#like blood from a stone

[star-wolfboy]

[bueckersverse]

my current fav song is, "like blood from a stone" by old gray i love it sm yall should listen to it

[nuagederose]

part two of my something of an advent calendar ❄️

Nelly, Christine, and Alex in front of Chris’ grave

John and Tina on the bus to West Virginia

l’chaim!

“dying of a broken heart”

the return of “Billy Crystal”

[feverinfeveroutfic]

like blood from a stone | chapter forty-eight

(ao3 title: nearly forgot my broken heart)

The desert heat parched my tongue, my throat, and my lips. I woke up somewhere in the sand dunes with the wind at my back, and I knew that I had to get to shelter somehow. I had been stripped of my clothes, and because of this, every single step was one riddled with hot sand right up my ass and the backs of my thighs. Though I was alone, I still folded my arms over my chest, and I kept my body stooped forward to protect myself from the harsh winds around me. It felt as though I was being sandblasted every single step of the way. 

I was naked and even that wasn’t enough to stop me from sweating like a complete pig.

My hair spread over my shoulders, and a huge chunk spread over my face once I reached the next crest of the dune before me. I swallowed, and I thought my throat was going to close up. I needed something to drink yesterday, or whenever I had come on out there to the dunes. Miles and miles and miles of dunes and nothing else to see. 

I had no idea what country I had even landed in.

I reached the crest and peered out to the trough down below, and I swore that it was nothing more than a mirage down in the hot sands, but then the sand hit the outside windows of the second floor of the building. A diamond in the sand, surrounded by palm trees and warm-looking peacock blue waters of a pool, and I noticed the big glass front doors stood wide open to let everyone inside, a safe haven away from the immense heat and the scorched sands that were beginning to dig away at my body.

I cupped my hands over my crotch, and I hurried down the side of the dune towards the front doors. I caught the sound of slot machines inside there, as well as the clanking of billiards balls. I never thought I would find a place like that in the sprawling miles and miles of sun baked sands: even Vegas had its mountains to insulate it in from the rest of the Mojave Desert.

I nearly tripped and lost my balance, but I caught myself before anyone inside could see my dick or the back of my ass. I stood at the entrance, and I let the wind billow my hair over my shoulders. I looked on at my shadow as it spread over the lush red carpet. I hoped that no one would question or even so much as notice the half-Native American boy who had been absolutely torn to pieces walking through the intense heat of the desert.

If nothing else, I needed to be inside and have a good long drink of water.

I took one step forward, and the red carpet kissed the burned soles of my feet. It was as if I was walking over water, as red as the blood that flowed through me. If I didn’t know better, I swore that my blood had dried out and washed out before me onto the expansive floor.

Much to my surprise, the casino didn’t smell of cigarettes or of liquor. It did, however, smell of chemicals, as if they had just cleaned every inch of the place. It wasn’t making my eyes water, but it was enough to make me feel as though I was treading dirt through the entire front corridor of the place. Beyond the slot machines, tucked up inside of the walls, I could see the stacks of gold coins behind the windows of thick glass. I was lost in a world of gold out in the middle of the desert.

No one at the machines or even in the next rooms over, the rooms with the roulette wheels and the blackjack tables, seemed to be looking in my direction. I reached the end of the corridor, and I spotted the brightly lit bar off to my right. Still with my hands cupped over my crotch, I padded over the carpet and onto the smooth, freshly polished stones which made up the floor.

Neon illuminated the crown of the bar as well as the backsplash of the bar itself, but when I laid my eyes on the glass bottles up there, it made complete sense to have that bright pink and blue lighting all around me. Out of breath and still dry as a bone, I took my spot at the bar right before the bartender with a white towel slung over his shoulder.

“Dry country,” he informed me, and I nodded.

“It’s okay, I don’t really drink,” I replied to him with a straight face. I ran my fingers through my hair: even with the immense desert heat around me, I hadn’t broken out a sweat. In fact, I was amazed that no one said anything to me about walking about the place in the buff. I pinned my knees together as I remained there on the barstool. “Can I get some coconut water please?”

“Small or large?”

“Small. I have traveled far without a drop to drink. I need to ease myself into it.”

