#kitt screams into the void | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tainted-wine · 4 years

Note

Sooo...I've been reading through a lot of stuff lately and I felt like you were the best person to ask. There is no way in hell every bnha character eats pussy like a five star meal or hits the g-spot so hard their s/o squirts everytime. So my question is, who do you think genuinly sucks ass at sex regardless of effort.. like their s/o is just straight up not having a good time because they don't know how to sex properly. Thanks hun!

Oh I’ll show you not having a good time...

It’s too dangerous for Thirteen to spread her legs. One of her partners gave the classic and totally original “I bet it’s like throwing a hotdog down a hallway.”

Nah, it was more like throwing a hotdog into a void. A void that he’s still screaming in to this day.

We already know that the fingers are off-limits.

Maybe she can eat you out? Nope. That’s like asking Kirby to eat you out, except instead of gaining a new power, all she gets is the shame of killing another partner.

Look, I can’t believe Cementoss has had moments in the current arc that made me think “He looked kinda good in that panel”. Like I seriously found this fucking Thwomp attractive.

But I’m not going to ignore the possible fact that all of him is cement. If you enjoy the sensation of a rock-solid pillar hammering into your fragile snatch, then this is the man for you! Like, is his tongue cement? His saliva? If he licks you, are you getting cement inside your pussy and tomorrow you’ll suddenly have a concrete vagina?

Maybe he can make a dildo for you to use before it completely hardens. No, that’s hella hazardous. Nevermind.

I have the same concerns with ol’ Kamui Woods. Is he rockin literal wood? I know that wooden sex toys are a thing, but can he really make his limbs that smooth, safe enough to put inside a horny woman’s kitty? Maybe you have to bring some sand and spray materials to use on his dick before sex? You might have to look up some Youtube videos on how to do it properly, but hey, do it for your man.

Please let it be possible. I want tree sex straight out of an Evil Dead movie. The 80s version. The remake was legitimately horrifying...for me at least. I have no right to kinkshame if that got you going. ANYWAY MOVING ON.

Now you’re wondering, does Wash deserve to be on this list? You’re probably not wondering that at all.

HELL NO THEY DON’T.

Haven’t you heard all of those ‘masturbating on top of washing machines’ jokes?

Wash knows about setting the perfect speed. They know about using just the perfect amount of pressure. And when you cum and soak that sexy smooth surface, they’ll already have a fresh set of clothes for you to take out and wear. Pleasurable and convenient.

Wash fucks.

#asks #smut #thirteen #kamui woods #cementoss #bnha wash #I was probably NOT the best person to ask for this #this is less about who sucks at sex #and more about people who just CAN'T have sex #but uh...i hope you're entertained

179 notes · View notes

stuckonvenus · 3 years

Text

ℙ𝕖𝕥 𝕊𝕒𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 — 𝕊𝕡𝕠𝕥𝕚𝕗𝕪

Pet Salamander are an American alt-rock band formed in Las Vegas, Nevada, in 2017. The band consists of vocalist and lead guitarist Lionel Mercer, bassist Mickey Beckett, and drummer Thomas Kitt. Pet Salamander released their debut EP “Human Behavior” in 2017, but wasn’t signed onto Fueled by Ramen until 2020 when “7094″ became a worldwide hit.

ALBUM ANALYSIS

1. The opening track “Artifice” immediately solidifies the album as an ode to the grunge scene of the early 1990s. It’s a grimy, unpolished teenage soliloquy on the trials of living as a brainwashed youth in the modern age and attempting to stand out with your hands tied behind your back.

2. Following this gamy opening is the title track “Not Rated”, which is less to digest but still extremely filling. Half rock opera, half love sonnet to expletives, this song laments the absurdity of censorship and the writer’s disdain for the population’s obsession with political correctness — yet skews far enough to the opposite side of the spectrum to keep this from being an edgy piece of far-right propaganda.

3. “Half-Life” is a reference to the time required for a quantity to reduce to half of its initial value. The term is commonly used in nuclear physics to describe how quickly unstable atoms undergo radioactive decay or how long stable atoms survive. Its double meaning includes commentary on intimacy how it is affected by the lead singer’s bipolar disorder, which he’s openly spoken about in efforts to destigmatize the condition.

4. A purely instrumental piece, “Electronic Nonsense” is exactly what the name entails: opening with powerful synths, it quickly fades into a static guitar solo that pulses through you, eventually sizzling out in an epic finale of drums and thunderous bass lines.

5. “Wither or Not” is an existential thought piece and highlights the grimmest concepts you can find on this album; ranging from an apathetic outlook on generational trauma, nonspecific addiction, and worldwide atrocities that seem all but overplayed tropes to a 21st century teenager.

6. A sequel to its predecessor, “Is This All There Is?” chronicles the journey of a high school victim of suicide that encounters the void and is as similarly unimpressed as the unnamed narrator in “Wither or Not”. A half-spoken, quick-witted poem backed up by ethereal acoustic guitars give this track a glimpse to the older generations of the future they have created for the world.

