#factory gate woods

[itstimeforstarwars]

I think my dream job would be buying fabric and sewing supplies for a small business or like a quilt charity I love buying fabric and notions so so much but the older I get the less I care to do like. Any sewing.

[dhl-au]

Master-post:

Main blog: @ark-fork Support me: [🔥Boosty] - requests ✅

This post is too big, so, just press <keep reading> button and enjoy! Old tags: The horror circus au, thc au

The Amusement park

Tutorial area: [Unlocked] The park [The park is full of attractions, abandoned a long time ago.] [The danger inside - Mannequins that can move if the lights are off. Happily that there's always bright.] The Circus tent [A dark circus tent that has no bright light inside.] [The danger inside - two clown puppets whom a tutorial encounters that Pomni uses to teach the player how to fight. A dark maze where Pomni plays hide and seek (under the tent)] Boss: Pomni [immortal]

Side chapter: The attractions area [there are many attractions, all of which are broken and not working, where you can see a lot of old mannequins.] [The danger inside - Mannequins, light cut off] The carousel [12 horses, mainly unicorns, pegasus, and common horses.] [The danger - these encounters can move and try to kill you if you come too close.] Boss: [̵͎̜͕̊ͅḐ̸̧̞̦̯͐Ĕ̷̪̘̑L̷̮̭͇̮̏̑̓̓ͅÊ̴̺͊͗̊͝ͅT̵̖̭͙̜͗͐́̕Ę̸̛͙͎͌̏͌͜D̴̢̨̢̬̚]̵̝̈́̉̀̕

Greek drama comedy pantheon

Chapter 1: [Unlocked] The pantheon [The giant ancient Greek pantheon that is based on Greek attributes like mazes with common myth encounters, traps, and puzzles.] [The danger inside - Minotaur, soldiers, dark in location] The Amphitheater [A large arena with a stage where operas were. Mostly destroyed.] [The danger inside - traps, gladiators, common myth encounters] Boss: Gangle

Dollhouse

Chapter 2: [Locked] The garden [The big garden with a dollhouse in the center, abandoned and broken giant villa with three floors. The garden is desolated and filled with dangerous encounters.] [The danger inside - Dolls, spiders.] The house [Giant villa, abandoned, broken, made in dark-colored wood and stone. ] [The danger inside - Dolls, bugs, traps, old floors.] Boss: Ragatha

Playground Meat Factory

Chapter 3: [Locked] The Factory [An abandoned meat factory for a long time, but with the mechanisms still working. There are many gigantic rooms here, which have complex mechanisms] [The danger inside - traps, puzzles, encounters "workers" and mechanisms] Boss: Zooble

Wonderland Nightmare-land

Chapter 4: [Locked] The forest [Huge forest full of mushroom trees, trees. Some of it can remind of human silhouettes.] [The danger inside Wild creatures (animals mostly), Card guards, flowers with faces, living trees.] Mini-boss: Cheshire cat The Madman's house [A small house in the shape of a hat is unremarkable at first glance. However, the inside of it is much larger and consists of long corridors with many doors. The location is full of scratches of nails, broken portraits, and furniture.] [The danger inside - Jax] Boss: Jax

Chess castle

Chapter 5: [Locked] The chess desk [A giant chessboard inside a majestic castle divided in half by two colors - old, slightly faded platinum and dark copper. There is weak lighting around the field from torches attached to holders.] [The danger inside - the chess. The Pale King] Boss: Kinger

[Locations gates] [The gate is giant and looks heavy because of the forged steel. Each gate has its unique tag belonging to one or another boss of the location behind these gates.] [Five gates in summary]

COMICS:

[redacted]

MASTER POST REF SHEETS:

Pre horror: [dont turm on the light!]

Game stuff: [cover]; [chapters menu]; [...] About: [DLC?]; [non canon DLC]; [winter DLC]; [...]

[Jax]

[Kinger]

[Queenie]

Post horror:

Size line: [additional]

3 | 6 Main Bosses

[abandonedography]

The mausoleum is hidden in the woods off a seasonal road not far from Beardslee Castle and "Beardslee Falls" in the East Canada Creek. It was built by Augustus Beardslee and stands on private land. The crypt and nearby area is rumored to be haunted. Unfortunately, many years ago the mausoleum was vandalized and some of the bodies inside were desecrated. The metal gates are gone and all that remains now is the stone structure. The contents were moved to a cemetery somewhere in the nearby City of Little Falls as far as I understand. It does not seem to be maintained in any way.

It is also one of the few remaining makers for a community that once existed in this area called "Beardslee's Mills" or "Beardslee's City."

From The Evening Telegram; Local, Saturday, September 2, 2000:

"It represents a bygone era when the Beardslee family lived on East Creek in Manheim and helped bring prosperity to the area. John Beardslee was the pioneer of the family to first settle East Creek. Born in 1759 in Sharon, Conn., he moved to the Mohawk Valley where he undertook many building projects including mills in the Utica-Whitestown area and a number of bridges in the Little Falls and Fort Plain area. He liked the area and in 1794 purchased a 100-acre tract on which he built a home and mills along the creek in the town of Manheim. A settlement grew up around his home called Beardslee's Mills or Beardslee's City. By 1800, the town consisted of two stores, two taverns, a blacksmith shop, nail factory, cooperage, a brewery, a sawmill and grist mill. When the Mohawk Turnpike and the Erie Canal came along, trade began to dwindle because of the lack of proximity to the two main thoroughfares and the village slowly declined. All that remains today is the old cemetery located near the Beardslee Mausoleum, hidden from view in the woods."

(source)

[bettyfrommars]

The Nightmare Factory: Origins

nightmare!eddie x Reader

Masterlist

a little peek into how Eddie got the job

Sigh, yet another blurb that turned into 2k. There is mention of Reader in this, but no actual interaction. We get to meet the notorious Kevin and get a glimpse at the inside of the building where nightmare!eddie works, as well as run into a few of his future co-workers. I love those of you who have shown interest in this; let me know if there are certain things/events you'd like to see. wc: 2.2k

18+ONLY, mature themes, horror, nothing bad happens but there will be mention of gore and scary things. Nightmare!eddie, Gareth, a ventriloquist doll, liminal spaces, mention of spiders and creepy dolls. A severed foot. I write these like a fever dream and then post them, so I hope it makes a decent amount of sense.

---------

When Wayne told Eddie that there were positions open at the Nightmare Factory, it just so happened that he was tired of slaving over a grill every day and ready for something new.  But he wasn't interested in working at a desk or on the janitorial team—he wanted to travel and scare the shit out of a few people.

From the trailer park, he could see the tall stacks in the distance, jutting up into the sky, pumping out industrial black smoke from somewhere inside the factory. He never realized how much elbow grease went into producing nightmares.  

The Nightmare Factory had not always been there.  One day, it just appeared, as it was prone to do in various locations all over the world.  Months ago, he was having a smoke out behind the diner where he worked the kitchen, when a creepy doll head fell from the sky and bounced to the ground.  It rolled to the edge of the nearby dumpster and wedged there.

He yelled for Gareth to come out so he could tell him what just happened.

“It’s raining heads,” Eddie blew a raspberry laugh after he said it, and the two of them bent to get a closer look.

The plastic doll head had long, patchy, auburn hair that fell over its face, and it was missing a glass eyeball.  Eddie picked it up and stood to full height, turning it around to give it a look.  A thick, slimy centipede slithered out of the empty eye socket and crawled over Eddie’s finger, making him yelp and throw the thing.

He shook his hand out, making sure the centipede was not still on him.  Not too far away on the pavement, the head now looked molded and rotten, as if it had been made of living tissue.

“It’s that fucking Nightmare Factory, I’m telling you,” Gareth insisted, wiping his hands on his apron. “It just showed up a couple days ago, and yesterday I saw a frog walking on its hind legs with a mouth full of vampire teeth.”

Eddie licked his lips, thoughtfully.  

Soon enough, he was driving to the factory in question with his resume next to him in the seat, wearing the nicest shirt and pair of jeans he owned, and he even had his hair tied back—at Wayne’s urging.  “You’re not a drug dealer anymore, son, you need to look presentable.”

Upon arrival, an ornate, iron gate opened at the entrance, and he followed in what appeared to have once been a car.  The metal was dented all over like a piece of balled-up paper, and the blue paint chipped in areas to expose the dull yellow underneath.  The passenger window was nothing but saran wrap secured with duct tape, and there were a few aluminum cans tied to the bumper with string.  The cans were pock-marked and rusted, and the vehicle drove at a tilt as if the tires on one side were too small. 

On the back window, there was white writing, scrawled as if with a non-dominant hand.  Eddie squinted at the lettering, saying it out loud as he read: JUST DEAD.

He parked the van in front of one of the visitor placards right next to a wood-paneled station wagon.

On the outside, the factory looked like an old, abandoned steel mill you might see from the freeway as you passed, but inside—it offered the aesthetic of a pristine, marble floor museum.  A museum without any artifacts or art—just bare, cream walls, one long hallway of doors, low, fluorescent lighting, a reception desk, and a pair of mysterious double doors to the right.

Eddie’s footsteps echoed in the empty hall as he made his way over to the reception desk.

The secretary was bent over behind the desk, possibly jotting down a note, when Eddie cleared his throat to get her attention.  She had on a light blue, pillbox hat from the 60’s with a matching suit, and wore her hair in a short, platinum blonde bob.  

When she looked up at him, he realized her face was made of fiberglass—her pink lips and wide, a tiny, sharp nose, and blue eyes frozen in time.  There was a lightning-shaped crack down her cheek that feathered out down her neck, and he realized then, with one glance down at her stiff hands, that she was a broken mannequin.

“Do you have an appointment?” She asked without moving her mouth; lips slightly parted and turned up at one corner.

“Um, yeah, no,” Eddie stammered, taken aback when a few small spiders crawled out of the crack on her face.  “I’m here about the job opening.”

“Ah, well then you’ll need to meet with Kevin,” she confirmed, running her beige, plastic hand down some scribbles on a big appointment book.  “He is the only door on the 3rd floor.  I’ll let him know you are on your way.”

“Oh great, thanks,” Eddie moved his hand to flash her the devil horns, but then he realized that might not be appropriate, faltered a bit, and then chose a thumbs up instead.  “I like that color blue on you, it matches your eyes.”

The receptionist couldn’t blush, but she did give a high-pitched giggle at the compliment.  

There were two sets of elevator doors, and while he waited in front of one for it to open, the one next to it dinged, and a group of tall, thin men in black coats with no faces and hooks for hands stepped out. They seemed to glide on the air more than walk, and he wondered if they had any feet.  One gave a wave of his hook to Eddie and mumbled, “morning,” as they moved to enter one of the doors across the way.  

The hallway to Kevin’s office had a clear, aquarium floor with colorful fish fluttering around in Eddie’s path, and he stopped to admire them for a minute as a smile stretched around his face.  There was mellow jazz playing from a speaker somewhere overhead it reminded him of the waiting room at the dentist office. It wasn’t long before a severed foot that looked like it had been sawed or bitten off at the ankle floated through the aquarium beneath him, and Eddie’s smile dropped.  The toe was nearly bitten off by little fish nibbles.  

“This fucking place,” he whispered to himself, one fist in the pocket of his leather jacket, as he took note of the portrait painting on the wall from the early 1900’s of a woman in a dress sitting in a chair, and it looked like her eyes had been cut out, offering two perfect ovals for another pair of eyes to peep out.  

The door to Kevin’s office was open, so Eddie rapped his knuckle on the wall and stuck his head in. “Hello? Kevin? I’m here about the job?”

When he didn’t get a response, he pushed in a bit further, with caution.

The inside looked like the library of some distinguished gentleman; a big oak desk backed by floor to ceiling rows of books; a globe on a brass stand; oil paintings with ornate frames; a cigar smoldering in a glass ashtray near the cream-colored phone with the blinking red light on it.  

Eddie made one last attempt: “Hello?”

“I’m right here, you knob,” a tiny, irritated voice said.

Eddie turned to follow the sound, and the chair behind the desk spun around to reveal what appeared to be a ventriloquist doll in a blue and white sailor suit, sitting atop a few thick encyclopedias so that he could reach the top of the desk.  It had a big, abnormal grin on its face that hinged at the chin, and eyebrows too high on the head, as if he were eternally shocked, framed in a swirl of brown, plastic hair.  

“That's me. I am Kevin. Go ahead, sit,” the doll extended his arm, motioning to one of the two chairs in front of his desk.  They were both small, plastic chairs meant for children, and Eddie eyed them with trepidation.  Before he could sit, he had to move a thick book titled “Ruling the World for Dummies” and set it on the desk.  His hips barely fit as he shoved down into the seat, angling his head all the way back to look up at Kevin.