“Very wise choice,” he assured me with a wink, and he turned to the speedwell next to him to begin serving that up for me. I propped my chin up in the palm of my hand, and all the while, I thought about Chuck. I needed to think of a plan to break them up, but at the same time, I had no idea if I was even awake or even anywhere close to the Bay Area again. In fact, I had no idea if they even knew I was there or how I even found my way over there.

The thought of him being married to his best friend, and when they had been arranged into the whole thing no less, left me with a sinking feeling in my chest, perhaps more so than the feeling that my own broken heart and nauseated stomach had given unto me. The bartender returned to me with a little coconut in hand and one of those little paper umbrellas on the side. Inside of there, I caught the aroma of coconut itself even though I was looking at nothing more than a small pool of water.

I sipped on the coconut water, and it caressed the back of my throat to the point it tickled.

I turned my head to view the window on the right side of the room: there was that pool with the soft-looking blue waters.

If nothing else, I wanted to be out in those pool waters, but at the same time, I worried about it being a shock to my body, though. I had been walking through the desert with the blast of sand and hot winds all around me: it was bad enough that I sat in that casino with the air conditioning vent on my head and shoulders, and I was already beginning to feel cold.

“You are going to get it so good,” a voice said right into my ear. I turned my head to find Eric right there next to me: he had been suspended up onto crutches. When I lowered my gaze to the rest of his body, I noticed the castes and the bandages about his legs from the knee downward. His long smooth black hair swept about his shoulders and his upper back like a curtain.

“I’m going to get it good?” I echoed him as he took his spot next to me on the neighboring stool, albeit with a bit of a struggle given his castes were as stiff as boards. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re going to get it,” he repeated with a straight face. “You fell on your sword and landed on the cold linoleum.”

“I have a faulty heart, remember?” I recalled to him, slightly frustrated.

“Of course. But that’s not what it looks like to us, though. We swore that you fell on your sword and now you’re dead.”

“Wait.” I stopped in my tracks. “I’m dead?”

“Clinically speaking, yeah,” he continued in nonchalant fashion. The bartender moseyed on up to him with a coconut in hand; Eric thanked him and took the virgin piña colada for himself. Slowly, he sipped on the drink and locked eyes with me.

“So, I’ve died,” I followed along, “and that’s why I’m here?”

“No, no, no, you’re here because you need someone to talk to,” he corrected me. “You have more feelings for Chuck than anyone seems to realize.”

“Do you realize that?” I questioned him.

“Of course. Lou and I both are fully aware of it. We wouldn’t do the things for you the way that we have if we didn’t know anything about it.”

I dropped my gaze to the castes and the bandages wrapped about his legs, and he looked to be struggling to even so much as sit upright there on the smooth metal stool there next to me.

“What happened to your legs?” I asked him.

“It’s a long story,” he sheepishly answered with a shake of his head.

“Where’s Lou?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“It’s an even longer story.”

I squinted my eyes at him. “Will I ever wake up?”

“Depends,” he answered with a shrug of his shoulders. “How determined are you?”

“Determined enough,” I assured him as I held the coconut up to my lips for a good long swig of the fresh cool water within there. I gave my hair a toss back over my shoulder and locked eyes with him. “Determined enough to confess to you that I’m not ready to die as of yet. I need to wedge myself in between Chuck and Alex, because I know they don’t want to be together, even as much as they might love one another as brothers. I need a new heart and I need to gather my strength again. And I’m going to give Metallica a run for their money, too.”

“As you should,” Eric encouraged me. “Lars and Cliff are getting antsy from what I can tell. James is breathing down their necks.”

I turned my attention to the window again, and the waters out there were still as smooth as glass.

“Wanna go for a swim?” I offered him.

“Can’t,” he replied, and he gestured down to his legs. “You can, though.”

I downed the rest of the coconut water, and I set the coconut itself down on the bar. I ran my fingers through my hair, and then I stood up and kept my hands over my crotch. I ducked past the bar with Eric right behind me like a shadow that followed me around everywhere.

I stood out there on the cool but hard concrete, with my feet still in agony from walking about those hot sands, and I looked on at the waters before me. I stood at the edge of the pool and moved my hands away from my body as if to prepare myself for the plunge. Instead, I looked down to the water’s surface and at my own reflection.