7. Named after an early mainframe computer and the lead singer’s old locker combination, there’s no doubt as to how “7094″ was chosen as the album’s lead single. It’s catchy with guitars reminiscent of Radiohead’s Pablo Honey (1993) and a piano bridge that lessens the previous six tracks’ iron tight grip on grunge rock, dreamy instrumentals separating it from the rest while an undertow of lyrics describing a scientist’s descent into insanity after creating a machine smarter than mankind keep it from being totally isolated from the album’s theme.

8. “Carpe Noctem”, or ‘seize the night’, is a testament to the aching brevity and bittersweetness of falling in love with someone in only a matter of hours, particularly following a one night stand. Dry and punchy guitars permeate this track and accentuate the internal resentment found within oneself after submitting to such extreme hormonal urges.

9. A love letter to Las Vegas, the band’s home city, “Summerling” is a play-on-words, referencing the Summerlin suburb they grew up in Clark County. Recounting a childhood spent in the harsh Sierra Nevada and the strength they owe to the deserts which raised them. A lengthy bass line brings scraped knees, cacti prickles, and homesickness altogether into a resonant finale.

10. Mantling a God form, our late teenage narrator from tracks 5 and 6 returns in “Only the Dead Can Judge the Living” in a true homage to the band’s biggest influence: Nirvana. Opting to play variations of the song's melody as single note lines, in place of this track’s guitar solo is blues-based and discordant, almost an iconoclastic parody of the traditional instrumental break.

11. “26″ recounts the narrator’s experience with losing their virginity to someone over a decade older than them while cross-faded on pills and alcohol. The sound moves between spare bass-and-drum grooves and shrill bursts of screaming guitar and vocals; embodying anger, passion, forced deviancy, and the shattered remnants of a childhood that was never promised immortality.

12. The album’s closing track, “Afterthought”, leaves the listener on a peaceful cliff following the End of Days, teetering on the edge and allowing you to decide your own fate as the lyrics recall themes from each preceding track and the moral bankruptcy of the future that awaits them if they so choose to remain standing. Low-whispers and shimmering guitars encompass and coax the listener to either side before descending into madness, layered drums reverberating your skeleton and rearranging your atoms as the album abandons you feeling emotionally bereft and absolutely astonished.

#lionel — character study.#so much lore... so little space in these tags #i used gabe's profile bc i imagine he'd subject himself to the existential torture that is his hobbit boyfriend's band on the drive to vegas #does he notice lucy also listens to them? idk but she does #she cries to their music after she's broken up with #still dont know my thoughts on the cover of not rated but. there's a salamander in it #and YES i had to do little genius fuckin analysis comments for each mf song on a nonexistent album #i am committed to lore #wait i wonder which one would be gabe's favorite?? omg tell me #based on description alone because the sound doesnt exist

1 note · View note

davidlratliffstories · 4 years

Text

The Madness of Henry Wilmarth- Entry 1

October 23, 2287

At least that is the date this old, rattled Pip-Boy is telling me. Given the state it is in, that may not be accurate, but the Vault is not in any better shape itself, so maybe it is true. Maybe I am two hundred years in the future.

No, that is not possible. This is just some dream. Soon I will wake up in my favorite chair next to a now cold cup of tea in my peaceful home. None of this could be real. For god sake there are giant roaches crawling around.

Journaling helps me think. It always has since I was in my teens back in the fifties. It has been a good way of sorting my thoughts and calming my mind. I definitely need it right now.

It all started, or seemed to start, early in the morning. I was listening to Eartha Kitt singing on Atomic Radio as I made myself a hot cup of black tea, two sugars, and was about to settle into my favorite chair when that Vault-Tec Rep knocked on my door. He said that, due to the injury I had sustained during my service to the country, I was accepted for entrance into Vault 111 just up the hill nearby.

However, I would not say that my injury was sustained during service to my country. I never got to see combat. I never got out of basic. Some other recruit, rushing to formation with a loaded rifle, fell and blasted a round through my shin. Now, I walk with a limp and often need a cane when I leave the house.

I have been well taken care of, thankfully. The home in which I live here in Sanctuary Hills belongs to an old friend who made a big name for himself with RobCo Industries. He pays for most things, though he himself took to living out in Vegas near his idle Robert House.

I wish they had let me serve. I suggested that if I could have a suit of Power Armor, my mobility would not be an issue. They refused saying that if it ever ran out of power or got damaged in the field, I would just get captured by the enemy.

The Rep got me to fill out some paperwork, then went across the road to Nate and Nora’s place. Meanwhile, I settled into my chair, sipped my tea, and let the worries of the damaged world beyond my door drift away. But then, it happened.

A news broadcast cut in. The Reds had done it. The bombs were falling. Bright flashes. Explosions. New York and Pennsylvania were lost.

I jumped up and made for the door as fast as I could. In my panic, I left my cane behind and hobbled my way to the Vault. People were running, crying, and clinging to loved ones. Vertibirds soared overhead while soldiers shouted over the chaos.

