, but even a smidgen of person in there probably wasn’t going to get this woman back to normal. They’d have to take her somewhere better, or get better to her. Morgan stuck the tupperware under the woman’s nose and watched, grimacing, as she moaned and wrangled herself closer to fit as much of it in her mouth as possible. Morgan sat back and deflated. That would keep her busy for, what, five minutes? “I’m sorry,” she said. “I am fine though. I’m…” Morgan shook her head and sid off the cuff, showing Rio her old scar, a perfect oval in the shape of Remmy’s mouth. “I’m already bitten and dead, Rio. Say, you didn’t happen to bring a car here, did you?”
“I’m not going to puke on her!” Orion yelled back, unsure why he was even still yelling. Stress. He totally blamed stress. He needed to calm down. Take a chill pill or something. That was all thrown out the window when Morgan tried to reassure him by letting him know that she wasn’t bleeding. “How are you not bleeding?” Rio was right back to freaking out now. But Morgan seemed more together than Rio was. She was in the right state of mind to fish out something from her bag and give it to the tied up woman. “Is that… brains?” Rio asked, the most calm he had been since showing up here. He examined the mush curiously. Everything seemingly clicked into place when Morgan showed off what looked like an old, already healed scar. She was dead? “You’re… a zombie?” Rio muttered aloud, needing to hear the words to actually begin processing it. A moment of fear passed through him as he considered that Rio had just willingly walked into being part of their midnight snack. But he pushed the thought away quickly. That couldn’t be. This was his professor. They had talked about books and the supernatural together. “Woah. You’re nothing like the old Haitian story of zombies.” His head tilted curiously as he examined his teacher to try to pick out any defining details. By all accounts, she looked human to him. “Hmm… interesting.” Rio nodded, and then grimaced at the next question, “About that… I don’t really have a car right now. It belongs to my parents and I’m not really talking to them right now and- y’know what? It’s a whole thing. Clearly we have other things going on right now. Maybe I can call my friend Blanche. Or one of my roommates! Maybe they can help us? Or uh… Where are we taking her anyways?”
“Wow, kid, that’s really one heck of a compliment,” Morgan deadpanned. “But...yes. I got hurt really bad and I died. Two months ago now. That’s why I missed so much school towards the end of the semester. I died, Rio.” She looked down at the woman gnashing her teeth at the brain bits in the tupperware. “But I have people who help take care of me. I can stay fed easily. I have a home. I have a girlfriend that loves me. I even have magic pills for my new zombie physiology that help manage all the depression I’ve got over dying. I don’t know which of those this woman is missing, but whatever it is, she’s still a person. She’s as much of a person as I am. Does that make sense?” She looked at him earnestly. Rio was a good kid. Rio didn’t believe in hurting people. He had to get it. Maybe it was hard to see the woman in her own right. Even Morgan couldn’t do that. She didn’t know her name or if she was happy before she died or how long she had been dragging herself out of bed. She could only see her pain. She had to be in so much pain to have sunk this far. The days of starving had to have been excruciating. With this kind of decay, maybe it was even weeks. “I was thinking of getting her to the butcher’s, but I don’t know if their stock will be enough for her. It’s worth a shot, if we can keep her from getting noticed. “Unless you wanna do a run? You got venmo, Rio?” She asked. The brains were almost gone, and of the two of them, Rio was the one most in danger. And this wasn’t his problem, now that she was mostly subdued. “You don’t have to, you know. I can take this from here.”
Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say at this moment. Clearly, Orion had no idea what he was doing. He had grown up knowing about the supernatural. He loved learning about them and yet despite this he still had just barely scratched the surface. He knew nothing about Zombies, or real zombies at least. “Wow. I’m uh- sorry? That doesn’t sound like a good thing. But you don’t look dead.” Rio tried, he didn’t think that helped redeem him. “Okay that was probably a bad thing to say too. But despite all that… I’m really glad that you have a good support system, y’know? That must have been a really difficult thing to go through and… well I’m really glad things seem okay now. At least, hopefully everything’s okay.” And Morgan seemed dead set on helping this woman right now. And though the woman tied up seemed a little… murdery right now, Rio believed that with some help she could end up like Morgan seemed now. Completely put together. “I believe you. And I’m in. Let’s help her. Uh- I can run somewhere and get stuff… I don’t know what to get. But tell me and I’ll figure something out.”
“Well, you can tell that to my necrosis whenever I wait too long to eat my wheaties.” Morgan mumbled. You can test my pulse too, if you want.” She held out her hand, the bite standing out as a heavy shadow on her pale skin. “And no, you don’t need to be sorry--” But Rio was. He was just a kid doing his best with problems way bigger than himself. “But thank you. I know you mean it well.” She stared at the woman writhing in front of them again. She could see, too clearly now, what hunters did. A raving thing, a disaster they needed to triage before it got out of hand, a monster… “I can venmo you. A hundred dollars so should be able to buy out the brains at the butcher shop, whatever other weird organs they’ve got. That’s a start.” And while he was out she could maybe scrounge up a deer. They wandered through near dusk in little clusters, and it was the time of year when fauns were left to hide in the tall grass while mothers hunted. If she was quick and lucky, she’d be able to nab one for this woman to have. And maybe then, maybe if they were lucky, she could be okay. Morgan wrenched a hand through her hair and took out her phone to send the money over.