I was a vain bastard with the broken heart, and all I could do was look on at my own reflection.

I opened my eyes, and my vision blurred. Eric had disappeared back into my mind: nothing more than my own hallucinations and my own shattered mind that gave him unto me.

“Joey?” His voice, as smooth as freshly brewed coffee, echoed through my ears as if he was speaking into a tunnel. I rolled my head over the top of the pillow as I struggled to regain my bearings. I had fallen asleep at some point and I swore that I was under the veil of something, the veil of the realm beyond the physical.

I was back home, back with my soulmate.

“Joey?” I opened my eyes some more, and my vision returned to form. Chuck lingered next to me: his long molasses-colored hair swept over me as if he had been caught in an updraft of a cool oceanic breeze. I swore that I was still dreaming and I had found my oasis out in the desert.

But then I caught the sound of machines beeping right behind me. The sound of a ventilator next to my head and shoulders. Something that was keeping me alive and breathing, and something else that had steadied my heart to where I could sit still and without any sort of discomfort running through me.

“There he is,” Chuck remarked, and he sat back down on the chair next to my hospital bed. As far as I could tell, he was alone in there with me.

“Yeah, I’m…” Even with the machines keeping me awake, I still had a bit of difficulty catching my breath or even so much as putting words together. “…I’m here. I’m here.”

He reached over and rested a hand on the back of mine, whereby I rested my hand on the bed right next to the crest of my hip. His skin was soft and creamy, and I knew that this was my chance to bridge the gap between me and him. I let my eyes wander down to his hand, and I noticed the wedding band still in place on his ring finger. 

But I needed to punch the sky.

“What… What day…”

“It’s Wednesday,” Chuck replied. “You’ve been unconscious for three days. They were worried about you because your heart actually stopped for ten minutes and they declared you clinically dead, but then your heart picked up again. I was worried that you wouldn’t wake up again.”

I locked eyes with him and nibbled on my bottom lip. Those eyes, so bright and luminous as if I was looking into the heavens itself. Those lips, as smooth as porcelain. I knew what he was thinking: we had the binding of the soulmates between us, come hell or high water in the face of the arrangements between him and Alex. I had nothing against Alex but I wanted to get in between them at that point.

“They pumped you full of nitroglycerin to preserve your heart once it picked up again,” he told me in a soft voice. “You were in seriously bad shape, my friend.”

I rolled my head back over the top of the pillow again, and I looked on at the bags filled with medicine right next to my bed. I had no idea what was in there, but I could feel it doing its thing on my poor body.

“Will I ever get out of here?” I asked him with a break in my voice.

“I’m sure you will,” he promised me, and he lightly patted the back of my hand. “They want you to have your strength back, the strength to at the very least stand up and walk around the place.”

“I… I do, too,” I breathed out, and I could feel a strange pain in the back of my neck right then. I hunched my shoulder closer to my ear as if I had water in there.

“Oh, yeah, the nurses told me that when you ran into the lobby, you took a tumble,” Chuck continued. “You kinda… fucked up your neck a little bit because of that.”

I sighed through my nose at that.

“They had to be careful because morphine and nitroglycerin don’t really go together,” he explained. “It was either have a sore neck or have your heart continue to pound out of time until you have another heart attack. Guess which one they chose.”

“Sore neck…” My voice trailed off. I lowered my gaze to his hand once again. The wedding band shimmered and shone under the fluorescent lights, as if it was a demon eye glaring back at me.

To run away with him. To run away with him and hold him in my arms against the lake effect winds forever. My train of thought was returning, and my body was well in the thick of recovery, and thus, I had to act on all of this. The dream was still fresh in my mind.

“I want to kiss you so badly,” I confessed to him with a shake of my head. His face then fell at the sound of that.

“I don’t really know what to tell you.” His voice was faraway but soft.

“I thought… we were soulmates,” I gasped out. “I thought… I thought…” He swallowed, and I could see something in his eyes. This look that I never really knew, but it gave me a weird feeling the more I looked on at him.