A crowd had gathered at the gate to the Vault, but the way was blocked by more soldiers, heavily armed and armored. I called out to one nearby holding a clipboard and gave him my name. He looked over his list and found me there. They let me through and I just made it to the platform as a massive explosion sent a towering mushroom cloud into the sky. The platform sunk below the ground as a large shockwave blasted above us. A large metal door closed only just in time to shield us from it, plunging us into darkness.

Some time later, what felt like an eternity, we reached the bottom of the elevator. There we were met by a man claiming to be the Vault Overseer who greeted us and told us to head up the stairs into the Vault. “A better future underground”, he said.

We were all given blue jumpsuits with the Vault number printed on the back. Others were already there, crying over loved ones presumed lost in the attacks or simply contenting themselves in their own survival. Thinking now, I doubt my parents would have made it somewhere safe before the bombs fell. My friend may have made it into the Vault where he was. Come to think of it, he may very well be the reason I was allowed into this one.

I really should not think the worst, but then what does it matter. If this is all real, truly real, they would be long dead by now anyway. Everyone and everything I know, even my friend who had given me so much, would be gone.

Things get a bit fuzzy at this point. They told us to get into these pods and said it was to decontaminate us before heading farther in. I took off my glasses, stepped inside, and the doors closed. A feminine voice started counting down. I started to feel tired. Then there was a sudden flash of cold and everything went black.

A moment later, my vision cleared. I tried to move, but my body felt sluggish. I saw a man and woman walk past. There was someone yelling and a gunshot. Then I felt tired again. There was the same flash of cold and everything went black.

Another moment and my vision cleared again. The pod door opened and I collapsed to the floor. The voice from before was saying something about a malfunction.

I fumbled around for my glasses, but I could not find them. I did find a different pair sitting on the Overseers desk. They are not my prescription, unfortunately, but I can see better with them than without them.

No one else is moving. The computers say they are all dead. The walls are rusting and the paint is peeling. Skeletons, human beings, still in what is left of their clothing are scattered around. Then there are the roaches. The unnaturally large roaches.

I remember thinking that staying locked up in what is left of the Vault would be a waste of time. I knew I had to leave and go find someone, anyone, who could tell me what is going on, so I left. What came next, I still do not understand.

I used the Pip-Boy to open the Vault door. The elevator came down to meet me as I stepped out. I rode it back through the darkness up to the surface.

Upon arriving once more to the outside world, I was blinded by sunlight. Then, when my eyes adjusted and I could see again, I found myself looking out over an alien world, broken and desolate. It seemed that everything I knew was gone.

I was lost in the sight, until the sharp sound of static nearby pulled me back to my senses. Then I heard the voice of a child calling out, lost and afraid. Following the voice into the nearby wooded area, now dead and decaying, I thought only that there were others who had survived. I thought that I could find help. Then I saw it.

Unnaturally tall and thin, it blended in among the lifeless trees. Lengthy arms all but dragged along the ground as it moved. Its skin was stretched tight around its form like a mummified corpse. Where the neck and head would have been was a pole with two sirens mounted to it. Inside each siren were lipless, teeth filled mouths.

I froze. My breath stopped. My eyes stretched wide. All else dropped from my mind.

Then, a thick fog rolled in around me and the light faded into a deep darkness. The siren headed creature turned to me. The visage of the thing was all but hidden by the dark fog as it let out a screeching wail, forcing me to cover my ears.

From the fog came more sounds. New creatures rushed toward me. I turned to run, but a sharp pain through my leg dropped me to the ground.

Those things took that moment to leap upon me. They ripped, tore, bit, and clawed at my flesh. I tried to fight, but was overwhelmed. I tried to scream, but could not find my breath.

What was no doubt only moments of pain felt like an eternity. Then my strength dwindled, my vision faded, and I lost myself in the void. At least that is what it seemed at the time.

My eyes sprang open again only for me to find myself back at the bottom of the elevator as if I had never left. Not knowing what to make of what just happened, or seemed to happen, I retreated back into the Vault. Now I am just sitting here on the Overseers bed wondering what to do, even what to think.

Was that a dream? Is this a dream? Am I still trapped in that pod or will I wake up in the comfort of my favorite chair? Lastly, if this is not a dream, if all of this is real, how am I going to survive and not lose what sanity I may still have left?

#fallout 4 #story #horror #the madness of henry wilmarth #roleplay

1 note · View note

vampyremoji · 6 years

Text

time for a fantastic kitt and where to find me post i guess

vampyremoji is also my twitter, where i mostly tweet lowkey meta, scream into the void or tweet during classes. usually private i’ll toss it open for a bit

and once it comes back u can def find me on my pillowfort which is just kitt

#i’ll reblog this a few times #mb ill acfually work up the guts to talk to mutuals on twitter!#text

3 notes · View notes

kaoruyogi · 6 years

Text

C’est Si Bon

I saw this post yesterday about a 1950′s AU Cullen, and this morning I woke up with the full story in my head. So here it is! It’s a little long, so I put part of it under a cut for the sake of people’s dashes.