Orion laughed, happy that despite the horrible events that had clearly befallen his teacher without him even knowing about it, she could maintain some level of humor. “Don’t worry. I believe you. It’s uh- definitely not my first rodeo with the supernatural.” Even if he didn’t quite understand, he did believe. “Um right. I got it. Give me…” Rio paused, checking his phone for the time, “Twenty minutes. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
One of the good things about being a hunter? Superhuman endurance. Rio was definitely not in shape, but he could run for a while without having to stop. From here, he was pretty sure that it would be more efficient to get a car. If he could run home and borrow Ricky’s truck then he could get to the butcher shop and back without too much trouble. So he ran towards their house as fast as he possibly could, not letting anything distract him.
It worried Morgan how much animals still trusted her. The faun was too scared of the moaning woman six yards ahead to move. Morgan was able to settle down near it, still as death, and when it came over to sniff her out of curiosity, she took its neck and snapped it. The head dangled limp from the body like a toy that had lost all its stuffing. She carried it back to the woman and did not have to wait for her to wriggle and strain against her bonds trying to eat it. Morgan took out a knife and sliced the creature open neatly so she didn’t have to fight. Then she walked away enough yards so the smell of it wouldn’t compel her to steal a starving woman’s meal and licked blood and skin from her hands.
When Rio finally returned, Morgan was perched atop a large cross marker, stained with blood for all that she’d tried to keep herself clean. “Just unwrap everything for her and drop it where she can reach,” she called. “And then, you know, come over here so you don’t get bitten.”
Buying brains from a butcher was perhaps the most uncomfortable Orion had ever been. Despite this incredibly odd request, the butcher didn’t seem to think much of it at all. Which could only mean that this was not an uncommon request that he received. Which probably implied that Morgan and this woman were not the only zombies in town. It hadn’t occurred until now that Morgan could have been the one that turned this woman. But no. His Professor wouldn’t do that. Not unless she had to for some reason. Right?
Rio drove back to Morgan mostly in silence. He hated driving the truck. He didn’t trust himself with a big car. Plus he could barely see while driving the thing and hated ruining Ricky’s seat and mirror placement. But desperate times. Rio parked and hopped out, extending his arm so he could hold the brains at a distance from himself. “I’m here!” Rio yelled out, stopping when he noticed that Morgan had blood all over her shirt. Oh no. “What happened? Are you okay?” Rio asked. Despite this, maybe because he was too trusting just as Athena had always insulted him with, he followed Morgan’s instructions. Unwrapping the brains and tossing it to the tied up woman before hopping away and standing close to his professor. He could smell the blood that stained her. It was fresh.
“It’s okay, Rio,” Morgan said. “What do you think I’m gonna do, die again?” She smirked. A beat later, maybe too late, she wondered if that was maybe a bad joke. Rio knew about the supernatural, but maybe not about death. He hadn’t studied zombies before in his big secret library. He barely seemed comfortable with hauling brains and organs over from the butcher. Morgan sighed with a grimace and tried again. “I killed a faun for her. I didn’t think that was something you needed to be around to see. Brains sustain zombies best, but freshly dead meat is…” Her stomach grumbled, twisting. “Like candy on Halloween. You can’t not have any.” She looked down at him, still clinging to her perch. Her fingers had worn notches into the rock, worrying at the grain to keep from breaking off Bambi’s leg and going to town herself. “It’s just how we’re made,” she said quietly. “When the mother comes back to see if her faun is still around, I’ll try to get her too, if our friend isn’t back to herself yet.” She hesitated a moment, wondering if they had crossed into over sharing territory, if this was already too much for one troubled kid to bear in one night. “You don’t have to watch, or be around for any of that,” she said. “This is just another Tuesday for me, but it was a lot to get used to. It still is. You’ve been a big help, though. If all this turns out okay, it’s gonna be because of you. Because you cared.” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “You uh...you can ask me questions, if you have any. I know all this is...strange. And lived experience can tell you certain things a book can’t.” She offered him a smile, her fear weighing on her softness. Please don’t think less of me for this.
Orion laughed nervously. Was that Morgan being offended? Or Morgan making a joke. A few seconds later and Morgan smirked at Rio, hopefully confirming that it had been a joke instead. “A faun.” Rio repeated, mostly to himself. He was still processing. Rio appreciated the information. He was taking mental notes, making sure to remember all of the information that he was learning about zombies. Maybe he would head back to the building tomorrow, start digging through his books for some information on the undead. The whole thing seemed like Alain’s side, but Rio knew better than to trust a hunter’s point of view when it came to the supernatural. Rio knew from personal experience that those teachings were biased. “I don’t- I usually don’t do that well around blood. But uh- I don’t want to make you do this stuff by yourself.” Morgan opened the board for questions. And boy, did Rio have questions. Way more questions than he possibly knew how to order and ask. “I- I have questions. But right now seems like the wrong time, y’know? With her… in the state she is in.” He sighed. Just another person in this town that has been through some awful experience that Rio wasn’t able to help prevent.