“Please…” I gasped out, and I could feel my back arching. I needed to sit up: damn the torpedoes.

Those luminous eyes were kissed with tears.

“Let me kiss you,” I begged to him, and I had to resist sitting up all the way as I knew that my neck could ache a great deal if I did it too fast. Chuck lingered back away from me: he had this look in his eye as if he wanted to tell me something.

To hell with the royalty, but I wondered what had changed since I had fallen on the floor of the lobby. Something had changed. Something had dug its way into his mind and stopped him from showing him from what he really wanted in life.

Indeed, Chuck swallowed and stood up from the chair. I reached for his hand, but he backed away from me. I lifted my head from the pillow, but I could scarcely sit upright all the way. I couldn’t do it, not without running the risk of making my heart pound even more. In fact, I could feel my lungs flaring from the feeling. 

I couldn’t cough, but I could feel it in my chest.

I took a beating.

“Joey, don’t,” he said with a wave of his hand at me.

“But Chuck… I thought… I thought!”

“Joey, you need to rest.” He backed away from me as if he was facing a monster. But I swore that he was my soulmate and the feelings were mutual.

Something had changed, and I needed to know.

“Chuck…” Because of that, I could feel my heart pounding again. My heart pounded and my lungs struggled to breathe from the feeling. I was going to bleed out from the heart once again, but I didn’t care at that point: I wanted him to know the truth of it all. “Chuck…!”

The monitors blared out right then, and I was reaching some sort of peak at that moment. Chuck backed away from the foot of the bed towards the door; the nurses ducked in to assist me as I could feel my chest aching. They laid me back down onto the bed to help me.

Something about me being too agitated for the time being. I had to rest. I couldn’t stop the feeling of my own heart, however, but I agreed with them, though. There was no way I could chase after him as he bowed out of there and into the corridor away from me.

My own broken heart needed to rest, even as the tears leaked out right then.

[bunglehead]

and there's a man, maybe ten years older than you,  with eyes like rough-cut pine and sunset

he notices you don't smoke, so he tries to stay downwind from you so he doesn’t exhale in your face. he tells you “it's okay, bud,” “we'll get through this and be better when we leave this place than it was when we got here." and he's telling you the truth and you believe him.

[sillysonglyrics]

so there's this girl, a tall girl, with eyes like honeycomb and jasmine

sometimes she blows cigarette smoke in your face in the break room, and you call that love

not because it is, but because you want it to be

because you're so goddamned lonely, so goddamned unable to handle the ocean roar in your ears when you're alone

you tell yourself that the ash in your lungs is as good as a kiss goodnight, and you write poems about the smoke tendrils whispering off her lips

How beautiful they are, how like the aching arms of god you always wanted them to be

-like blood from a stone by old gray from slow burn

[technically-human]

First meeting

[riddlemearose]

Phoning a Friend

Warriors watches the two Champions blearily, forcing his eyes to stay focused on them. He knows one is the Shadow but he can’t let himself entertain the possibilities of who the other one is. For now, he has to think of it nothing more than another potential enemy.

The one with the odd spear that gleams gold, its green gem ornaments clinking softly against the shaft as he twirls it, keeps himself between Warriors and the twisted Champion. The golden spear spins and spins, batting away a sickening dark blade every time the bloodstained, withered Champion tries to break through his guard.

Watching the spinning spear is actually making Warriors feel nauseous. Well, he mentally amends that to ‘more nauseous’, glancing down at the blood spreading across his tunic.

And this weird noise, whatever it is, isn’t helping! There’s something heavy weighing the clearing down, pressing into Warriors’ skin.

All he can hear is this pulsing loud tick tick tick in his ears, accompanied by an odd warping sensation in his limbs.

It’s magic, he knows that much, but he’s never felt it before and has no idea which Champion it may be coming from, if it even is either of them casting the spell.

He turns his head to spit out a mouthful of blood and it feels like the movement takes an eternity to complete.

So either his blood loss is more severe than he thought, or there’s something else going on.

The spear-wielding Champion darts backwards, his grip along the spear finally shifting into a proper stance, grinning wildly.

Ha, Warriors is hilarious.