For @lyrium-blossom , @kagetsukai , @mssaboteur , @ladydragon1316 , @veritasrose, @laraslandlockedblues , and anyone else who’s interested!

Pairing: Cullen Rutherford x Belle Dolan (1950′s AU one shot)

Rating: T for Teen

Today would be the day. Cullen decided it as he rose from his old bed in his old room in his parents’ old house. Today would be the day he ventured out. He had been outside since coming back, but he also had not. He had yet to journey beyond the corner three houses down.

Fear kept him at home those six months. It was not a rational fear, he decided about two months into his self-imposed confinement. But it was fear, nonetheless.

He ran his fingers through his hair and puffed out a humorless laugh at himself. He was what they called a “POW.” Pee-Oh-Doubleyou. Prisoner of war. Captured and kept alive. Alive as his enemy saw fit to keep him. As it happened, they chose not to keep him very alive. They locked him away, fed him food they told him over and over was poisoned until he was so starved he ate it anyway because even death would be better than the void in his gut, tortured him, tortured his platoon, killed them one by one.

His puff of a dead laugh was not aimed at all that, but at the irony of his present condition. All he could think of when he was over there was his freedom. Now he had it, and all he was doing with it was locking himself up afresh. Self-inflicted isolation.

So, today would be the day. Cullen dressed simply, comfortably. White cotton tee shirt, tired blue jeans, black and white sneakers—the left one had a smudge on it he reminded himself to clean later—and his black leather jacket. The jacket would not have been his first choice for outerwear before he went over there, but now it helped. His brother gave it to him when he got back. Said it was for luck. Cullen hadn’t the faintest idea how a jacket could be lucky, but then he still kept at least one of his dog tags on his person at all times. So he took the jacket, and today he wore it.

He left his room. The first step. His mabari, Charles, followed him through the house. Cullen was the only person in that house who called the dog by his proper name. All his siblings insisted on calling him Charlie. Cullen found it quite irksome. He petted Charles on the head twice.

Cullen gave himself a onceover in the bathroom mirror before he left the house. His mother always told him he was such a handsome boy, and he might once have been. But a scar—a remnant of the dozens or hundreds or thousands of beatings he suffered—now marred his face. It rose from his upper lip to his cheekbone, pink and shiny and horrible. He did not like the man staring back at him. He put a hand over the glass before he walked away.

He brought Charles with him when he left. The poor mabari had not been on a proper walk in ages, and it was as good an excuse as any to have him at Cullen’s side. The large gray dog rarely left Cullen’s side, as it happened. It gave him great comfort to have Charles with him as he walked, like taking a piece of home with him into a vast and terrifying wilderness of concrete and brick and people.

Cullen walked past the corner. He walked down the street. He nodded his greeting to an elderly neighbor as she watered her begonias. He approached Main Street. He gripped Charles’s leash tight in his fist, doing his best to ignore the onslaught of noise around him. Screaming children. Metal roller skate wheels grinding on cement. The rumble of the occasional passing Cadillac.

To his surprise, he arrived on Main Street without incident. He watched Charles watch their surroundings, and it put him a touch more at ease knowing someone had his back. Together they passed Adan’s Pharmacy. Then they passed Sims Grocers, Cabot’s Malts N’More, two beauty salons, the cinema, and the library. They made it all the way to town hall without a word or glance from anyone.

Cullen thought he had done quite enough for today. He and Charles turned around to head home the same way they came, feeling rather accomplished they had come so far. Even Charles held his head a little higher.

As they approached the library, the front door opened. A young woman, about his age, exited the building. She wore a dress the color of a robin’s egg covered in tiny white dots, and it swayed wide around her pale calves as she walked. Her slightly curved nose was buried in an open book, and her red hair was gathered into a ponytail, forming a single fat curl that brushed her collar. He could not see her entire face, but he would know her anywhere.

Belle. She was the girl he grew up admiring. As children, they went to the nearby lake with their classmates to swim in the summers. He used to watch her red hair in the sun as it dried into wild but gentle curls and listen to her boisterous laugh. In high school, he walked her home on Thursdays. It was out of his way by several blocks, but he never said a word about that. He listened to her talk about all the magnificent things she wanted to do with her life, and he did his best to bring out her boisterous laugh for himself. She smiled at him once while she sang her solo in the school choir. She embraced him once after his parents died. She kissed him once in the dark after their last high school dance. He left the smudge of her too-bright lipstick on his mouth until the next morning.

Cullen’s heart tightened in his chest as she approached him. He had not seen her since before he shipped out to basic training. What if she grimaced when she saw him? What if she disliked the man he had become? What if he was so broken and wrong she did not recognize him at all?