He slid his resume forward on the wood as if he were a middle school kid handing in his homework.

Kevin hopped from the stack of books onto the desk in his shiny black shoes and looked over the piece of paper—his featureless fingers flexing.

“A mechanic and a line cook,” Kevin’s eyes clicked as he looked at the typed out words, and then found Eddie’s eager gaze over the top of the page.  “So, no nightmare experience?”

Eddie’s brain scurried for the correct answer. “Well, not professionally, no. But I’m a quick study, and my life is kind of one big nightmare, if you know what I mean,” he rubbed his sweaty palms up and down on the knees of his jeans while Kevin returned a blank—albeit perpetually alarmed—expression.  

“Can you work weekends?”

“Yes.”

“Evenings?”

“Sure. Well, except some Fridays and Tuesdays.  My band, we—” 

“What about portals? Do you experience motion sickness during interdimensional travel?” Kevin interrupted.

“I don’t think so, but I’m not sure.” Eddie moved his eyes around the room, keeping his head still.  

“Are you willing to sign an NDA in regards to this facility, and any activities that take place herein?”

Eddie considered that for a second, wondering how strictly they enforced the non-disclosure agreement.  At the end of the day, he really didn’t talk to many people, but it was hard for him to keep his mouth shut around those he did interact with.

“Sure,” Eddie shrugged.

“Great. Swell.” Kevin dropped the resume, letting it slip off the desk and flutter to the ground without a second thought. He bent down to pick up the cigar that was still smoldering and stuffed the fat end in between his grinning lips.  The smoke he inhaled came out his ears.  “You’re hired.  Benefits start after 30 days. Come back tomorrow around the same time and someone will give you a tour and set you up with a locker.”

Eddie moved to stand up and thank him, but his ass was stuck in the chair, so he sat back down for the time being.

“Do you know what type of nightmares you want to specialize in?” Kevin asked.

Eddie hadn’t considered any of that.  “Um, what are my options?”

Kevin rolled his eyes and put his cigar back down.  “Do you even have any idea what we do here?”

“I’ll be honest, man,” Eddie raised an eyebrow, offering a bit of a smirk. “I'm just looking for a paycheck. But I’m a hard worker, I’ll take anything you throw at me.”

What Kevin didn’t tell him was that Eddie was the only applicant they’d had all week.  Work conditions were rather dismal at the factory as of late, and the turn-over rate was astronomical; there were Nightmare Scholars with several degrees still slumming it as closet monsters and ghosts that tapped on windows pretending to be a branch.

But, Eddie was fine with it.  He wasn’t interested in a career in nightmares—his music was all that mattered to him back then.

Back before your nightmares were all he cared about.  

“At the end of the hall on the first floor, there’s a bulletin board with the positions that are available.  You’ll need to pick one, and then Walter will get you enrolled in whatever classes you need.”

“Walter?” Eddie asked, looking around, as if the Walter in question might appear at any second from out of the bookshelf.  

“You’ll meet him tomorrow,” Kevin’s head turned to the side, but his body stayed facing forward.  “He’s a swamp monster; big guy.  He’s in charge of all the new trainees. Man’s got a particular foul odor about him, but damn his wife is a great cook.”

Eddie’s wallet chain clinked against the plastic chair as he forced it off his hips like popping out a cork, and he thanked Kevin with a wave.  

Little did he know then what a pain in his ass Kevin would be.

Little did he know that, some 2 years later, he’d be so dedicated to the work that they’d be offering him a promotion.  

They offered to put him in a training position, or behind a desk sorting dream journal entries, but he had no interest in such things.  They could keep their promotions.

He needed to stay on the ground, in the trenches.

Until he could find a way out of your dreams and into your arms.   --------

-------

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This is interesting. It's The Earthquake House, a 1990 earthquake-safe construction via revolutionary, (at the time), technology that makes it resistant to seismic tremors. It's a landmark in Los Angeles, California. Looks like a factory, doesn't it? 3bds, 3.5ba, $2.8M.

The floor plan is easy to adapt to multiple uses, and can be a home/business, or just a business and even a restaurant. It was architect, artist & educator David Ming Li Lowe's own home.

Note the springs so it can absorb impact. I bet those cement stairs would crack during a strong quake, though.

Closeup of the springs. Looks like the cement has cracked already.

Here's the living room when it was featured in a magazine article.

The house is empty, so it's hard to figure out, but here's a door that looks like it's an entrance by the garage.

You can see the steel going to the corners of the wall. I wonder why he used glass, though. Maybe it's shatterproof.

He used a lot of steel. Look at the rods in the wood beamed ceiling.

Industrial style kitchen.

This looks like a primary bedroom.

Most of the rooms look alike with the yellow crisscross support beams on every wall.

One of the baths.

This looks like another bedroom and bath. Look at the flexible hose attached to the sink. There must be a reason for the deep pitches in the ceilings.

It was part workspace and part residence, so this looks like it may have been the office space.

Unless it's a bedroom, b/c it has a laundry closet.

Looking down from the top floor. It's 3 levels high.

This bath has some nice built-in cabinetry. Now, this sink has a regular pipe coming down, not a flexible hose. Are those light bulbs coming out of the ceiling?

I think that this is an entrance gate to the driveway and garage.

2 car garage has an industrial door.

This just looks like a little, non-earthquake-proof covered patio in the yard.

[bestfictionalplant]

Bracket reveal

Text version under cut!

The tourney is split into 4 32 brackets, and the winners of each will go to the semi finals! I'll make a different post about HOW the tourney will run, and this will serve as a pinned post for round 1 :)

Bracket 1, Side 1

Peppino (Vampire Survivors) vs Winged Strawberry (Celeste)

Herb (Monster Hunter) vs Triffids (Day of the Triffids)

Gigi (Xiaolin Showdown) vs Silent Princess (The Legend of Zelda)

Breath of Evil (Wings of Fire) vs Thorn Thallid (Magic the Gathering)

Audrey II (Little Shop of Horrors) vs Farewell Flower (Mistborn)

Togemon (Digimon) vs Silverwood Tree (Witch Hat Atelier)

Golden Apple Tree (Greek Mythology) vs Potbelly (My Singing Monsters)

Sculk (Minecraft) vs MocDonald (One Piece)

Bracket 1, Side 2

Vida (The Promised Neverland) vs Glaze Lily (Genshin Impact)

Dr Brewer's Clone (Goosebumps) vs The Spring (Friends at the Table)

Kite Eating Tree (Peanuts) vs Zotoh Zhaan (Farscape)

Wheel Tree (His Dark Materials) vs Mushtree (I Was a Teenage Exocolonist)

Medusoid Mycelium (A Series of Unfortunate Events) vs Radial (Ooblets)

Chikorita (Pokemon) vs Blast Cone (League of Legends)

Gooloog (AAAHH!!! Real Monsters) vs Venus (Bug Fables)

The Thorian (Mass Effect) vs Yggdrasil (Norse Mythology)

Bracket 2, Side 1

Deku Tree (The Legend of Zelda) vs Blood Blossoms (Danny Phantom)

Hotblonde37159 (Angel: The Series) vs Vash the Stampede (Trigun)

Kinoko (Don't Hurt Me, My Healer) vs Wolfsbane (The Vampire Diaries)

Plant (Monster Rancher) vs Flower of Life (Mesopotamian Mythology)

Truffula Tree (The Lorax) vs Slurperon Enchantress (Internet Scam)

The Brain Tree (Neopets) vs Ginseng Baby (Scarlet Hollow)

Chompy (Bug Fables) vs Whispy Woods (Kirby)

Clavu (Overlord) vs Ivern (League of Legends)

Bracket 2, Side 2

Bulbasaur (Pokemon) vs The Trees of Valinor (Lord of the Rings)

Leslie (The Amazing World of Gumball) vs Hayzee Dayzee (Paper Mario)

Piranha Plant (Mario) vs Specimen 34/The Blessed Eternal (Wolf 359)

Potted Plant (Wander Over Yonder) vs Morbuzakh (Bionicle)

Jabe & the Trees of Cheem (Doctor Who) vs Black Mercy (DC)

Mr Plant (The World of Mr Plant) vs Feculant Gnarlmaw (Warhammer 40k)

Tree Rex (Skylanders) vs Flowey (Undertale)

Sundrop Flower (Tangled) vs Venus McFlytrap (Monster High)

Bracket 3, Side 1

Pinchley (Long Gone Gulch) vs Frank the Plant (Harley Quinn: the Animated Series)

The Venus (Hello From the Hallowoods) vs Nirnroot (The Elder Scrolls)

Food Fight (Skylanders) vs Paopu Fruit (Kingdom Hearts)

Phillogenous esk Piemondum (Rod Albright Alien Adventures) vs Plant (Wall E)

Tannot Root (Farscape) vs The Broccoloids (The Powerpuff Girls)

Rockbud (The Stormlight Archive) vs Sylvan Hound (Guild Wars 2)

Eldridge Johnson-Mayer (The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy) vs Hyacinth/Hyacinthus (Greek Mythology)

Selas Flower (Kingkiller Chronicle) vs Treant (Disgaea)

Bracket 3, Side 2

Dragonflame Cacti (Wings of Fire) vs Sunflower (Plants vs Zombies)

The Bioplant (The Rising of the Shield Hero) vs Turnip Boy (Turnip Boy Commits Tax Evasion)

Shambling Mound (Dungeons and Dragons) vs Mandrake (Shin Megami Tensei/Persona)

Cowplant (The Sims) vs Ebony Queen's Apple (Limbus Company)

Devil Fruits (One Piece) vs Donkey-Cabbage (Enchanted Forest Chronicles)

Oaktopus (My Singing Monsters) vs Field Dungeon (Rune Factory 4)

Mushroom Tree (Stardew Valley) vs Jumpkin (Cassette Beasts)

Undergrowth (Danny Phantom) vs Karzahni (Bionicle)

Bracket 4, Side 1

Dreamstalk (Kirby) vs Myconid (Balders Gate 3)

Stingbulb (Fablehaven) vs Treebeard (Lord of the Rings)

Stray Cat (Jojo's Bizarre Adventure) vs Peashooter (Plants vs Zombies)

Giant Turnip (Codename: Kids Next Door) vs Treasure Mushroom (Guild Wars 2)

Tree of Wisdom (Sonic the Hedgehog) vs Fire Flower (Mario)

Stump (The Angry Beavers) vs Groot (Marvel)

Maise (Oneshot) vs Konohana Tree (Okami)

Red Weed (War of the Worlds) vs Pod Plant (Fortnite)

Bracket 4, Side 2

Plantera (Terraria) vs The Grass Snake (Friends at the Table)

Breathweed (Warhammer 40k) vs Campestri (Dungeons and Dragons)

Neo Alraune (Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle) vs Kringlefucker (Homestuck)

Slimefoot the Stowaway (Magic: The Gathering) vs Gatfruit Tree (Space Station 13/14)

Sex Pollen Plant (Fanfiction) vs The Rumor Weed (VeggieTales: Larry-Boy and the Rumor Weed)

Dr Madley Radish (Papa Louie) vs Vervain (The Vampire Diaries)

Yatevon (OCTAHEDRON: Transfixed Edition) vs Echo Flower (Undertale)

Wither Rose (Minecraft) vs Hydramon (Digimon)

[obscurecurse]

my favorite thing about KPTS fic is the prevalence of unnamed warehouses lmfao. i have done it too. MULTIPLE TIMES. but truly...

what the fuck is in there? shipping containers. shelves. machinery. crates. rust. dust.

un-knowable.

like yes - you got the architect-author who gets picky about descriptions of place and materiality on the case

buuuUUUUuuUUUuut

i will throw out some warehouse concepts for your repertoire: hastily duct-taped polycarbonate windows. metal mesh security screens - wait, what was even stored in this massive cage? loading docks and dumpsters are often located together. a tangle of mechanical ductwork hanging from the exposed steel structure. slowly rotating industrial fan blades whooshing lazily. barbed wire framing a chain link gate. Authorized Personnel Only sign. Low Clearance sign. the pull-in-case-of-emergency lever. does the emergency system still work? do the lights flicker? are you surprised it's still hooked up to the power grid? what color is the water that comes out of the taps? you try to turn the door handle and the handle pops off.

if it's an old warehouse, is it Rusted? Weathered? Is the paint faded? Chipping? Blistering? Sun-bleached? Does it smell like machine oil? Like wood? Like chemicals? Does the breeze from the nearby river drift in through the broken windows - and the air is surprisingly fresh? Does it smell like decaying wood? Like garbage? Like blood?