A large shining gem sitting at the dip of the first Champion's throat lights his face up from below, all deep shadows and softened edges. He’s breathing heavily, a slight tremble visible in his fingers as he readjusts his grip.

The other Champion across from them makes a sweeping gesture with its withered arm and something red and alive spurs into life, lunging forward. The shape twists, absorbing what remains of the rotted flesh, and large, monstrous fingers stretch into existence. They reach through the darkness for the first Champion, wicked under the moonlight.

The first Champion raises the spear slightly in response, his grin vanishing as it's smothered under a blank, smooth expression that Warriors refuses to recognise. The fingers, the vile magic, get closer to his face, closing the distance rapidly—

And Time shoots out of the bushes, the Biggoron sword catching the moonlight as it arcs through the air and severs the arm from withered Champion's body. The arm hits the ground and melts into a writhing pool of furious magic, thrashing around that Champion’s feet.

The ticking in Warriors’ ears stops so abruptly he's thrown off-kilter, reeling at the sudden silence left in its wake.

Time glances at him, a quick look filled with concern and worry, then shifts his gaze to the spear-wielding Champion — Wild, Warriors lets himself finally acknowledge.

Dozens of micro-expressions fly rapidly across Time's face before he finally decides on grim determination.

“That,” he says in an almost wobbly tone of voice, taking up stance next to Wild, “is loud.”

“Yeah, I’ve been told. Sorry about that.” Wild agrees, still focused on the withered copy of himself standing in front of them. He shoots Time a small grin, barely there but blindingly obvious if you know what to look for. “Worked though.”

Time lets out a quiet huff of laughter, his own small smile twitching across his face. He shifts, sword held tightly in both hands. "You're definitely not wrong about that, Wild. When we get back to camp, you'll have to tell me how you managed to make your magic even louder than it already was."

[tumbly-s]

Trigun body horror week day 5 — LIMBS

[queenofbaws]

look, enough time has passed, i'm just going to say it

we should've had an option for an endgame where someone (read: laura, but honestly i'd accept literally anyone) sets hackett house on fire the same way the hacketts set harum scarum on fire

the obvious and delicious parallelism aside, the WHOLE HOUSE IS BUILT OVER BARRELS AND BARRELS OF ALCOHOL AND EVERYTHING IS WOOD PANELED, AUGH!!!!!!!!

[feverinfeveroutfic]

like blood from a stone | chapter forty-seven

(ao3 title: fortune favors the brave)

I stood outside with the letter tucked on the inside of my jacket. The breeze caressed my face and my shoulders, but I needed to be outside of that hospital. I kept the pencil tucked behind my ear as I thought about all the interactions I had ever had with Chuck from Florida.

I thought about everything that I wrote in that letter, and yet when I let the proverbial dust settle, I had no idea as to how to even transport it to him. He never even told me where in Florida he lived, either. But I had written out my feelings on paper, and I bled out to him. All I needed at that point was an envelope that color of red, and I needed something with the aroma of spices: something for passion, for power, and for what I held in my heart, even in all its ridiculousness and its stupidity.

I walked on over to the low wall before me, and I folded my arms over the stony top. I propped up my chin in my hand. The breeze swept through the roots of my hair; I could feel the wedding band on the side of my face, and the cold metal made me shiver. It made me shiver more than the sweeping feeling from the traffic and from the ocean right down below me. I closed my jacket over my chest, and I shivered again.

I folded my arms back down over the top of the wall, and I sighed through my nose once more. There was a big part of me that wanted to cry, but I couldn’t do it. I lacked the strength of doing so for myself and for my future. I needed a way out of the marriage without hurting Chuck, or myself for that matter.

There had to be a way to get myself to Florida without tipping anyone off, for that matter. I had to go, and yet I was the boy with the plume of silver in his hair: they could see me from miles away. I could dye my hair and put on a hat, but my face was still recognizable from a distance. I had to find my old sunglasses.

I had to tell my parents where I was going, but then again, I wondered if they could use a break from me.

The door behind me swung open, and I bowed my head and closed my eyes. I could feel the letter pressed up against my body, and I hoped that I wouldn’t drop it at any given point whatsoever, and especially with the slight morning breeze blowing all around me.