But all those questions proved pointless. Belle’s attention was so rapt on the contents of her book, she walked right past him. He heard her humming while she went. “C’est Si Bon,” by Eartha Kitt. His sister, Mia, played the tune once when her boyfriend, Marcus, came over for dinner. Cullen was not one for anything Orlesian, but he liked the song well enough.

Against his better judgment, Cullen called after her. “Belle,” he said once at too low a volume. When she did not turn, he said it again, much louder.

Belle gasped hard, and her book tumbled from her hands onto the sidewalk. Guilt filled Cullen’s gut at the sight. She whirled around with a blend of shock and ire on her face. It melted away the moment she laid her hazel eyes on him. She smiled. His heart leapt into his throat.

“Cullen,” she said, and she rushed back toward him, leaving her book on the sidewalk. “I’m so happy to see you!”

“I-It’s good to see you too, Belle,” he said. He felt foolish under her gaze. It was a silly notion to call out to her like that. He had no idea what to say to her.

“It’s been a long time. You look well.” She meant it. He did not expect her to mean it.

Before he could reply, she cast her eyes down and let out a happy, “Charles!” Cullen had forgotten she was the only other person that called the mabari by his proper name. Belle knelt down to pet the dog. “It’s been much too long since I’ve seen your handsome face, Charles.” Charles grunted and licked her hand, and she only just managed to stop him licking her face as well.

“You look very well, too,” said Cullen as she stood.

“Thank you.” She paused for three seconds too long, her eyes wandering over his face. They were beautiful eyes. “I missed you, you know,” she finally said. “You never told me when you were shipping out. I would’ve come to see you off. Given you something for good luck or…something.”

“Ah, yes, I—” His free hand reached up to rub the back of his neck. An old habit. “I’m sorry. At the time, I didn’t think it was much to fuss over. I thought I…I thought I would be back sooner.”

Belle smiled again, exposing the wide pointed canines she had ever since her baby teeth fell out. “It’s alright. I probably would have cried all over you anyway. Turned into a damn sobbing mess and not let you get on the bus. So it was probably for the best.” She was the first non-adult he ever heard curse when they were young. She had not changed a bit.

“I missed you, too,” said Cullen before he could stop the words leaving his mouth. Surely, she would think him too forward now. She would leave, and he would never see her again but for the occasional casual coincidence.

But she laughed. She laughed her boisterous laugh, and something fluttered in his chest. “Well, good! I’m glad to know my missing wasn’t one-sided.” She laid an absent pat on Charles’s ribs. He panted happily at the loud thump it made. “Let me buy you a malt or a Coke or something,” she said after a moment. “Cabot still likes me, and he’ll let me take a couple of his glasses to the park or something so we can catch up. If you’re up for it, that is.”

“That won’t be necessary. I can pay fo—”

“Hooey. I’m buying. To make up for the good luck gift I never got to give you. I won’t hear another word about it except ‘yes,’ and ‘thank you, oh wonderful, kind, fabulous Belle.’” She lifted her chin with her superior little grin.

Cullen chuckled. He had not laughed much lately. “Alright,” he said. “Yes. Thank you, oh wonderful, kind, fabulous Belle.”

“Ha!” She clapped once. “Good! Oh.” She turned and ran two short steps to recover her library book, and she dusted it off on her two short steps back. She hooked her arm over his crooked elbow, smiled up at him, and said, “Shall we?”

“Of course,” he said, and the three of them began their walk together.

Today would be the day.

*****

#i couldn't help myself #no one asked me #but here you go #cullen #cullen rutherford #commander cullen #cullen x belle #belle dolan #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #fanfic #50's au

36 notes · View notes

transtrendhumanity · 7 years

Text

system check in time! today your host is cilla, but callon is around as well.

tyto is settling in very well at skye’s cabin. skye is a much more active teacher than corian was, and while tyto likes them both, ey enjoys the attention. aloe seems to slowly be adjusting to having a new person in the house.

gail is.. like bizarrely happy actually. it really enjoyed the ice screams from the winter episode of hnk. out whereever void is, ooze ocean seems to be doing alright as well.

callon has come out of crisis mode and now ey has a bunch of projects and activities ey wants to do as meticulously as possible. ey’s in vaccine’s room, pacing and talking about them. vaccine isn’t really paying attention.

vyrn isn’t in xyr own room, which is probably for the best. xe seems to be curled up napping in the lobby, behind the stairs. despite being in a small space and on the floor, xe looks comfortable.

i have some difficulty accessing the living room in azdien’s mansion today. i know darion is in there, and i think azdien is in vaer reading chair today. drohen is also there. but i can’t tell if anyone else is in there, and i can’t open the door wide enough to check.

i circle around back to the library. elster is teaching tobias how to pick locks, which seems incredibly dangerous, but they’re both having a good time so i guess it’s fine. i ask elster if ze’s seen the others around, and ze mentions that trysten went to visit nika.

i can sense kisoquine in xyr own room, which is where xe belongs.