Has it been 30 years since someone swept the cracked concrete? When you trip and fall are you covered in the dust of time - years of pollen and wood splinters and flaking paint?

it often works, narratively, to not describe these things too much. because most people who are in a warehouse in some crime-related situation are not going to, for example, search the nearest pallet and check the contents. like, Chay is not going to mentally process the industrial nuances of his kidnapping (lmfao) [unless he's been stuck in this room for a long time and now very, very bored.]

(but honestly Kim might. Porsche might. those two are detail-oriented, though, in completely different ways. porsche is always trying to get the upper hand/get himself out of situations. kim needs all the answers on some 5D chess shit. You never know what might be a lead.)

but if it ever comes down to it again i'm going to describe the fucking industry. maybe there's faded lettering painted on the outside of the warehouse which describes that it is a logistics company. they ship things. maybe it is a glass manufacturer and they are boxing windows. garments. ceramics. electronics. DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY THINGS ARE MADE AND SHIPPED OUT OF THAILAND?

i know KPTS is some richboy mafia shit... but gangs, organized crime - they are often borne of the working class and thus entwined with working class industries. i do not reason the theerapanyakuls tango exclusively with other richboy mafia. somewhere along the line it's the working class and a fucking array of industries.

maybe that industry is a cover for something? or maybe they just broke in to this abandoned place and there is no connection at all? maybe there is evidence of a previous usage? was this once an auto-factory with car-sized elevators that's been retrofitted into an industrial-scale bakery?

you can continue to gloss over whatever the fuck is going on in this warehouse beyond a single kidnapping, a single deal. you have my blessing. i have not always given ~the bad guys~ much of an identity. but just a sentence or two identifying the industry these thugs come from can actually really shape your plot in interesting ways. it is like a freebie. you can make the crime sequences so much more dynamic:

suppose its a pillow factory and then there's a shootout and when the machine gun rounds run a line through that giant cardboard box over there, feathers explode out of it and now everyone is inhaling bits of down and coughing. and now you found the last guy that was hiding behind a shipping container because he couldn't stop choking on goose feathers.

(DOWN GETS FUCKING EVERYWHERE.)

the point of this post is to help you workshop your CONTEXT - not to shit on the vague warehouse full of unidentified bad guys. sometimes it is just not necessary to the plot to describe these things

gonna end it like a work email.

hope this helps

[whisperthatruns]

Gate

Do you love words as a shy magician loves the moment of quiet after he’s left the stage, alone in a dressing room where a yellow candle burns with its greasy, pitch-black flame? What yearning will encourage you to push the heavy gate, to sense once more the odor of that wood and the rusty taste of water from an ancient well, to see again the tall pear tree, the proud matron who presented us aristocratically with its perfectly formed fruit each fall, and then fell into mute anticipation of the winter’s ills? Next door a factory’s stolid chimney smoked and the ugly town kept still, but the indefatigable earth worked on beneath the bricks in gardens, our black memory and the vast pantry of the dead, the good earth. What courage does it take to budge the heavy gate, what courage to catch sight of us again, gathered in the little room beneath a Gothic lamp – mother skims the paper, moths bump the windowpanes, nothing happens, nothing, only evening, prayer; we wait . . . We lived only once.

Adam Zagajewski, tr. Clare Cavanagh (text found here)

[antaxzantax]

Umbrella Pharmaceuticals - Chapter 58

Summary:

Alfred Ashford and Auguste Campbell continue in the abandoned factory. Confrontation between Alexia Ashford and William Birkin.

1

Neglect had cracked the walls and soiled the floors to the point of merging the dust with the mould that seeped through the dampness of the ceiling. A horror vacui of graffiti covered the frame of the building and much of its skeleton.

Alfred unlocked a rusty gate to access the lower floor of what was once a factory for the production of glyphosates. He climbed down metal stairs to a catwalk that led to one of the synthesis chambers. There he built his temple to Leviathan, where Auguste and Peter awaited him.

At the temple to Leviathan, he was greeted by an intense stench of disinfectant that clogged his nostrils. Auguste was waiting for him seated in one of the two armchairs placed at the end of the room to contemplate the spectacle offered by Peter. Peter was lying on the floor between the two pools of corpses.

Alfred did not announce his return, but directly sat down on the free armchair and lit up a cigarette, refusing the joint Auguste offered him.

Peter got up from the floor.

A sacrifice was being tossed around inside a burlap sack hanging from the ceiling.

Auguste leaned back in his seat. Alfred poured himself a glass of wine.

The god of Flesh was thirsty for blood.

2

“Ben Bertolucci.”

“What?”

“Ben Bertolucci!”

The receptionist wrote his name on a piece of paper. Ben showed her his credentials as a freelance journalist.

“What are you doing here? Are you here to sell an exclusive?” The secretary stapled together a document, ignoring Ben.

“I'm on my way to get that exclusive. Could I speak to the editor-in-chief?”

The secretary turned in her chair and dialled an internal number. She spoke loudly to her interlocutor and then hung up.

“First floor on the right. Hurry up.”

“Thank you.”

Ben slung his rucksack over his shoulder and trotted to the first floor. M. Wood. Editor-in-chief of the Raccoon Times. He knocked on the door.

“Hello? I'm Ben Bertolucci.”

“Come in!”

“Ben stepped into the disorganised office. The editor-in-chief greeted him with a cup of coffee in one hand and a freshly baked newspaper in the other.”

“What do you want from us, Mr. Bertolucci?”

“An exclusive: the mysterious disappearances taking place in the slums of Raccoon City.”

“Do you really consider it an exclusive?”

“Yes, and for a very simple reason: there is a pattern. A perfectly clear pattern. There have been a total of 10 disappearances. All 10 disappearances share the same homeless men from the same slums, and they all have a family member who is a university student, specifically a family member who is studying at Raccoon City University.”

The editor-in-chief took off her newspaper and coffee cup to light up a cigarette.

“You mean a serial killer?”

“No. Not at all! It is something else. A very powerful thing. Before coming here I did a little preliminary research. It turns out that the university relatives of the 10 deceased agree that they met a blond man and a red-haired man in the days before their relatives disappeared. The blond man introduced himself as a doctoral student studying poverty and lifestyle in industrialised Midwestern cities. How about that?”

“So what?”

“A high-impact story about a disappearance plot involving Raccoon City University and a couple of suspects?”

The editor-in-chief raised her eyebrows.

“Do what you want. But we will review the material before publication. We have a good relationship with the university and we are a very small newspaper. Don't screw it up.”

“Of course I won't screw it up. Trust me!”

“Go away.”

Ben Bertolucci left the newsroom with the promise of future high-impact reporting.

3

Alfred brought a typewriter with him to the factory. His slip-up with the police and the subsequent conversation with his sister and father had inspired him to change his perspective on the development of his doctoral thesis. He did not want it to be a standard academic analysis, but a more personal and original work.

The subject of the thesis was the socio-political transition that took place in Northern England between the end of feudalism and the beginning of capitalism, and according to the thesis of biopower proposed by Michel Foucault. A theme that fitted in perfectly with what he was doing in the factory. A question of biopower, that was the god of Flesh; of control of bodies and their wills.

On the other hand, he stopped taking drugs. Apart from the risk, the new perspective deserved the full attention of his senses, as he devoted himself to narrating the emotions and feelings he experienced during the rituals and then relating them to the rest of the study. He did not think that this particular part would make it into the final version, but he could reuse it to publish a self-illustrated novel or as part of a larger independent research project.

In conclusion, it had been proposed to complete the PhD by the end of next year. For this reason, the number of total sacrifices was agreed at 15.

15 and end.

4

Annette made her way to the changing room to get out of her uniform and change into nice, comfortable clothes. She would meet William outside the building to drive home. It was two o'clock in the morning.

Her salary had been raised. She as a lab technician and William as chief researcher. Without warning or explanation, it had simply happened. They were also paid double overtime. In this way, they had promised to pay the last installments on the car and part of the mortgage, although they had both increased their bank credit by enrolling Sherry in the best private school in the county. But their financial affairs didn't worry them. Their biggest source of stress came from Alexia Ashford.

William was back on his antidepressants. Annette tried to talk him out of starting the medication again, but William gave in to temptation and popped the prescribed pills for a full day. Alexia had beaten him at his own work and under his own nose. William had failed; he was a failure and he couldn't stand himself.

Apathy settled back into the Birkin household, and it was becoming unbearable. When the incident in the laboratory occurred, she fought for William because she really loved him. They met by chance at Arklay and she decided to stay by his side because she believed in his ambition and good character. It was also a radical departure from her previous partners and a chance to redirect her own aspirations. She was never attracted to the life of a housewife with a dog and child, so she chose to fulfil her own American dream by pursuing a career in biochemistry, a career she studied hard for after abandoning her vocation for philology.

Sherry's birth was unexpected, but they had no regrets. On the contrary, William proved to be quite a competent father despite his social awkwardness and workaholism. But despite the difficulties, they managed to build a happy little family, or so they thought. Be that as it may, the incident with Alexia threw everything into disarray. Annette fought for William in the hospital and during his convalescence. She fought for him in his worst moments and until he himself bounced back. She hated Alexia for what happened, but she had to swallow her pride when William made it clear that he would not leave Umbrella.

William returned to Umbrella, and now they were worse off than before. In her rare moments alone, Annette pondered the possibility of divorce. She loved William, but his behaviour was beginning to be excessively erratic, and she feared for Sherry and for her own life. If William didn't realise the damage he was doing, Annette would have to take steps of her own; even if it was a separation without divorce.

Annette entered the changing room.

“How long are we going to be locked up here? It's like a prison.”

A shower tap turned on. Annette did not recognise the voice, but it seemed to belong to a very young woman of British origin. Annette quietly approached the shower space. Hidden behind the corner of the wall, Annette spotted two naked women. Alexia and a stranger. The stranger was leaning against the wall opposite Alexia, who was washing her hair without paying much attention to the other woman.

“It's your fault. Couldn't you behave like a normal fucking person for a couple of hours?! Because of you my father is going to be lynched!”

The unknown woman was arguing with Alexia, but the latter seemed more focused on taking a shower.

“What now? Are we going to live here forever? I slept terribly tonight. Those weren't mattresses, they were mats. I want to go home. To my bedroom. I want to get my life together. I need to talk to my boyfriend.”

“Talk to him.”

“Oh, right. I'll tell Daniel that I'm locked up in a fucking clandestine lab because my dear cousin Alexia came up with the brilliant idea of bumping off the asshole who harassed her during the party I threw with my father's friends' kids. Great! Amazing story!”

Alexia turned off the tap. Annette hid in one of the cubicles.

“Ogie is also busy.”

“Ogie is an asshole. If they put him in jail with Alf for what he's doing at the factory, he deserves it. But I don't deserve to go to jail. I didn't do anything! Do you hear me, Alexia?! I didn't do anything wrong! You're the bad guy! You're the one who killed John!”

“Perhaps.”

“Perhaps? Perhaps?! My God, there are stones with more sensitivity than you. Why the hell are you like that?!”

“Because I'm a crazy punk.”

“Alexia, don't start. Just because your childhood sucked doesn't excuse you killing John.”

Silence.

“No,” said Alexia.

“Alexia... Seriously, it doesn't make sense. It's absurd, and you've never been stupid.”

“I don't want to talk about this any more.”

“Why, are you going to isolate yourself in your room and ignore everyone like you always do? Is that how a genius like you solves problems?”

Annette nearly had a heart attack with the tremendous punch Alexia threw at the locker.

“You don't scare me at all, Alexia,” said the unknown woman. “You're angry because you hate the world you live in and you hate yourself, and the hatred you feel is eating you up inside. That's why you're bitching at that employee, Birkin, because you want to destroy him. Because you want to destroy everything!!!!” The unknown woman slapped Alexia's face. “Stop victimising yourself and react!”

Alexia and the unknown woman left the changing room shortly afterwards. Annette emerged from the cubicle, her nerves raw. She hurriedly got dressed and ran to the entrance to tell William what she had heard.

5

“William, please don't go!” Annette pleaded.

William went to the laboratory's secretariat.

“Where is Alexia?!”

The secretary was reluctant to respond.

“Call her, damn it!”

The clerk called Alexia Ashford's office.

“William Birkin wants to speak to you. I understand. She is in her office.”

William ran to the office. He knocked on the door three times and went through.

Nobody was there.

The door closed behind him and someone bolted it.

Alexia faced him. William was hyperventilating. She pushed a strand of hair out of her face. He gritted his teeth with all his might.

“I killed a man,” said Alexia.

William swallowed hard.

“Electrocution. He had a cardiac arrest. I felt no regret.”

Alexia made her way to her desk, where she sat down, leaning on the edge of the table.

“If you had killed me that time, would you have regretted it?” she continued.

