#god i love. cultures and storytelling and .how every People hopes differently. augh

[blood-injections]

hiiiii wpuld llove to hear some funghoul thoughts if you gotany

I always have fun ghoul thoughts :)

His identity or like my headcanons for it kind of fluctuate because i tend to project on him a lot of the time lol, and right now my thing for him is its kinda inhuman, not literally, but he feels detached from being a person, his pronouns have always been he/it, and he says he/hims his favorite, but whenever someone uses it/its and he hears it he gets a crazy flush of euphoia. It doesn't happen often, though, just with his friends, and they only use it/its half the time cause, yknow, and its never opened up about just how it makes it feel, he could ask them to only say it and they would. But the rest of the zones? Eh. Even killjoys are weird about it/its a lot. And he still likes he as well

But yeah, he feels inhuman a lot of the time, and he likes that, he likes his identity being something Other, something scary, hes not sure if its something animal he feels like or something unknown, he just knows he'd rather lunge and bite in battle instead of shooting a gun, get blood and skin under his nails, it feels more natural, and he likes when people look at him like hes a monster and he should get to have sharp teeth and claws.

He loves stories!!! Stories and cultures!! Hearing and learning, and oral storytelling is such a big thing in the zones, with there being few books left and with most zoneborn not knowing how to read, like him, not zoneborn but raised on the streets in battery city, he can read some, but not well, and it just makes his head hurt. But ghoul grew up around androids and ritalin rats and the latter never had much on their minds but addiction, but the droids, well they had nothing to do but dream. And they told him stories, so many stories, stories of the future when the city would be free and they wouldn't have to rust in the streets, thrown aside by society, nothing more than products. They told it stories filled with hope, stories of Destroya, of the grafiiti bible, stories of a future where no one would have to work or starve or hurt.

Then he got to the zones and heard different kinds of stories, old ones, not of the future but of the past. It met Jet first, and theyd sit around a fire and shed tell him all about the desert, not about her own past, something it could guess was still a wound too fresh to face, much like his, when he first escaped. But she tells him of the zones, of the Phoenix Witch, how she takes masks or guns or keepsakes and leads your soul to your next life when you die, and how she commonly watches over the desert in the form of a raven, and hes fucking enraptured. And then jet takes it to visit dr d, a friend of a friend, and he gets to hear stories of the wars that he was never taught of in the city, and he gets to hear of the world before, because it has so many questions and dr d is more than willing to answer them, he loves Talking, telling stories, sharing what life used to be like.

And later, from Cherri, he learns older stories yet, myths and legends passed down from forgotten times, of giant birds that brought rain and thunder, to a myth of fire and a technicolor raven, stories of spirits and heroes and the desert itself. Everyone has stories to tell and it loves to hear them and pass them on, to Kobra, who especially loves the sort or stories he got from Cherri, of legends from an old people who were one with the land; and when the girl comes along and they take her in, he retells all the stories hes heard to her. Her favorites are of the world before the wars, things Ghoul never saw but learned of through dr d and older joys, of bustling citys not like bat city at all, of concerts with thousands of people in the stands, not just a small pit of joys, stories of people flying to the stars and landing on the moon, and of waterparks and airplanes, or high schools and ice cream trucks. By then he has stories of it's own, too, and she loves to hear those too, stories of bad firefights and hearty laughs, memories from the fab four before they had her, of poison doing something stupid or kobra getting sprayed by a skunk or that time jet woke up to find a mouse has nested in her hair in her sleep, the girl giggles the most at those stories.

He'd write novels if he could, if he the time and supplies and skill. Or he'd at least copy some of the stories hes heard back to paper, for when theres no one left that remembers them to tell them by voice alone.