“Alex! There you are.” The fact that someone recognized me with my head bowed left a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I closed my eyes and pursed my lips. I didn’t want to see him or hear him, but I had to face him lest I be seen as a complete fool.

I then turned around, and I found Larry back around the corner of the building with his long hair spread back over his shoulders, and I shook my head at him.

I shuddered and sighed through my nose. He nudged a lock of hair behind his ear, and I could see it on his face that he had disturbed me, and when I said that I had wanted to be alone, away from that room. In fact, he hesitated a bit there at the corner. He backed up, but when he and I locked eyes, he moved in closer to me.

“Lar, I told you I wanted to be alone,” I curtly insisted.

“But… I want you to know that I needed some time alone, too,” Larry said in a small voice, and he moved in closer to me. “It’s just hard to see him in there like that.” I pursed my lips together again, and then I turned my attention back out to the view before me. Larry joined me there at the wall, and I could smell the industrial cleaner on his leather jacket.

“Jeff’s my older brother,” he confessed to me.

“Yeah, me, too,” I said, and hearing his voice and feeling his presence next to me somewhat calmed me down a bit. “We’re classmates, after all. And we knew each other since that first night at Ruthie’s Inn.”

“I’m gonna tell you this right now,” he assured me, “this is probably… more than likely going to be the end of Possessed. There is no way Jeff and I can continue this whole thing, and especially not when he’s been all bloodied like this, too.”

“Bloodied and probably beyond repair, too,” I followed along. “You don’t get shot in the chest and not walk away from that. At least not in one piece.” I then turned my attention to him, and a stray lock of my dark hair waved in front of my face with the wave of the wind all around us. “Which reminds me, how do you think you’re going to break it to him when he wakes up again? That is, if he wakes up again?”

“I really don’t know, Alex,” he admitted with a shake of his head, and his face fell. We both fell into momentary silence and peered out to the landscape before us. It was a dumb idea, and one that made me wonder how I was going to tell the Chuck whom I was married to, as well as Chuck from Florida about my intentions to leave the Bay Area and go on a long road trip. If nothing else, I had to say it all out loud.

“I have to get out of here,” I confessed to him in a low voice. I turned to him, and the same lock of hair spread before my face again. I locked eyes with him, and he pursed his lips at that. It felt good to say that, but at the same time, I wondered as to how he was going to react to that. “Really, I have to get away from here. This is too much.”

“I’ll get you out,” Larry suggested. “I have the keys, after all.”

“No, I mean…” I swallowed, and I bowed my head. A part of me couldn’t believe that I was saying this to someone else, and especially Larry. “I want to take a trip. Out of here. Away from the Bay Area. For a long, long time.”

Larry raised his eyebrows at me.

“Like… a road trip of sorts?”

“Yeah. More than a road trip. Find a fifth wheel and take Eric and Lou and just go up the coast. Go up to Oregon and Washington and then into Canada and Alaska. Not sure if we’ll double back down into California and eventually Mexico, but it’d be something if we did, though. We could follow the road where it takes us and then post up for a while in a certain place. Don’t think about anything or anyone for a while.”

“Could I come along?” Larry offered me.

“If you want,” I said with a shrug. I was slight taken aback by that, especially since I had no clue as to how he would react to such a suggestion, and because of his reaction, I ran my fingers through my hair, and I swept it off my head and shoulders: the breeze felt so good on the side of my neck. “It could just be the four of us guys going up towards Juneau and then Anchorage.”

“We could take the Pan-America Highway,” he suggested. “That goes from the very northern part of Alaska all the way down to Tierra Del Fuego in South America.”

“That’d be hell of a ride,” I muttered under my breath. “Thousands of miles… nothing but open road, seeing life in all manner of different places and more than what we would get on a tour, too.” I gazed off into the distance, to the rich blue tapestry over the hills and the ocean off before us.

“Why do you want to come along, anyway?” I asked him with a glance over at him. Larry shifted his weight next to me, and he sighed through his nose.

“I’m… really looking for a way out of here, too, when I say this out loud,” he confessed with a clearing of his throat. “Jeff and I, we’re best friends and we’re engaged, but… I don’t know if I can do this, though. He got shot and he’s comatose now. That’s why I feel the band is no more.”