William did not move from his spot, focused as he was on Alexia's speech.

“What the hell do you want from me?” William asked, his jaw aching.

“Your first reaction to the loss was attempted murder.”

“Because I was furious! Who the fuck do you think you are!”

“My reaction to the loss was similar.”

William hesitated.

“I saw myself reflected in your anger. Strange.”

“What?”

“My father wanted to fire you and ruin your life. I interceded on your behalf and proposed your promotion to chief researcher. I want us to work together.”

William put his hands to his head, completely confused.

“Wait, wait. Start from the beginning. You destroyed my virus and now you want to work together, and after what happened? Are you crazy?”

“Would you have regretted it?”

William smiled.

“I would have regretted ending up in jail... but not your death. Fuck.” William had definitely earned his dismissal.

“Would you try again?”

William relaxed his hands so as not to succumb to temptation. He did not answer. Alexia smiled subtly. A gloomy silence hung between the two of them. William thought for a split second about both possibilities, what if he killed her, while another voice inside reminded him of Annette's and Sherry's names.

“What do you want from me?”

Alexia walked around the table and sat down in the armchair.

“We will meet again at 17:00, or 5 p.m.”

William unlocked the door and walked out of the office. That she had seen herself reflected in him. Was she testing him? And why was she testing him by destroying the G-virus? What did it mean that she felt the same anger? The unknowns were piling up, as the answers were trickling down the drain.

What was Alexia Ashford's intention?

6

Dear blank page:

My name is Amelia Campbell. I was born into a Scottish family descended from the Stuarts. I spent my childhood in our castle in Glasgow and my teenage years at boarding school. Two months ago I turned 19. I have been living in a laboratory for a month because my cousin Alexia killed a human being.

I am a good Christian. I am not like my big brother. I am good. I am not like the rest of my family, like my father and my mother. I am good. I am not like the Ashfords. I am good. My heart is kind, in spite of the trials that fate puts me through. I am good and I will prove that I am good and that I am not like Alexia, but God has tested me again.

Alexia has begun to sympathise with William. That man who once tried to kill her over something as stupid as a test tube. Why does God always make it difficult for me? If Alexia is able to show sympathy for a stranger, it means that I will have to show a higher morality in order not to fall into evil. But what if it's a ploy? Alexia could kill William or stop sympathising with him at any time, so I would have passed the test. I pray to God it's the second option.

Amelia Campbell

7

Dear paper:

Alexia and William continue to socialise. I have seen them chatting on the sly and for several hours. They keep talking. I am disturbed by their suddenly good relationship. I know Alexia has a plan. I can feel it. Annette seems just as disturbed as I am.

Amelia Campbell

8

Dear crumpled paper:

And there was light. Back to Scotland. To my home. Sasha has arranged everything. Thank God, freedom. But an unexpected event has occurred. Alexia has invited William to Ashford Hall. Yes, crumpled paper, as you read: Alexia has invited William to Ashford Hall for a few days to, she says, continue research into the Progenitor virus. I don't know what happened and I don't care. BACK TO SCOTLAND.

PS: Ogie sucks. He is still fucking around in the factory with Alfred. Idiots.

Amelia Campbell

9

His brain was throbbing. His wrists and ankles ached from the locking restraints. Strapped to a gurney, William had become a mass of flesh that existed to breathe and withstand the thrust of the drugs seeping into his nervous system.

He didn't know where he was. All he remembered was a man Alexander called Ward. It was this Ward who started talking to William. Ward convinced him that he had broken the Ashford's trust when he tried to escape from their mansion, but that Alexander was willing to forgive him. William did not want to return to Ashford Hall. At Ashford Hall he had discovered horror.

For a week he was alone in that house. De Vermis Mysteriis. The book led him to a dungeon filled with esoteric superciliousness, and to an altar of sacrifice. Stanley Ashford's voice echoed pristine through the loudspeaker: Ïa! Aa! Azathoth! He went mad as, in the kitchen, he read Thomas Ashford's recipe book for flaying a human body and eating it. He vomited when he went into one of the guest rooms and discovered the tools Arthur Ashford had used to perform lobotomies and trepanations. Photographs showed how they worked: children with their skulls pierced and maps with racial hierarchies. In the basement he also saw her. Resting in her tomb, the mummy of Veronica Ashford lay at the heart of the pyramid. But the worst came when he finished listening to Edward Ashford's autobiographical recordings. He created the Progenitor virus as a replacement for the atomic bomb.

William broke through one of the doors and fled. Nowhere. Everywhere. But they stopped him in his stampede through the Cheviot Hills. They tied him up and put a bag over his head. He woke up tied to a steel chair and in a straitjacket.

Alexander Ashford.

Alexander spoke to him as if he were his father. He told him that Alexia protected him and that he would survive. But that protection had not been given to him in exchange for anything. William would have to repay Alexia. William would have to prove to the Ashfords that he was worthy of their trust. There would be no second chances. Loyalty or death.

William chose loyalty. He sacrificed himself for his wife and for his daughter.

Alexander disappeared.

William was thrown into a padded cell. His mind was blank. Stupid, William, I warned you, Albert would have said. You were never very mature, his parents would have said. Indeed, I was never very mature and he had failed, anger being the only thing driving his body's mechanisms.

That was the end of him. The end of a life devoted to zero ambition. Really, he should have devoted himself to astrophysics.

The door to his cell opened.

Alexia.

10

Her existence was fragmentary.

First of all, there was an Alexia who was happy. A naïve and curious Alexia, unaware that she was conceived as the by-product of a transitory selfishness. Elizabeth missed that Alexia. But she had disappeared.

Secondly, there was an Alexia who was thrown into an adult world that both admired and repudiated her. An Alexia who learned to behave according to the taste of adults. An Alexia who learned to override her emotions in order to survive her feelings. An Alexia who never felt understood because adults, including her father, had erected an imaginary wall separating her, the exception, from the common, the experience of the common being what should determine the exception. An Alexia who focused on books so as not to let herself drown in anguish; so as not to let herself be suffocated by the strange thoughts that assailed her. What if she disappeared? But that Alexia did not disappear, she was transformed.

Thirdly, there was an Alexia who, confined in a laboratory, imagined herself as the queen of a fairy tale. An Alexia who wanted to create her own utopia. A utopia without suffering, without anguish, without adults, without emotions or feelings. A utopia tailored to her will. But the will disappeared. The queen died.

Fourthly, there was an absent Alexia. An Alexia who secluded herself in the safety of her room to escape the outside world. Between the ages of 12 and 16, this absent Alexia took refuge in the shelter of her broken dreams. An Alexia who, despite getting her doctorate and continuing to fulfil the dreams of adults, existed for and because of her fantasies. Melancholic fantasies about the loss of will and of what could have been and never was.

Fifthly, there was a lost Alexia. An Alexia who left the room because of the only person who really loved her. Alfred. But his love was never enough to defeat the monster that germinated inside her. A monster that fed on her despair, her helplessness and her anger at not being able to decide who she was. A monster that was throwing her past happiness in her face, that was tempting her with the memory of T-Veronica, that was convincing her to sink into seclusion, that was whispering in her ear to commit suicide. A lost Alexia who only felt the anger born of her helplessness at being unable to know who she was; the naïve Alexia, the queen Alexia, the absent Alexia or the lost Alexia.

Alfred could not help her. Alexander never knew how to be her father. Elizabeth never knew how to love her. And her lineage, the Ashfords, and her dynasty, the Stuarts, chained her to carry on the tradition of those who were dead.

But she wanted to live. Not to live according to the dictates of adults, but to live according to her will. The adults tried to tame her with therapy and medication, but they never succeeded. Because there was something in her, an Alexia, that always rebelled. An indomitable force in her being that kept her alive because it never died out. And this being had one thing to do. A test. A confirmation. A verdict. A question to which it must now answer. However, the questioner was not supposed to be her. It had to be an outsider who was also capable of understanding the monster that was roaring inside her.

A desperate measure. A blind shot. A miscalculation. But I couldn't waste any more time. It had to be now.

Alexia opened the door of the cell where her father had imprisoned William Birkin.

“William.”

William's eyes narrowed, but he was conscious.

“What...”

“I need your help.”

“What for...”

“To conclude our conversation.”

“We've talked about many things....”

“About what we talked about that time in the sewer.”

William opened his eyes wide.

“The world sucks,” he said.

“We need to conclude the conversation.”

William closed his eyes.

“Get me out of here,” he said.

“We fly to Canada. There we will decide what to do next.”

“Annette. Sherry. I'm sorry.”

Alexia unstrapped William from the stretcher. They both ran to the exit.

11

Police search a factory with 14 mutilated bodies inside.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Come on, dad, pick up the fucking phone.”

“Yes? Who's calling?”

“Dad, it's Alfred. Dad, please, you have to help me.”

“What happened?”

“The factory, dad, they've discovered the factory.”

“Where are you?”

“At home, with Auguste and Peter.”

“God... Go to the airport. Go to Rockfort. Quickly!”

[shapeshiftersvt]

Cryptid Collection Spotlight: Mothman

Welcome to our first cryptid spotlight! Over the course of this week we're going to infodump about the six cryptids we chose to feature in our Cryptid Collection! We'll be posting about the lore and origins, our thoughts, experiences, and relationships with all of these cryptids, and we encourage folks to share their own!

First up is Mothman!

👣The Cryptid Collection 🗺️Cryptid Travel Posters 🦋Mothman Binders & Sportsbras 🧵Mothman fabric designs

On November 15, 1966, two young couples were out for a joyride along the backroads around Point Pleasant, West Virginia. Around midnight, they made it to the decommissioned munitions factory the locals called The TNT Area (now the McClintic Wildlife Management Area) where they encountered the creature we now know as Mothman.

Those two couples (Linda and Roger Scarberry, and Mary and Steve Mallette) weren't the first to see it. In fact there'd been enough sightings before that of the creature lurking in the woods by The TNT Area, that it had gained a local nickname — The Bird. But their story was so detailed and harrowing that it was reported on in the local newspapers the very next day, making it the very first published sighting of the Mothman.

According to the Scarberries' and Mallettes' accounts of the incident, when they arrived at The TNT Area, the first thing they saw of the creature was its eyes, glowing red in the headlights of their car. It didn't chase them, not yet. Instead they watched it turn and disappear around the corner of the building, which gave them a better view of the rest of the creature.

All four eye witnesses — and at least one of the earlier eye witnesses — described the creature as a humanoid with wings. According to the original police reports about the November 15th incident, the Mothman was grey in color, around 6-7 feet tall, with muscular legs. The wings on its back, also grey, when fully unfurled, had a wingspan of around 10 feet. The only color on the entire creature were the circular eyes, about 2 inches wide and 6 inches apart, which glowed "a fiery red" in the car's headlights. But despite seeing its legs and eyes clearly enough to give those detailed descriptions, Linda Scarberry and Mary Mallette both reported being unable to see any arms or even a head.

When the creature disappeared around the building — wobbling as if it were unsteady on its feet — Roger Mallette, who was driving the car, floored it, heading back towards town with his passengers yelling at him to hurry. They were not home free yet, though, because they saw the creature again, perched on a hill as if waiting for them as they turned a bend in the road. As they watched, the creature spread its wings and launched straight into the air. The terrified passengers amped up their shouting for Roger to get them out of there.

As they pulled out onto a straight stretch of road, Roger was able to really open it up, speeding down the road at around 100 miles per hour. But it wasn't fast enough. The creature kept pace with the car, the passengers reporting not only being able to see it and its shadow through the rear windshield and back passenger windows, they could hear its wings flapping as it kept up to speed, could hear them brushing and scratching against the roof of the car. They weren't able to shake it off until they reached the gates of a local farmer's home, theorizing that it was the bright lights that had scared it off.

They drove the rest of the way into town, stopping near the lights of a local business to process what had just happened and figure out what to do next. Linda insisted on calling the police, but Roger and Steve were worried that the police would just laugh at them and, against both Linda and Mary's protests, decided to drive back out to the road. They only got as far as the farm before they lost their nerve and decided to turn back. But, just as Roger was turning the car back towards town, something leapt out from behind an animal carcass beside the road, climbed over the back of their car, and disappeared into the field on the other side of the road. The couples didn't know for sure if it was the Mothman or something else entirely, but it scared them enough to convince Roger and Steve to finally go to the police.

After telling their story and insisting that they hadn't been drinking that night, a policeman and another local, Gary, who'd placed the call for them from a drive-in diner, decided to follow them back up the road to The TNT Area to look for the creature again. The couples saw it first, walking in a pasture as they crested a hill. It flew into the air directly towards them, but veered off and disappeared when it was hit by the headlights of Gary's car coming up over the hill. They drove up and down road for a bit, but didn't see it again and the whole caravan headed back towards town where they met up with Deputy Sheriff Millard Halstead.