micah is back to playing the snake from adam & eve, tempting all passerbys with “secrets.” i have no idea what kind of secrets they possess and tbh i’m not that curious right now. i think they just like... doing this.

peeking into the dining room again, this time from the back door, i ask where jody is, and drohen informs me that they’re spending time with kayden and nitexx. i thank them for the info, and circle back around to leave.

it has snowed twice out in the real world, and it is starting to flurry in here as well. unlike gail’s winter, it’s a gentle feeling. nika’s pond is frozen over at the edges, but not all the way through. there’s a layer of snow on the branches of the fir trees near corian’s cabin, one last gift from tyto before ey left.

inside the cabin, corian has a fireplace going. i hadn’t noticed it before, but i can’t confidently say that it’s new. i don’t think it’s in an architecturally sound location, but that doesn’t seem to matter.

nine is curled up atop the back of the chair closest to the fire. corian is fixing up some tea in the kitchen. it takes me a while to make out cer shape, but yacinthe is here too, today. it seems like ce wants some counselling from corian, although i’m not entirely sure they’re the right person to turn to.

upstairs, nika, trysten, and ethan are still flipping through wedding magazines. they seem a bit sluggish today though.

in the basement, ailecent has returned to a much more human form, and is discussing fire emblem tactics with kestrel.

on my way out, i realize that aren is sitting in corian’s living room as well. he’s an imposing presence, so i’m not entirely sure how i missed him. yacinthe seems a bit nervous, but no one else does.

back to the main house. i enter through the side door to vex and jace’s room. vex is still fussing over our scrapbook. jace seems to be settling in to work on some graphics.

venic is sulking in the back about vaccine and callon not hanging out with kyr.

kye tells me that tyto promised that when ey’s done eir studies, ey’ll visit, and the four gems in system will be able to hang out together.

in nitexx’s room, jody is giving kayden a hands-on lesson in professional recording. while they have maybe a third of the equipment necessary, it looks like most of their set-up is just nitexx’s karaoke console with some modifications. nitexx is trying to help, but zir experience is.. unhelpfully eccentric.

amelia is a bit sad that we can’t knit right now. it seems like echo and perien feel the same way. floret can’t quite relate, but ce’s being supportive. gabbi is standing in the kitchen, but rather than making food, ne’s staring thoughtfully at the walls. i think ne’s planning to see if ne can make an aquarium for rayn in the main house. it would be a lot more effort than vaccine’s jellyfish walls, but with winter coming, it would be a shame to leave rayn down in the ocean, even if its shoreline tends to stay warm year-round.

rayn is extremely excited about the new pokemon game. it would spend hours surfing if it fronted, probably. it’s also, somewhere between excited and anxious about the aquarium plans. it’s worried that they won’t pan out. i reassure it that just about all of the modifications we’ve planned out for headspace have gone through eventually.

back in the main house, i head upstairs. remm’s door is more open than usual, and ve’s wearing vir new dress, looking rather pleased with it. when ve catches me staring, ve hisses at me to go away.

in nessie and riley’s room, nessie is doing her nails again. she seems bored and a bit annoyed. riley is upstairs, working on... a day planner i think? si seems to be having a good time, but i get the impression that sil working on that has had sil neglecting nessie, which is the cause for her weird mood.

on my way back out, i notice raliel in remm’s room. i always forget that remm gets along with anyone, but i guess raliel can be just enough of a vicious gossip to get on the same wavelength as vir. i suggest to nessie that she join them. she glares at me, but i think she eventually will.

downstairs, vite is coming in as i leave. zie is going to help gabbi with the aquarium, but i think they’ll end up having to rely on aren a fair bit.

i head up to the treehouse. nero and kitt are napping together on the couch. kei is casually playing super mario 3 on the console.

i think that’s just about everyone? im heading back to the main house to mourn our inability to knit this month with amelia and echo. i imagine callon will take front again, and depending what we end up getting up to i imagine we’ll have some sort of cofront.

#[roll call]

1 note · View note

beardcore-blog · 5 years

Text

Mothpoint #9- Family Feud

*It felt wrong, locking them up, but Simon didn’t have any other choice. He was sure if he let them go, they’d kill him. Or, he’d have to kill them, and he couldn’t live with himself if it came to that*

Thawne- -name is Chronos.

Simon- Huh?

Thawne- *sigh* The time traveller on Pike’s payroll. I should have known.

Simon- Who… who is he?

Thawne- A long time Atom foe, went off the grid a few years ago. Palmer, that is the Atom, damaged his time belt, stranding him in the void. A space outside of time, when a timeline has been overwritten. Spent a millennia there before he managed to break out, and when he did… he was different. Picked up some temporal abilities, clairvoyance, the usual. Made him even more annoying

Simon- This Chronos guy, why would he help Pike?

Thawne- Why would you?

Simon- What?

Thawne- She’s still breathing. It would have been one less thing to worry about, now wouldn’t it?

Simon- I’m not you.

Thawne- And they’re not them. Stop treating them as such.

Simon- *They* are my family.