I didn’t want to do it, but something told me that that was the only way out. If nothing, I could probably fake things and build up something so all eyes would be off me for a while. Eric and Lou could declare their escape from the Bay Area, and I could be tucked back somewhere in the fifth wheel, out of sight. The more I thought about it, the more it felt like the perfect crime.

But then I wondered if the Chuck whom I was married to would ask questions or even want to come along. He was about as adventurous as the three of us, if not more. He had that large house, and he had a great deal of money to throw around: the only reason why I felt he could come along with us was to spoil the three of us.

“I heard that Metallica’s label is about ready to go under,” he informed me, and I turned to him again, shocked by that.

“Really? Where’d you hear that?”

“Through Zetro and Gary,” he replied. “From Exodus. Well, not technically. I was sitting in the other room and they were talking about it and how they had no idea what to do about it, either. They said that their label isn’t doing too well and they could readily go under… tomorrow if things are really that bad and we just don’t really know about it.”

“I thought Metallica were doing great,” I recalled, and I could hardly believe what I was hearing right then. “Wow. What the hell happened?”

“No idea, but I’m guessing they’re hemorrhaging money right now, like worse than most other labels,” he continued. I remembered that we were on an imprint of the label, and I heard absolutely nothing about that: then again, I had been up to my eyeballs in wedding planning and trying to find my way out of there. It all had happened right behind my back, and no one said anything to us or to me about it. It was right then I began to relish in being crowned a royal.

“Do you think the royalty’s got something to do with it?” I asked him. “I do know that Lars and Kirk have a thing going. James and Cliff… no clue what’s going on there with the two of them.”

“I can’t really say,” Larry replied with a gloomy shrug of his shoulders. “My guess is yes, but I’m just spitballing, though.” He shook his head, and I let out a low whistle. I was facing the mother of all losses, more than any losses that my parents ever took if the schools were short or their books took hits upon publication.

“They’re gonna lose a fortune, if they haven’t done so already,” he told me in a small voice, and I wondered if there was going to be any money left over for the five of us in that instance.

“We’re gonna lose a fortune, too,” I corrected him, “that is, if we change labels between now and—” I then turned to him, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest out of fear and worry. “Wait. Does Eric know? Does Chuck know?”

“I can’t say,” he confessed. “Again, I was only eavesdropping on Zetro and Gary. I can assume that they do, but that’s just my assumption.”

I nibbled on my bottom lip, and I ducked past him back to the door of the hospital. I needed answers. Before I did anything with a fifth wheel, I had to sift through the sand. No sooner had I reached the door when Larry called out to me again.

“Alex! Alex, you dropped this!” But at that point, I was already back inside the hospital in search of Chuck.

[plantwriting]

“average jrwi fan writes 5.869 words of kian stone fanfic” factoid actualy just statistical error. average jrwi fan writes 0 words of kian stone fanfic. Words Georg, who goes by plant & writes over 1000 words of kian fanfic each day, is an outlier adn should not have been counted

[lucabyte]

music making followerrrrs i have a question for you about. programs and soundfonts and where to get them/utilise them

getting ahead of myself perhaps (though i likely need the extra time for. practice. given my musical ability is 'can play both hands on the piano so long as you don't scare me with anything above a child's level') but wondering what the 'reccomendation for amateurs' is wrt: making something that sounds snes-adjacent.

i have a copy of the.... well named... program Magix Music Maker from a charity bundle years ago, and some vague knowledge of famitracker. So while i'd like some software suggestions im not totally out on my ass on that one. but no idea how i use/get soundfonts/custom instruments tbh.

where i'm actually going to need to utilise this is like. a ways off so it's not urgent, i've got time to learn-- but mostly I know what I *need* is the ability to get something sounding 16-bit, and to be able to seperate out the channels, play them individually, slow them down, chop them up, etc. And my budget is Nil so I'm going to shoulder this myself where I can, since even if I could get my hands on the stems/channels of someone else's royalty-free stuff, intentionally mangling it feels a touch rude if i'm otherwise using it wholesale(?)

[smolldust]

what if I said I was writing some oneshots for my sonadow au what then?