The Deputy Sheriff drove back up to The TNT Area with the couples and Gary once more. The drive, this time, was uneventful, and once they'd parked, Halstead turned on the spotlight on his car to search the tree line. While Roger only reported seeing seeing some "dust or smoke" coming from the nearby coalyard, both Linda and Mary reported more. Strange shadows on the building, an odd noise like the squeaking of a mouse "only a lot stronger", and eventually the eyes. Linda and Mary both recalled telling Halstead that they could see the eyes and that he then turned his spotlight directly on them without even asking them to point them out, implying that he could see the eyes too.

They didn't say what happened after the Deputy Sheriff turned his light on the eyes, but after sitting out there for about 15-20 minutes with no other major incident, the group piled back into their respective cars, drove back into town, and went their separate ways. Too scared to be alone after the experience, the Mallettes stayed that night at the Scarberries' home, though none of them were able to fall asleep.

The next day, the couples were interviewed by the local paper, who sent a reporter to go back out to The TNT Area with them, where they saw the creature again. A few days later three of the four witnesses gave their official police report describing the creature and the incident in detail. They also went into some detail about the harassment and mocking they'd been experiencing in the days since the encounter. Accusations of excessive drinking were common; Linda and Mary both complained about not being able to go out in public without hearing people laughing at them; speculations about what they "really" saw out in the woods were plentiful and insistent that the couples simply couldn't have seen what they knew they'd seen; Linda even described a local minister making light of their experience.

But even as the Scarberries and Mallettes were being ostracized by many of their neighbors, the sightings continued. The two couples have, over the years, individually reported seeing Mothman again several times. Linda, in particular, has claimed that Mothman was an occasional visitor to the Scarberry home's roof. Of course after the newspaper article about their encounter was published, not only did previous reports start coming to light, more people made pilgrimages to The TNT Area either seeking out their own encounter or trying to prove one of the many debunking theories people have posed. With so many people visiting the site, it was inevitable that the reports of encounters with Mothman would only continue.

Since that Fall night in 1966, speculation about who, what, and why Mothman is have spread through both the believers and nonbelievers. The most common theories among the debunkers are that Mothman is simply a bird. Some speculate that it's an owl. The Huntington Herald-Dispatch reported a mere four days after the incident that West Virginia University professor, Dr. Robert L. Smith, was certain that Mothman was just a sandhill crane that had taken a detour during its normal migration (though he admitted that not all the details fit the crane, nor was he aware of any confirmed sightings in the area around that time, even though the occasional sandhill crane had been spotted in the area before).

On the other side of the speculation, some folks believe that Mothman is some kind of demon. Others believe it's simply a creature we previously didn't know existed. Still others have chosen to believe that Mothman is not only not an evil or malicious entity, but that it came to Point Pleasant, WV to help.

On December 15, 1967, Point Pleasant's Silver Bridge collapsed into the Ohio River under the weight of heavy rush hour traffic. It was, at the time, the worst bridge accident in American history, thrusting Point Pleasant into a national spotlight and triggering a rehaul in regulations for both the inspection of existing bridges, and the building of new ones.

The fact that the tragedy happened exactly thirteen months to the day after the Scarberry and Mallette sighting; the fact that, leading up to the collapse, many locals reported having nightmares about an upcoming disaster, some even specifically seeing people drowning in the Ohio River; the fact that reported sightings of Mothman suddenly dropped off immediately following the disaster, have led some to believe that the Mothman was simply there to try to warn the people of Point Pleasant about the upcoming tragedy.

This theory, popularized by the 2002 Richard Gere film, The Mothman Prophecies, was proposed originally by writer, journalist, and ufologist, John Keel in his book of the same name that loosely inspired the 2002 film.

It's hard to fully grasp Mothman's influence on the greater US culture. While it doesn't have the mainstream name recognition that Bigfoot or Nessie do, it's impossible to deny that it's become more well-known outside of its territory than almost any other regional cryptid. The 2002 film, largely met with a resounding "meh" by audiences and critics alike, may have been Mothman's most mainstream appearance besides also been name-dropped in the hugely popular '90s series, The X-Files. But where Mothman really finds popularity is in lesser known, more niche media with passionate fans — original comics, video games, prematurely canceled genre sitcoms, made-for-TV movies, and actual play TTRPG podcasts.

There's no mistaking that Mothman has become a symbol, icon, and darling of weirdos, queerdos, nerds, geeks, and freaks. The folks who know that there's more to life than just accepting the world as society presents it to you.

[mad-hare]

So in PalWorld, could I theoretically just make a passive little animal farm like I could in ark? Like I don’t HAVE to run around making guns and fighting?

Cause if so 👀

they work by themselves at any tasks they can do in your base you don't have to physically steer them like in ark

you don't have to run around and gather stone and wood you just place stone/wood farms at your base and they gather. stuff like metal i think you have to gather but you can build base somewhere where it spawns in on its own and they'll farm it. and you can build factory assembly lines and force them to mass produce shit for you. I KNOW you hate crafting games cuz material gathering so you might like it if you can master how to pilot and manipulate the lil guys (each species has specific tasks its able to do so you gotta make sure you have ones that do the work you need on your base). also like ark it lets you set up sliders so you can probably just set like double harvest if you REALLY hate gathering ajondsjankdsl

i'm 13 hours in and haven't even beaten the first boss. it's part of the "tutorial" but she's fucking strong and annihilated me the first time i went (THANKFULLY your shit drops outside the dungeon gate if you die in the dungeon so you can get your shit back)

[valentinablackhand]

So hey I finally finished that story, I hope people enjoy it. Be mindful that I am NOT a writer but I'm proud of this story. THIS CONTENT IS MATURE, CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, DEATH, CHILD LOSS, AND GORE

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Background information on the future reading material

Hello! This is going to be some background on why I’m writing this, what inspired me, and how this is going to be portrayed. For starters, this is going to be a sort of fan fiction/character origin story prior to the events of Baldur’s Gate 3, a game inspired by D&D with roleplaying aspects and turn-based fighting. The character I am writing about is Theresa “Onyx'' Blackhand. Onyx hails from the colder northern region, Icewind Dale. She lived in a small rural area called Aneira with her adoptive brother, Tanith, and her mother, Eulalie. The year is 1490, two years before the events of Baulder’s Gate 3, and it is set in the height of winter, a rather awful blizzard is running its course through the town and our adventurer is going to see the apex of nature's wrath. This story is going to be told in the eyes of our main character, of course.

Some background on me, the writer (who isn’t the best at writing). My name is Ava but I go by Valentina online and I am an artist and dungeon master! D&D has inspired a lot of what I do and the media/games I play, and in general, has changed my life for the betterment of my creativity. The Baldur’s Gate community has given me so many amazing artists, writers, and players to be inspired by, not to mention the writers and actors who are in the game itself. I wouldn’t be where I am today without the inspiration of others, friends, and partners who encouraged me to pursue my passions of the fantasy and D&D worlds I’ve created. This is a test and dedication to the many more worlds, characters, and friends I’ll make along the way through shared interests. I thank you, dear reader, for taking the time to read my rambling and indulge in one of my favorite characters I have come up with, background, gameplay, and story wise. 

Winter, 1490; A Warm Welcome

Howling, freezing wind cuts through me like a blade, cutting right through the layers of wool and hide I wear out in this tundra. My face is burning, hair covered in a thick coating of ice, sticking to my scalp and face like tree sap.

“Is this the clearing Tanith was talking about? This is awfully deep in these woods…” I said to myself, wondering how he could navigate through this storm. This winter has been worse than in seventy years, he shouldn’t be outside now anyways. Mother is getting worried sick about him. This is the third time this week I’ve had to dig him out of trouble, little wriggly worm he is. “Tanith? Tanith! Where are you? It’s too late to be outside, the storm gets worse at night!” I yelled out into the clearing, but my words were quickly snuffed out by the wind once again. Just as I was about to give up and find help, torch light shines through the clearing, Tanith standing there with that slimy grin on his face.

“I knew you would find me! Now c’mon, there’s something I want to show you!” he shouts as he darts off into the tundra again. I chase after him despite my skeleton shaking in this cold. Why is winter so brutal this year? Mother and Tanith have been acting strangely as of late. My heart is racing, where is he leading me? We finally stop running as we reach the top of a cliff, surprisingly high above the city below. The lights are mesmerizing, staring down into the flurry of snow and ice almost seems magical beneath the tons of houses and factories brimming with life. 

“You know, I’m glad you dragged me out here. This is a wonderful sight to see” saying as I grab him into a side hug, holding him tightly for warmth and security. 

“You really need to stop going out at odd hours of the night, Mother is getting worried sick about your habits as of late”

“I know she is but I’m restless! Being inside all day is no fun, and I can’t see friends through all of this snow! I can’t wait for winter to end” Tanith says in an unhappy huff, burying his face into my coat. There’s a certain unease in the air tonight when the wind stops blowing, it slowly wraps my heart in black tendrils and brings sweat to my brow. 

“I know, I can’t either. Say, how about we go back home now? There’s still some sweet rolls left over.”

“There are? You didn’t eat them all?” 

“Not yet!” I say, darting off in the direction we came, Tanith close behind. He passes me in just a few strides, the speedy bastard. He has always been fast, no matter if he’s carrying heavy wood or our mountain of a dog. We finally reach the back door of our cabin and burst in, letting out a sigh of relief as we feel the warmth of the fire seeping throughout the house. Mother is sitting by the fire, we startled her by bursting into the door unannounced.

“There you two are, I was getting worried sick! You look positively dreadful Theresa, sit by the fire.” Mother says, wrapping a wool shawl over my shoulders and gesturing towards the large wooden chair. Tanith joins me shortly, bringing a tray of sweet rolls with him. His eyes are glistening but something is missing, his usual spark of joy is no longer there. There’s something he isn’t telling me.

A dreadful proposal

We all retired for the night but I can’t sleep, my head is spinning and my heart is racing. Were the sweet rolls bad? Was I out in the cold too long? I can’t be sure, but time is at a standstill and I am tossing like mad. Minutes felt like hours but before I knew it, our front door swung open. Mother and Tanith weren’t awake, so it must have been the wind. I got up in a dizzying state and stumbled out of my room to close the door when I saw this man standing in the door frame, almost filling it out, the light from the fire making his features positively grim. His stature was sunken although he was built to the nines, his face looked like a husk of a man, his arms, big and dead, like a once mighty oak tree taken by rot and decay. Is this man undead?

He stood in pure silence as he took a step into my home, halfway to me already with his long stride, and stopped mere inches from me. I can see the whites of his eyes, or what would be white if they weren’t bloodshot and glassy. Finally seeing his face in the light, he was covered in blood. I tried to gain my composure quickly and grab something, anything, to hit him with, but he grabbed me by the shoulders and knocked me out cold. The next few hours I would fade in and out of consciousness, seeing snow pass underneath me, then cobble, finally back to snow. I have no idea where I’m going. I’m worried about my family. What has he done to them? Are they even alive? My head is pulsing with pain and heat, a roaring heat as if I were in the depths of Avernus. We were going uphill on rocky terrain, the dense wood of a carriage underneath me hits my bones with each bump like stone.

After almost a day had passed, I awoke in a chair, bound at my wrists and my ankles tied to each leg. Why am I receiving this punishment? Did I see something I wasn’t supposed to see looking over that cliff? I let the memory flood my mind and I couldn’t see anything but snow blowing across my vision and the twinkling of the lanterns below. Looking around the room, it’s more like a cell. A singular bed roll laid in a dark corner, a wash basin, and an old door, about to fall off its hinges if it took a single blow. The air is rather humid, thick with the smell of iron and wet stone. I look at my restraints and they seem simple to break out of, too simple, in fact. Just as I try to move towards a wall, someone walks into the cell. It’s the same man as before, but now I can see his face. Dirty brown hair, gray eyes that hold no glint of light in them, and a rather large nose, badly patched up after a break. His face screams a hard, tortured life. 

Before I know it, he strides over and unties my restraints, grabs my arm tightly, and makes me stand. I tried to land a blow with my other arm, but he grabbed my fist in an instant.

“Who are you?! What have you done with my family?” I shouted, looking over this shell of a man. His body ached and creaked like an old house, and I can see the outline of his muscle and bone on every part of exposed skin.

“Mustn't talk, the Lord is waiting” he said with a deep voice, almost vibrating the air around him. There was something otherworldly about him. Is this the work of a necromancer? “He needs to see you. Your family is waiting.” he leans in, and whispers ever so softly “I don’t want to have to hurt you again, the Lord is making me hunt others for his game of cat and mouse.” His eyes finally have life to them, wet pearls of sadness and regret. His breath smelled of rot, his hair was as stiff as straw. How many others did he bring to this “Lord” he spoke of? What is going to happen to me? 