Thawne- Touching. But wrong

*No. Thawne was wrong, he was a trickster, a liar and a monster thought Simon. He had to get through to her. He knew if he got through to her, then the world was fixable. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he just knew. While he waited for her to wake up, he was working on a new costume. Old costume? It would be the same style he wore up to the City of Fear incident. Very classic. Bright pink and yellow, trunks, eyes instead of a visor. It was his most “heroic” look, even if he preferred his current suit for a myriad of reasons. He was hoping he’d finish before she awoke, but alas he heard her struggle against her bonds behind him as he worked, and he managed to turn around and face what he’d done only when he heard the chair fall over. He walked over and gingerly righted her. She spat at him.*

Emi- Get me out of here. Now.

*He closed his eyes, took a deep breath.*

Simon- Emi-

Emi- Go on then, how do you know my name?

Simon- We’re… Emi, this is going to sound crazy, but… Emi, you and I… We… we’re boyfriend and girlfriend. In an alternate timeline.

*Suddenly Emi laughs, loud, harsh, a sound Simon had never heard from her, not like this. It was a cruel laugh, sarcastic*

Emi- I’m not buying it. You think I’m stupid enough to go out with you? In this, or any time!

*He sighed, and returned to his work station. He’d been in a lot of crazy scenarios before. But altered timelines? That was new. He had thought himself immune to that all-encompassing phobia, the fear of change. He had thought wrong. Maybe, when he fixed everything, he’d visit Arkham and ask Doctor Crane about that… Or Professor Strange? Maybe there was a psychiatrist somewhere in Gotham who wasn’t insane…*

Emi- Look, freak, you don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into. Green Arrow’ll be here any minute and ohhhhhh man we are going to have some fun with you.

Thawne- You’re referring to your tracking device? The one you hid in the heel of your boot? First thing the kid did was destroy it. Waste of parts, if you ask me…

Simon- Could you-?

Thawne- Sorry, should I leave you "love birds" alone?

Emi- Ok, so maybe you do know my secrets. What good’s that gonna do ya? Do you even have a plan, or am I just gonna die of old age?

Thawne- I have a plan. No idea what the kid’s is though.

Simon- Really?

Thawne- I’m going.

Simon- Sorry, he’s… it’s complicated

Emi- Seems like a recurring problem

Simon- Well, I …am working on a plan. You’re not actually part of it – yet! If you’d like to help me, that’d be great, but for now, I just wanted to have someone to talk to. Not him, I can’t… You, I wanted you to talk to. Or I’ll just listen to you. Even when you’re being mean, I can’t not love you.

*He was pretty sure Thawne put his palm to his forehead at that point. Admittedly, it wasn’t Simon’s best line*

Emi- Oh. My God, you are by far the most naïve supervillain I’ve ever dealt with. How the hell are you one of the best enforcers of Gotham’s underworld.

Simon- That’s what I’m saying, I’m not.

*He had finally got the antennae on, those were always the trickiest, and thus the costume was complete. He stepped out of the room to change, then leapt back in with a dramatic “Ta-da!” Upon which Emiko burst out laughing, again.*

Simon- You don’t like it? You always liked it before…

Emi- AhahahahohmyGod. Oh my God. That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen.

*Simon looked down, dejected, then pulled a chair over, in front of Emiko. He sat down, removed his mask, and looked at her.*

Emi- What do you think you’re doing?

Simon- -I need to know that…that you’re my Emi. Maybe I’m wrong and I can’t fix everything. But Jay, Jay always told me you-you get the lightning rod and that keeps you grounded and so if I can-can get through to you I’ll be able to fix everything.

*The words were hard to get out. The idea that maybe he couldn’t fix everything, that maybe he couldn’t get her back. It killed him.*

Emi Get me. The fuck. Out of this cell. You stupid. Piece of shit.

*He dropped his mask on the floor, put his head in his hands, and started to weep. He would still try and find a solution, but he wasn’t going to get through to her now, was he?*

Emi- Oh my God, you’re crying? Over some mean wittle words? Geez, what’ll you do when I throw you in Arkham?

*In that moment, he bolted up from the chair*

Simon- Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up!

*He had never yelled with that much anger…ever. And certainly not at her. He saw the brief flash of fear in her eyes, even as she hid it. What did he look like to her, he wondered. Was that that other him, breaking through, or was he always like this? Was this what was always beneath the surface? No wonder Charaxes wanted him… He reached back for the chair, tried to sit down, instead he just fell down on the ground. He lay back fully, put his hands over his eyes and began to laugh. The laugh became a scream and then, silence. He stood himself up, picked up his mask, looked at her one last time, for now he tried to tell himself, then he put on his mask and left the room*

Thawne- *Sigh* Young love…

*Simon wanted to hit him so badly, if only he had speed… Then he could kill him, like he killed him, over and over and over. But then he realised that it simply wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth it. Right now Thawne was his only hope. Emi wasn’t going to help him. And so, he slumped out of that room too, ignoring his companion’s mocking "tutting," defeated to be met with his father’s face. Kinda. It was peculiar. His mask bore a striking resemblance to the Arkham Moth’s; both were green, both had dark rebreathers, and both had yellow, tinted visors Simon was sure hid an inner pain. Perhaps that was how, if not to Emi, he could appeal to his dad. Perhaps*

Drury- Went well, did it?