Morgan nodded and watched the woman eat. It might’ve been faster to let her have her hands back, but Morgan remembered the complete haze around her mind when she woke into her feeding frenzy. She hadn’t even known her own name, much less ‘eating people bad.’ If the wrong person had been in the room, she probably would’ve done everything she could to tear them to bits. “Anyone tell you lately what a good kid you are?” She asked. It was a rhetorical question, but she hoped nonetheless that someone was encouraging his generosity. Even if he could probably stand to get less squeamish. In time, the groans of the woman changed. Morgan gestured for Rio to stay back and made her way slowly over.
There was hardly anything left of the faun, but just enough that Morgan couldn’t stop herself from reaching into its ruined skull and scooping out its small black eyes and the thin tissue of its cheek muscle to munch on. She knelt down near the woman, still working the flesh in her mouth. “Hey,” she said, gently as she could with her mouth half full. “Can you talk? Are you good now?” The woman groaned and dashed herself into the red stained grass, angling her mouth for the rest of the faun. “Okay! Not feeling the impulse control. That’s okay! But I’m gonna need like...one intelligible word before you get this carcass.”
“Mmmhh. Aaarr...oh..k-kay.”
Blessed universe she was okay.
Morgan went around and loosened her bonds enough for her to wriggle free and stepped back as she held the faun and the scraps of flesh she hadn’t devoured yet as if they were all the treasure in the world. “You...shouldn’t...have done this,” she panted.
“I don’t see why not, Morgan replied. “What’s your name?”
The woman sucked the last remnants of life from the faun’s ribs and reached for a scattering of brain bits to shove into her mouth. “Ashley,” she said at last. “I didn’t--” She paused to swallow. As she wiped the mess from her chin she caught sight of the blood and mess on her hands, matching Morgan’s and then some. “I didn’t ask for any of this,” she said through gritted teeth. “Not any of this, you idiots.” And then she was sprinting downhill, stumbling and falling over her own feet but never stopping, the dead animal still tucked in her arms. Morgan reached for her, but caught only the edge of her torn hiking vest. It fell right off, like it had been waiting to all along.
“It hurts sometimes, being like this, Rio,” she said, hanging her head as Ashley disappeared from sight. “Even when you have everything you need, it can still hurt.” There wasn’t any point in tracking her down again, not when Rio could get hurt, and he had done so much already. She willed herself to look up and gave him the saddest apologetic smile. “Sorry you got sucked into this. What were you up to before anyway?”
Orion felt the heat burning his cheeks as the blush came on. Good kid. They weren’t unfamiliar words, not anymore. But they still warmed him each time he heard them. He supposed being starved for acceptance and praise did that to a kid. “Uh- I get told that more so recently than ever before. But uh- Thank you.” Whether or not she was expecting an answer, Rio thought it would be rude to just not thank her for the compliment.
Over time, Rio witnessed first hand how the almost primal hunger seemed to die down from the woman. Slowly, her eating became less frantic and more of that of a human that had not eaten in days. Morgan was fearless, strolling right up to her. Though he supposed death probably helped to quell many of the fears that Rio felt right now.
The zombie- Ashley- seemed confused. Scared, even. And despite what the two had done to help her, Ashley took off the moment she was comprehensive and scurried off down the hill, leaving Rio and Morgan by themselves. And all of that fear and anguish that Rio could see in Ashley’s face, must have been similar to what Morgan had been through. Her words were raw, her smile doing nothing to mask the sadness or pain present in her voice. This was her life now. Something she was forced to deal with in order to stay alive. Or re-alive, which wasn’t actually a word but would have to apply for this situation. “You helped her. Even though she couldn’t see it right now… you just protected people from potentially getting hurt. And you protected her from making a terrible mistake. That’s… incredible.” Rio breathed, realizing only now that he had been holding his breath the entire time. “I was just at the old Scribe building, heading home for the night when I heard the noises outside the cemetery.”
“Stars, I hope so,” Morgan sighed. She didn’t feel like she had done much. She had hoped to at least talk to someone else like her for a little longer, to ask what she really needed to get by for longer than a day or two. Who did she have? How had she starved so badly? All she had to go on was one torn up hiking vest and a name. She pushed the thought of Ashley to the back of her mind. Maybe she could put out a call online or ask the ghosts in the cemetery to keep an eye out, just in case she turned up here again or...something. But for now she was as good as lost.
Morgan exhaled. Without the need for air, her body retained most of its tension from the past hour until she worked consciously at it, slumping and rolling her neck and shoulders and arms. “You helped too, Rio. I wouldn’t have been able to manage her by myself. Come on,” she urged gently. She held out an arm, beckoning him close, imagining a one armed hug to calm his nerves. Then she saw the blood on her hands and thought better on it. She let it fall limp at her side and wiped it down on her skirt. “I appreciate that you tried. That counts for something. Let’s get you home, okay?”
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