With my arm still held by this undead husk, we walked a short distance to an audience hall. Decorated lavishly with gold and marble, red carpets, dark wooden chairs and tables, and statues of hardly clothed men and women, all eyeing a chair in the center of the room. I see them, my family, finally after what felt like an eternity. The stranger lets my arm free and I rush over to where they stand, clinging onto both my brother and mother so tight.

“Tanith… Aneira, I never thought I would see you again, where are we?” I glance above Mother’s head and see the snow building up through an unreasonably large window. The day is bright, almost blinding against the snow. I’m in familiar territory, thankfully.

“Theresa I hadn’t a clue where you were! I awoke to such an awful sound when those men came in and grabbed Tanith and I. My heart felt like it was leaping out of my chest. At least we have you now, my love.” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. Just as this sweet moment couldn’t get any better, the double doors at the end of the audience room open, creaking and moaning with every movement. 

“Ahh, these are our most esteemed guests then, hm? I was expecting more… hardened looking people for being a family of lumberjacks, afterall. My name is Lord Ransley, it is a pleasure to meet you." The man spoke, confident, dominant, and radiant. He was eyeing me curiously, looking for something within my appearance that I hadn’t a clue what he wanted to see. He carried a tome on his hip, lined in gold and the cover had a yawning mouth with a purple gem shoved into the center. This has to be the necromancer of the house, and apparently the Lord as well. Looking around again, the unseen halves of the statues were all bone and muscle remnants, real muscle and bone. The room stunk of decay and humid bodies. “You are rather extraordinary, you know? A half-elf with such muscle definition, tall stature, and eyes that hold the world within them…” Ransley says again, walking around me like a curious dog, grazing his hand over my biceps and back. I shift away from his touch, feeling a rush of cold go down my spine. He grabs a lock of my hair and shudders, as if he’s enjoying himself, pleasuring himself to my physique. 

“What exactly are you looking for in me, your lordship,” I said harshly “and why knock out and kidnap my family, bring them to an unknown house, and gawk at them? Is this for your own sick pleasure?” I spat, locking eyes with this short statured freak.

“Ohh, feisty are we? Fret not, my large friend, I will answer your questions after you answer one of mine. Then you and your family will be able to go back home and live your lives as they were.”

He paces around me, studying my figure until he gets right in front of me and asks “Your father had something of mine that he stole, and gave it to you. That large steel amulet you wear, it belongs to me. I know what power it contains, and I know that you can’t live without it. How does having cold lungs feel, little love? If you give me back that necklace, I may just help you with your affliction, but if not… Well, your family is not going anywhere.” Little Love. The nickname dad gave to me. Hearing the words was like a sharp puncture in my diaphragm. 

How does he know about my lungs? I’ve had this affliction ever since I was young, I caught a cold and since then I have had an icy cold breath that can freeze anything it touches. This amulet is the one thing that keeps me able to keep breathing without freezing the world around me. I can’t risk letting this go, even if it is Ransley’s. I have to figure out a way out of this house with my family. Ransley slips a hand to my neck and pulls the necklace out from under my collar, eyeing it lovingly. His breath is hot on my skin as he puts his lips to my ear and whispers “We can accomplish so much together, little love.”

“You want me to give up the thing that makes me able to breathe normally? Do you want your house to be in icy ruin?” I say, my anger rising with each touch and word he says.

“No, my dear, it would be a shame to see my lovely home go down. Are you really not going to give me back my possessions?” he says, taking a stride towards my family “Pity… I thought you would be smarter than this.” He walks up to Tanith, who is as white as snow, and puts a hand under his chin, studying his features.

“If you have a quarrel with me, then keep me here. My family doesn’t need to be a part of this. They never were in the first place.”

Aneira and Tanith are humans, they have lived only a fraction of the life I have lived. They deserve to live their lives to the fullest, I fear that Ransley is planning something drastic.

“Fine, if you will not give me that amulet, I will take it off of your corpse. You will make a fine addition to the many beautiful faces I have in my war room” he says, as he turns away to grab a sword displayed on a plaque behind a large chair. He touches the blade, running his fingers along the edge in ecstacy, as if he’s going to enjoy hurting me. Looking around the room, there are two guards. Easy targets, they aren’t as strong as me and they can barely hold the hammers they’re equipped with I think to myself. How are Aneira and Tanith going to escape? The double doors Ransley had previously pranced through is the only way out. I give each of them a shove. “Aneira, Tanith, run!!” I shout at them, darting for the hammer a guard is equipped with, knocking him on the floor with one shoulder charge. He falls to the floor, the flesh under his armor breaks off in chunks and his bones shatter once they hit the ground. More undead. Turning to face Ransley, he is running towards me, sword pointed towards me. I thrust my hammer and knock his sword off its course, and take a swing at him. I hear bones crack, it hits, by the Gods it hits. 

After he gets his footing again, he steadies his gaze towards me, preparing for a swing. I brace and block his first blow, his arm going limp at his side. From his other sleeve, he pulls out a dagger and slices across my shoulder, a deep cut that would take a while to heal. I wince out in pain and his eyes light up like a fire. What a sick, twisted freak. With a one armed swing, I knock the dagger out of his hand and strike another blow quickly with my hammer. Something is welling up in my chest. It’s warm and radiant, I feel strength ebbing out of me.

“Listen to me, Lord, I have no clue why my father stole this amulet from you, but you aren’t getting it back. You threatened my family and my life, you have no right to hurt my family. I will end you swiftly and painfully, for you have no say in my fate!” I say, and as the words roll off my tongue, the hammer I wield is basked in a radiant light. Power. I feel power flowing through me, a divine power. Who granted me this power matters not, at this moment I have my opponent under my grip. Ransley’s arm is limp at his side, he still wields his sword in the other. He lunges at me, swinging his sword from above, I block with the handle of my hammer. Even with one arm, he is still rather strong. Taking a good look at his physique, he himself is partially undead, he has great strength but each blow he takes, he weakens. I fling him off with a side swipe and take a swing at his back, hitting his tailbone and knocking him on the floor. With one hand, I sit him forward and drop my hammer. Taking swings at him, my fists get coated in crimson. His breathing is shallow and slow, I drop him back on the floor with a loud thud and pick up the hammer. My breaths are short and icy, the coldness in my lungs is unbearable. Looking down at Ransley, I broke his nose and jaw pretty good. He won’t be standing up any time soon. His breathing is gargled and mashed, his windpipe must be broken. I need to let him suffer a slow death, choking on his blood and bile until his last breath exits his lips. 

After leaving the audience hall and taking a look around, I find Lord Ransley’s room. In my search, I found his personal journal which reads “Barnes stole the Amulet of Curse Binding from me and gave it to his sick, weak daughter. Pathetic. If she is too weak to shake an illness, she is too weak to live. I will find him one way or another, our deal isn’t finished.” Deal? What deal had my father made? Whatever it was, it doesn’t matter now. I don’t suspect that Ransley will recover from a crushed windpipe. Flipping through the journal, another entry catches my attention. “I don’t know how much longer I can stand, my bones are brittle and weak. My flesh is starting to fall off of me. Myrkul needs to hear his servant, to provide his blessing unto me.”I shudder at the thought of being an undead, having no control of the decay of your physical form while you remain conscious sounds like the ninth circle of Avernus. As I put the journal in my pack, that blinding light illuminates my vision again. A woman in white robes, with even whiter hair, stands before me. 

“Child of light, I am the spirit Evangeline. You show great power in judgment and vengeance. I have imbued you with the divine power I once had. I propose an oath to you, an Oath of Vengeance, avenge those who have fallen to dark powers and dark people, cast out evil from this world in my name and spirit, oh divine vessel. Your hammer is your oath, and your divine being is my spirit. This is my word.” 

She disappeared as soon as the last word was uttered from her mouth. Was this my purpose now? To purge the blights of evil from this world? I bolted out of the room and my head started spinning. I was too enthralled in a fight and forgot where my family had gone. Rushing through the seemingly endless halls of this house, I found more guards and the mysterious man who kidnapped us all waiting for me at the exit, my family lying on the floor. They peered up at me with glossy eyes, pleading for me to go and leave them to the guards. The mystery man tilted his head up and gave me a nod and after, he whips a sword out of his coat and stabs the guard on his left until he collapses to the ground. I take a stride and aim at the next guard rushing towards me, striking true to his jaw. It snaps in an awful, bone chilling sound and he kneels, screaming in blood coated words. With one hand, I take Tanith and the man takes Aneira.

We rush through the doors and the wind chill strikes all of us, a familiar and welcome feeling to that of the house of Ransley. Outside was still bone chilling, but it wasn’t the uneasy feeling inside that overly decorated audience hall. 

“Onyx, what happened? Why does he want your amulet? What deal was that man talking about?” Tanith said, giving me a scared look. Something about his gaze is telling, like he knows what’s about to happen.

“I don’t know, but you remember why I wear it, right?”

“Yes, it keeps the cold away from you” he said, his face easing into a soft smile, but his eyes lack any reflection. What in the hells had they done to him in the time I wasn’t there to protect him? To protect Aneira?

I take a look at Aneira and she is as white as a sheet, her eyes fixated on me. I can’t see her breath in the air, is she breathing? I let go of Tanith and grabbed her, shaking her. “Aneira? Aneira! Listen to me! Are you alright, can you hear me?”I screamed, shaking her shoulders. Her eyes are still fixated where I was standing, she’s as cold as a corpse. I look at the undead man, and he looks just the same. Snapping back at Tanith, he is starting to freeze. “Tanith! Please, no! What is happening to everyone?!” I scream, looking back at the door to see a blood stained and cripled Ransley, holding a staff covered in arctic shards. Rage is overflowing again, seeing my family frozen to the ground, my second chance at raising a child has flown out the window. I won’t let him get away with killing what I love.

“You see, Onyx, this is what happens when you don’t give me what I’m rightfully owed!” he screams, waving the staff in a circular motion with his one good arm, bringing in more snow and cold. He is surrounded in an undead green light, the work of the God of Death. I should have broken both arms. I dart out of the blast radius before he unleashes a winter like I’ve never seen. One look back where my family stood and they were gone, frozen to the land they stood on. Aneira, Tanith, and this man who helped me without even knowing who I was. Gone. A rage like no other fills my senses as I take a look at the scrawny man in the doorway, ready to cast another spell. Hammer in hand, I run over screaming and jump, hammer overhead and ready to strike down on his head. As the hit lands, divine light shines and I see the whites of his eyes gleam one last time before his skull is split in two, mashed beyond recognition. I keep whaling on him, beating his skull in until it’s a mashed pile of bone, flesh, and blood.

I fall to the ground, crying so hard that I can’t see. My tears cling to my face as they freeze in this awful weather. How did this all happen so fast? How can I go home now, with so many memories of raising Tanith and aiding Aneira through her remaining years? The remaining hope I had for a family is now gone, frozen, and it hurts like no other pain I’ve felt before. I stare at Ransley’s corpse, wondering how he found me in the first place. The staff he wields even in death, it’s cold to the touch but brimming with the Weave. It’s a very powerful item, and I’m taking it as a reminder. A heirloom of a necromancer, the undead prick who stole my life in one day.

I’m coming home

I stayed at the Ransley estate for two days after the incident, seeking and searching for who he was and why he wanted this Amulet. I found out that Evangeline was his wife, who he murdered for his own sick and twisted pleasure. He logged his thoughts after he pleasured himself to her corpse, but he never turned her into one of his thralls. She was only, what seemed to be, in her early twenties from the pictures I found that weren’t torn to shreds. In the basement of this house was where she was kept, and still remains. Her hair as white as snow and she was dressed in white robes, as I saw her in my divine vision. The ground outside is too hard to dig for a grave, so I fashioned a small circle out of wood and carved a prayer into it. Wrapping her in a burlap cloth and laying her on her back, I placed the prayer on her and took a moment of silence. I did this for those outside as well, since I can’t give them a proper burial yet. These last two days have been rather gruesome and depressing, but I need to press on. I need to go home and set out on the quest Evangeline gave me to purge the world of evil. 