Simon- What was in the vial?

Drury- It doesn’t matter, does it?

Simon- It matters to me.

Drury- *You* don’t matter. If you don’t mind, I’d rather await my impending doom, then listen to you right now.

…

Simon- I know about your friends. Gar, and Mira-

Drury- Don’t you speak their names. Don’t you dare. What, did you think we’re equal or something, you think we can talk now because you know my tragic backstory? The friends that I’ve lost-! … Who told you anyway, your pal Carson?

…

Simon- I’m… I’m sorry.

Drury- Hnh. I don’t care.

…

Simon- Carson’s not my friend or anything. In case you thought-

Drury- Hmph.

Simon- He blew me up once.

Drury- You look pretty good considering.

Simon- What happened Drury. What really happened?

…

Drury- I was drunk. Gar was drunk. Miranda was- We were all drunk, we were on our way back from a play, Les Miserables- yeah, don’t look surprised, I’m a theatre buff. The radio was glitching in and out… thought it was a horror channel, turns out, it wasn’t.

Simon- The Blackest Night.

Drury- I wasn’t watching the road, in-between arguments with Gar, and trying to switch off the radio, I swerved, careered off of a cliff. I got off alright, but them? Miranda had fallen, she wasn’t going to make it. And what about Gar, eh? Well. Heh.

*He takes his mask off, his face shadowed. He wipes a single tear from his eye, and continues*

Drury- He hadn’t got out the car, don’t know if he even coulda, heck by that point it was on fire, blazing even. But he wouldn’t move. He just… sat there, seatbelt still buckled- burning, entranced by the flames. I tried pulling him out, I really did, but it was too late. I shoulda watched the road, yet I- I killed them. And then, then they came back. Black, grey, dead, like the rest of those so called ‘Black Lanterns’….

*Drury takes a step forward, Simon a step back, he knew it was coming but there it was. His dad’s face. Scarred, burned all on one side, not unlike Two-Face’s, one eye dead, the other filled with regret. Never before had Simon felt so much… pity for his father*

Drury- I watched them die, then I watched them be perverted, transformed into zombies by some necromancer, and they spoke to me. Mocked me. Blamed me. And y’know, they were right. Was that what you wanted to hear?

…

Drury- I’ve answered your questions, suppose it’s my turn. Who, are you?

…

Simon- My name is Simon. Simon… King.

Drury- Simon. I always liked that name…

Simon- You ever considered naming Ax- your son that?

Drury- My son-? I… I put my kids into foster care. They deserve better than I could give them. Axel, and Kitte- Katie. Heh.

…

Simon- I didn’t grow up with my father, but… I idolised him. I still felt like I knew him. Every news report, every article, I watched it all. My dad was one of the "greats"… Two years ago, I finally met him. He wasn’t that legend. In fact, he was better than I could imagine.

Drury- Why’s that?

Simon- He was kind. He was good. Yeah, he did bad crap, yeah he hurt people, but he always did it for his family, and for his friends. He was there for them. Like you should be for your kids.

Drury- I don’t deserve them.

Simon- They deserve a father, don’t they?

…

Drury- Your old man, what happened to him?

…

Simon- I lost him. ==== *It was for the best, he knew that. But it hurt all the same, like a bullet in his chest. Granted, he did have a bullet in his chest, so that might just be that that stung, but he doubted it. He had spent a good minute staring at that keypad, going back and forth on it, before finally, he put in the code he’d set. It was her birthday*

Simon- You’re… you’re free to go.

Emi- This is a trick, right?

Simon- No. Please.

*Emi stared at him, and the pain returned- having her look at him like he was nothing was worse than any wound, that was now a certainty. She climbed out the window, and then, she was gone. Simon walked quietly back to the main cortex*

Thawne- Did you do it?

*Simon doesn’t say anything. Thawne smiles, and nods*

Thawne- Good boy. This, is our key to getting out of this mess.

*Thawne picks the courier up from the workbench. It’s heavily modified*

Thawne- This is a hypertime tracker. Alone, it’s useless, but combined with DNA, it can track that person’s movements across time, to the last place they travelled.

Simon- Then, it’s nearly over…

Thawne- Aside from your daddy issues, the Fireflies and Bane, yes. Yes it’ll be over, but first, we need Chronos.

——– Credit to Brute, who wrote the framework of the Simon/Emi conversation back when this story was just a concept. It’s been heavily adapted since, as new characters and plot lines were introduced

Posted by Duncan C. Young on 2019-02-09 14:16:23

Tagged:

The post Mothpoint #9- Family Feud appeared first on Good Info.

0 notes