I take what rations of food I can find, some clothing and furs as well, and set off back to the cabin. Surprisingly, it wasn’t too far away from this estate. I didn’t even need to make camp and I made it back by dusk. The door was still swung open from when the undead man opened it last, the common area full of snow. My mind still wanders, what was it that Tanith was hiding? Throughout the whole ordeal, he was a husk of his normal, happy self. I may never know now, now that Ransley and his guards took away that young boy who I almost considered my son. My son? He might as well have been, I was there from the moment he emerged into this world from his late mother, who I never learned of other than when she was in labor with him. Aneira, the lady of this cabin, a seamstress who took care of me when I had no place to go after father died, is a frozen corpse. She took me in and treated me like one of her own, even though her own had already gone and made lives for themselves. Oh gods, if I ever run into them, how can I tell them of her fate?

I shut the door, its hinges almost froze over in my absence. Heading to the upper portion of the cabin, I feel that grip in my chest that I felt before. This isn’t some bad dream where I’ll wake up and they will be downstairs, making a fire and telling stories. I peer into my old room, everything is just as I left it. The furs along my bed still shifted off, the small shelf filled with books and trinkets I collected out in the dense forest. I grab a few sentimental belongings, books, and more furs and stuff them into my pack. Was this the only reason I had come here? I walked my way over to Tanith’s room, his room is in pristine condition. He had always been very neat, so it’s no surprise to me. His clothes are in a neat pile on a dresser, so small. He was barely twelve years old. I searched his room, trying to keep things as they were when he left them. I found a note stashed away in a book on dreams and premonitions. When had he gotten this? He usually only read memoirs on nature and animals, he wasn’t spiritual. Well, at least I thought so. I unfold the note and it’s addressed to me. Me? How? I begin reading his sloppy handwriting, and I get my answer. He knew how he was going to end, Aneira, too. He knew I would have been given the gifts of a Paladin from Evangeline. He wrote an excerpt on how this amulet protects me from cold spells, curses of the winter, and the inability to slip on icy surfaces. “I don’t understand how, but the amulet that you wear is filled with magic from a lady with white hair who keeps me safe at night. She isn’t a goddess or a human, something in between? I think so. Well, Barnes had stolen the amulet from someone named Ransley when he found the lady with white hair stowed away in the basement. The amulet has some of her power stored in it and whoever wears it will have their sickness or weaknesses taken away. There was someone who took care of her, a tall man named Marcus. She doesn’t talk about him much, but he has gray eyes. If you’re worried about me, I’ll be with Evangeline, so I’ll still be around! I love you, Mom”

Mom. He called me mom. Fighting tears isn’t possible anymore, they stream down my face as I clutch the note in my hand. This amulet has been imbued with the power of a demigod, Evangeline. She was a demigod? Ransley had kidnapped her and made her his wife. The undead man finally has a name, Marcus. I wish I had known this sooner, or else I would have carved that into his prayer. Tanith had been visited by Evangeline many nights before we had been taken away, he told her about the events that unfolded two days ago, and that he wasn’t going to make it. No wonder he hadn’t been himself, he knew his time had come. Marcus had been a caretaker to Evangeline, and that’s why she was locked away until she perished. He had also stood up to Ransley and failed, he got turned into his own personal thrall. Ransley’s staff has the power to dominate minds in a simple flick of the wrist. I wish I had known sooner, I wish I had known what Tanith was told. I could have turned the tides in our favor, maybe even saved everyone and just killed Ransley. He was never deserving of the title of Lord anyhow, he had servants through mind control and a very strong essence of undead power through Myrkul. 

I fold the letter closed and clutch it to my chest, trying to stifle back more tears. Things could have been different if I had been awake earlier, if I had heard Aneira and Tanith walk downstairs to investigate the noises of Marcus breaking in. All of his life, I told him I was his sister. I never wanted to form an attachment like I did to my child, although she never lived long enough to see the light of day. It seems that him and I both grew that attachment towards each other, but reading “mom” at the end of that letter let's me know that I did my best for him.  What’s done is done now, I can no longer regret the past. I set down the book, and turn away from his room. Walking outside again after grabbing materials and rations, I take one last look at the cabin door, pressing my hand onto the jagged wood. As my fingertips leave the wood, I turn and make my way to Baldur’s Gate city. Neverwinter is closer, but there’s more promise for me in the great gate. This is it, this is my destiny. This is the thing I had been longing for my whole life. A purpose with true direction, no longer am I just riding the waves of fate.

Five months later

I’ve made it to Rivington, a small area just outside of the Lower City. I finally made it out of the cold and harsh winter I used to live in. The warmth of this area is unfamiliar, the many layers I wear are beginning to be too warm. I have to figure out a place to stay. 

After venturing a bit outside of Rivington, I found an abandoned shed. I set my pack down and make preparations for the night, which rolls in quickly. There’s a ladder propped up on the side of the shed and I climb up it. The stars shine bright tonight. Taking a look around, I spot the area of the cursed Shadow Lands, which fell to be that way over one hundred years ago. It gives me chills to even think of what lies in the depths of those lands. Turning away, I lay down on the roof of the shed and drift off to sleep. The city is just ahead, all I have to do is make my way there before I have no strength to do so. I can start anew, a new life and a new purpose. May my dreams take me to where I belong. 

Dawn is slow to come, the sunrise coats the land in a lush light. The green of the grass, the smell of fresh bread and fried fish is in the air already. I make my way to the pass into the Lower City and get a pass through the Flaming Fist guards, giant mechanical beings called Steel Watchers patrol the gate and surrounding streets. Everywhere is very heavily guarded, something I’m really not used to seeing. The loudness of people talking, merchants shouting, and businesses bustling with music and conversation alike was almost too overwhelming. Shifting through crowds and guards, I make my way into Wyrm’s Crossing’s tower. A man named Lord Enver Gortash resides in the upper levels apparently. The word “Lord” still doesn’t sit right with me. 

After many hours of talking and bartering with guards, I gained a pass into the Lower City where I am appointed as a body to the courthouse judges during trials. Court hearings vary in length, but by night I try to catch criminals and assassins who stalk the streets, waiting for someone unarmed to strike at. I interrogated one of the assassins I captured and found out he was an assassin of Bhaal before I sent him into a coma and threw him into the sewer. There’s a Bhaal cult around here? If so, I will do my best to inform the Flaming Fists and the city watch alike. Over the next few months, I was a personal bodyguard to the courthouse during the day, gaining my own personal set of armor and a hammer with the symbol I chose for Evangeline, whose presence I can still feel around me like a warm hug. I am adorned with silver and black plate armor, paired with chainmail underneath. During my time in the Lower City, my heartache to be in nature grew. I missed the vast lushness of trees, seeing a pair of white foxes chase each other in the snow and pounce at one another. Finding a remote spot in the forest in spring time and taking a short swim in a lake nearby the cabin, the warm breeze flowing through my hair. The city lacked any sort of bucolic surroundings, maybe a bush here and there. It felt like a cage, but with open air and no bars. After some time, I was able to afford my own place. A small apartment near the courthouse, where I raised plants and kept small creatures who would wander into my home. I may just like this life I have, even if I don’t have what I once cherished. Something inside of me is saying that this is only the beginning of a long journey ahead.

A year from now

Things were as good as ever, a decent week at court thankfully and I found a new cat to take care of, who I named Apricot since she was the same color as one. I was cooking her a fish when I heard citizens screaming, and the thunderous roar of something in the sky. I rushed out of my balcony door to see a giant ship with tentacles and a shell hovering over the city. What in the gods name is this? I thought to myself. I put Apricot in a safe space under my bed and threw on my armor. I gave her some pets goodbye and ran out of my apartment. I was directing citizens to a safe house when another one of those living ships appeared right above the street I was standing on. The tentacles rained down and anyone who had been touched by them evaporated into them. I had to get more out of here, I had to save more citizens from an untimely death.

 Just as the thought flew into my mind, I felt the slimy touch of the tentacle across my mouth. I blinked and I was on the ship. I had to be. So were so many Baldur’s Gate citizens. A strange looking woman with green skin was trying to break out of her binds when a large tentacled freak held up its hand and put her to sleep. Mind flayers. By the Gods, a mind flayer ship? I had only heard of them in books and tall tales, I had no idea they were actually real. The mind flayer levitated towards me and held out his hand, I had gone unconscious. In my dreams, I saw my old fireplace, crackling and filling the living room with warmth. Tanith and Aneira, sitting in their chairs, beckoning me to sit by the fire. I couldn’t move, I had no control over my body. As the sweet moment filled my senses, it quickly faded away. The room imploded and snow and ice shards swirled around the two people I adored. I tried to scream, but no sound came out of my aching lungs, only more ice and snow. I snapped my head upward to see Ransley’s face looming over me, his smug smile decaying like the rest of his features. His eyes pierced right through me, as if he was trying to intimidate my soul.

 As soon as I was put to sleep, I was awake. Days had passed. No, weeks? I couldn’t tell. My stomach ached, I needed to eat, I was in a cold sweat. I looked around with what little room I had, the strange woman was still asleep in her pod across from me. The same mind flayer from before was looming over a large, fleshy basin full of an acidic smelling liquid. He pulled a worm-like thing from the basin and levitated over to the strange woman, holding his hand out so she would stare directly at the worm. It latched onto her face and snuck right into her eyeball. Oh Gods, is he going to put one in me next? Just as the thought occurs, he is back to fishing out another worm. Or maybe they were tadpoles? He picks out another one and locks eyes with me, its eyes orange and radiating malice. As he is floating towards me, I try to turn my head away, only to have it snap into place with the flick of its wrist. The tadpole screeched with a psionic power that hurt the innermost parts of my mind, and secured itself into my orbital socket. I slip into unconsciousness again. My new life, taken from me once again. Who was going to take care of Apricot? Who is going to keep the streets safe at night? I need to figure out how to get off this ship and go back to Baldur’s Gate.

[ravenrose18]

My Personal Savior

Chapter 2- Finding Sanctuary

Raven was packing up her camp after being out in the woods for so long that she wanted to have a place to stay and not sleep at night scared that she would get attacked. She puts her hoodie up, puts her backpack on, and has her crossbow on her back as well. She holds her necklace tightly as she walks towards the road. The only thing she has left from her friend from before the outbreak.

Raven was walking down the road she hasn't been with a group at all this entire time, she didn't trust anybody she dealt with so many assholes that she rather stay alone she can handle herself anyways. the only thing she can't handle is being alone, not able to get proper sleep with her nightmares causing her to stay awake all the time and her past always flashing back into her mind making her go insane, with the lack of sleep she always seeing things thinking she seeing an old friend from back before the dead. She looks down at her arm with the tattoo they got together she always thinks about him, hoping he and his wife are safe and alive somewhere and that they will reunite someday.

She needs a place to stay to try resting and maybe hopefully find some food. It's hard for her as it is out here she thought she would have died a long time ago, but she kept fighting and living for HIM.

Raven continues to walk and sees a factory-like building where she needs a place to stay. She walks up to the building, pulls out her knife, and slowly walks to the gate she looks around and keeps a close eye on her surroundings. She thinks the photo of her and Negan the day they got the tattoo together. Lucille, his wife, took the photo its been a few years since she last saw them. She was so grateful to have them in her life, after she ran away from her abusive home she lived on the streets and the day Negan found her and let her stay with them was the best day of her life.

Within the looming, concrete walls of the sanctuary, Negan sat at the worn table in his makeshift office, Lucille's handle clutched loosely in his hand. The old, wooden chair beneath him creaked as he leaned towards the other man sitting in the room, his face displaying a cold stare.

One of his lieutenants, Gavin, shifted around a little in his seat, his eyes occasionally taking glances toward Lucille, wanting to make sure the bat wasn't going to be swung at him. Eventually, Negan couldn't bear the silence any longer and spoke up once more, his voice laced with hostility. "We need those supplies, Gavin. I don't care if he has to face a whole damn army of the dead. I want you to make sure that Ezekiel delivers every single thing he has promised us. And if he doesn't - " Negan lifted Lucille a little before placing her back down. "-then Ol' Lucille and I will just have to visit him. Again and again, however long it takes until he gets the message." Gavin took one more glance at Lucille before his eyes landed on Negan. "Understood, boss -"

Negan's voice shot up once more, cutting him off. "And if that has to happen, he's not going to be the only one facing punishment. People are a resource, and the more that I have to take care of, the shit your standing in will only get deeper and deeper. Do I make myself clear?"

Gavin nodded once again, his hands beginning to tremble. Lucky for him, they were hidden beneath the table and out of his leader's vision. "I understand, boss. I'll speak with Ezekiel and get this worked out."

"Make sure that you do." Negan flashed his hand as a signal for dismissal. Gavin wasted no time at all standing up from his seat and leaving the dreaded room. Once the door was shut, Negan leaned back into the chair, his leather jacket groaning softly as he moved. He released a deep breath through his nose, and his eyes lifted to look at the ceiling. He couldn't help but think back to the times before this whole mess. How simple that they were. When he was still just some high school coach, he was married to the actual Lucille.

As his mind reveled in the nostalgia, an old friend resurfaced in his brain. A girl by the name of Raven whom he had taken in from the streets and let live with the two for some time. After Lucille's diagnosis, he lost contact with her. Now he couldn't help but wonder where fate had led her. If she were even still alive or if the dead had other plans. With a sigh, Negan brought himself out of his thoughts. As much as he wanted her to be alive, he had his doubts. He knew she was a fighter, but even the best fighters met their mark.

Negan glanced down at his arm. Hidden beneath his black jacket was a tattoo he had gotten with that same girl. A small smile tugged at his lips as he continued to think back on those days. How kind and caring she was, how she brightened up their lives. That smile faded as his heart began to ache with doubt once again. His fingers traced the engraving of a number 4 on the knob of the baseball bat before he began to lift it to rest on his shoulder. Just as he was doing so, his walkie buzzed alive.

"We have a lone woman approaching the gate. If you're part of my men, then I expect your sorry asses to meet me there." Arat's voice sounded like another of Negan's Lieutenants. Within minutes, the gate was swarmed with men, all armed to the teeth with weaponry they'd taken from other settlements. Arat took her place in front of them, her gun held in her hand instead of aimed like the rest were. Her brown eyes glanced Raven up and down, trying to assess the level of threat that she was. When she felt that she had come to an answer, she finally spoke sternly. "Who are you, and what is your business here?"

Next Chapter

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[ipsen]

vtuber au snippet: kanae and eto

this is the vtuber au, i swear.

The black suits left after Aogiri appeared, led by one calling themselves the Owl. Cloaked in dark purples and wearing a terrifying mask, they and their fellows swept away any stragglers, then turned to the fallen, securing the area.

"Find anyone moving and get them up and underground," the Owl commanded in a deep, modulated voice. "Leave the rest."

With Master Shuu incapacitated, it was up to Kanae to speak up, even if his diaphragm screamed in protest. "L-Leave--?! No, you can't--!"

The Owl turned to him suddenly and tilted their head. "Oh. A survivor. You're welcome, by the way, for arriving when we did. You weren't going to win."

Kanae grit his teeth. "We were simply caught off guard."

"You were outmanned and outgunned. Your lack of preparation only worsened the results." The Owl came a bit closer, and each step was like ice cracking under pressure. "Has the Tsukiyama family always been so careless?"

Silence.

"If you answer, I'll reward you with these." They held up a desperately needed roll of bandages. "As an outsider to the situation, I would like to hear your opinion... Kanae."

His gaze shot up. "How do you--"

"I make it a policy to know who I'm working with." He couldn't see it, but he felt the Owl's smile. "Information is the most valuable thing in this trade, more than any weapon."

Much of the Aogiri grunts had cleared out, and the remaining ones, seeing the Owl attending Kanae, left them as well.

"I do not have time for this," Kanae said, struggling to get up. "Where are you taking Master Shuu? I must be at his side..."

"In your condition? I think not." The Owl grabbed his shoulder and sat him down. "It's a simple trade with a simple answer, Rosewald."

They even knew about that? How? When? Had the information leaked somehow?

"The factory must have been a terrible sight that day." They stood in front of him, looking down. "A simple visit, only to be slaughtered behind the gates... Do you know why that happened?"

"I have no need to answer to you, you filthy vogel."

"My, my— I just saved your life, and that's how I'm repaid? Touching." The Owl giggled and put the bandages away. "It's because you were weak. Your family was weak."

"You’re wrong..."

"Am I? When people are unhappy, they turn to their perceived betters. They ask for help, and blame them when it doesn't work. And you were considered 'better', weren't you? Your father and mother had taken up the helm of leader when your grandparents passed, as if it was their responsibility to look after blood."

"You stop this instant...!" But Kanae felt the pain from his wound start anew, and he was cut off.

"Do you know the phrase, 'blood is thicker than water'? It's meant to denote that one should look after their blood relatives because others are just that: other. They are not important. They do not matter. Not when compared to your biology. The circumstances under which you were born. It’s a phrase that says the things in life you cannot control are most important one.

"I've always hated it, and you should too. Your parents abandoned you, so why are you trying to salvage their legacy?"

"Y-You're wrong." Kanae prided himself on his family name. The sacrifice his parents and siblings had made for him. They wanted him to live; he refused to deny their last request. "They didn't... I wasn’t—"

"They did. And you were. If they truly loved you, they would have cared to give you a better life. They would have run things better, made the workers happier. The fire of a rebellion cannot be staked and maintained without wood or oxygen, and yet here you are, a quarter of a way across the world, running around where you don't belong."

"Shut up!" With what remained of his strength, Kanae lunged, only for the Owl to sidestep and for him to eat dirt.

They laughed. "The full phrase is 'blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb'. Much better, see? Skill trumps talent. Our deeds matter more than our circumstances. It’s our choices that make us who we are.

"So let's see those choices, shall we? Your family, your blood, decided that running their company poorly was the most important thing. More than their own survival. More than you. In so choosing that path, they created the very situation leading to you coming here, in this alley, with a wound in your stomach and half the Tsukiyama family servants slaughtered.”

”Stop it, stop it!” Kanae shouted, but his voice grew weaker. “They were noble… and, and…!”

“And fixated on profit. Yes, how noble. The end point of capitalism, where lives, even yours, are just another thing to be traded and risked— like shareholders and their precious stocks. Disgusting, don’t you think?” The Owl trotted over to him, hovering just behind him as he lay on the asphalt. “Your parents gambled with your life against your will, whether you like it or not. So stop looking at the rosy water and face the truth—"

They reached down and grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking him up and making him gasp. They whispered in his ear as tears spilled down his cheeks.

"Your parents didn't love you."

—

After seeing to Kanae and the rest of the survivors’ wounds and transportation, Eto shed her disguise and returned to Kaneki’s apartment through the window (she said Kaneki’s because it was just a temporary arrangement; she couldn’t keep risking his life like this). It was late enough that he should be asleep, and she didn’t want to wake him unnecessarily.

She crept into the spare bedroom and stuffed the Owl into the corner before closing the door. On the opposite wall, on the stand with her computer, Papa’s head watched her, reminded her of her chosen path. Despite that, she leaned against the door and sank down, holding her head in her hands. She trembled as her speech about blood and water drowned her brain and spilled into her stomach, weighing her down with nausea.

”What’s wrong with me…?” she whispered, as if anyone would hear.

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

Hey, sorry if I’ve just missed it but is there a list somewhere of all the games that have characters in this bracket?

There is now! I've done it for the first bracket but not for this one, so here it is:

Fire Emblem: Three Houses (x12)

Baldur’s Gate 3 (x9)

Mystic Messenger (x8)

Arcade Spirits (x7)

Obey Me (x7)

Stardew Valley (x6)

Dragon Age: Inquisition (x5)

Monster Prom (x5)

Persona 5 (x5)

Coral Island (x5)

I Was a Teenage Exocolonist (x4)

Persona 3 (x4)

Boyfriend Dungeon (x4)

Romancelvania (x4)

Fire Emblem Fates (x4)

Blooming Panic (x4)

The Arcana (x4)

Potion Permit (x4)

Uta no Prince-sama (x3)

Arcade Spirits: The New Challengers (x3)

Mass Effect (x3)

Hooked On You: Dead by Daylight (x3)

Fallout 4 (x3)

Infinite Blue (x3)

Trouble Comes Twice (x3)

Fire Emblem Engage (x3)

TOUCHSTARVED (x3)

Tri City Monsters (x3)

Fire Emblem: Awakening (x2)

Code: Realize (x2)

Court of Darkness (x2)

XOXO Droplets (x2)

My Time at Sandrock (x2)

Cyberpunk 2077 (x2)

Our Life: Beginning and Always (x2)

My Time at Portia (x2)

Dragon Age 2 (x2)

Tears of Themis (x2)

Doki Doki Literature Club (x2)

Mass Effect: Andromeda (x2)

BUSTAFELLOWS (x2)

Titan Arum (x2)

Harvest Moon: A New Beginning (x2)

My Candy Love (x2)

The Witcher 3 (x2)

The Divine Speaker (x2)

Divinity: Original Sin 2 (x2)

Baldur's Gate 1&2 (x2)

Later Daters (x1)

Fallout: New Vegas (x1)

Monster Camp (x1)

Rune Factory 3 (x1)

Our Life: Now and Forever (x1)

It Lives in The Woods (x1)

Scarlet Hollow (x1)

Stray Gods (x1)

The Fernweh Saga (x1)

Story of Seasons: A Wonderful Life (x1)

It Lives Beneath (x1)

The Soul Stone War series (x1)

Seduce Me The Otome (x1)

Fields of Asphodel (x1)

Blood Moon (x1)

The Royal Romance (x1)

The Golden Rose (x1)

Re: Alistair++ (x1)

Persona 2 (x1)

Long Live The Queen (x1)

Dragon Age: Origins (x1)

Magical Diary: Horse Hall (x1)

My Horse Prince (x1)

Gilded Shadows (x1)

Obscura (x1)

Café Enchanté (x1)

Inuyasha: The Secret of the Cursed Mask (x1)

DRAMAtical Murder (x1)

A Villain's Twisted Heart (x1)

The Sims (x1)

GreedFall (x1)

Cryptid Crush (x1)

Postknight 2 (x1)

Sun Haven (x1)

Loren the Amazon Princess (x1)

Hustle Cat (x1)

A Date With Death (x1)

The Ssum (x1)

1931: Scheherazade at the Library of Pergamum (x1)

Dandelion -Wishes Brought To You- (x1)

Persona 4 (x1)

Intertwine (x1)

How Not To Become a Queen (x1)

Thorn for the Villain (x1)

Villainess Idolized By Everyone (x1)

Assignment Due: Project Blue (x1)

Silhouette (x1)

Story of Seasons: Trio of Towns (x1)

Mr Love (x1)

Heart no Kuni no Alice (x1)

Harvest Moon: More Friends of Mineral Town (x1)

Harvest Moon DS Cute (x1)

Story of Seasons: Pioneers of Olive Town (x1)

Number Days Sim Date (x1)

Cupid Parasite (x1)

Amnesia (x1)

Lover Pretend (x1)

Untold Atlas (x1)

Witches x Warlocks (x1)

OZMAFIA!! (x1)

Pokemon Black and White 2 (x1)

Blades of Light and Shadow (x1)

Life is Strange: Before The Storm (x1)

Life is Strange (x1)

Cinderella Phenomenon (x1)

Endless Summer (x1)

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim (x1)

Planescape: Torment (x1)

Changeling (x1)

The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe) (x1)

Heaven's Secret (x1)

Andromeda Six (x1)

Dracula: A Love Story (x1)

Path of the Valkyrie (x1)

Arcanum (x1)

Nameless ~The One Thing You Must Recall~ (x1)

Dialtown (x1)

Infamous (x1)

Crimson Spires (x1)

Birushana (x1)

The Wedding (x1)

When Life Gives You Lemons (x1)

Pillars of Eternity series (x1)

//TODO: today (x1)

Heart Fragment (x1)

[rosesloveletters]

rose petal

Thank you for asking, dear anon!

rose petal ౨ৎ what does your home look like?

As determined in canon, Wonka never leaves his factory. He has a private living space out of the way of the offices and factory portion of the sprawling complex known as Wonka Industries.

The photos below were collected from a canon scene in which I head canon depicts which part of the factory Wonka lives:

The building to the immediate right of the front gate, if you are standing where Charlie is, is the private portion of the factory where we live.

A tiny glimpse into our private life...

Before we met, Wonka's living area was sparse and humble, albeit a bit out-of-date and mismatched. Wonka has a very strong sense of style, however, interior decorating isn't on his radar in terms of importance. His space is quaint, though not as extravagant as one might expect from someone so wealthy.

He does have a television, though it is an older model that he rarely ever uses. All of his furniture are either family heirlooms or vintage pieces he has collected over the years and all are well-worn and well-loved. There are lots of bookcases filled with tomes of classic literature and poetry.

He and I both love blankets, so there are very many throughout our home, all mismatched and of differing/clashing patterns.

Even though he lacks a proper sleep schedule, Wonka believes in good sleep no matter when it happens, so he didn't cheap out on a proper, large bed and a comfortable mattress (seriously it's like sleeping on a cloud.) Lots of thick quilts, knitted throws, cotton sheets...so cozy.

Heavy, dark wood bedroom furniture.

Wonka has an insane mug collection. The most random assortment of mugs you'll ever see.

Most of what is in his living space are things he has collected throughout his life and have sentimental value.

He doesn't like clutter where he lives—he keeps his clutter contained in specific places.

questions sourced from kentoangel's little selfship ask game