#like yeah he was being a shit and yeah vale got the red mist and forced him off track to crash him

[moonshynecybin]

Do you know if any retired racers said anything about Sepang 2015 like Casey or Max Biaggi or other riders from that era?

i’m fairly sure everyone and their MOTHER was asked about it at the time but my tumblr mutual in spirit may oxley apparently went around literally polling everyone on the entire paddock like the diva he is and people were pretty split! journos and racers alike! anyways here’s what casey tweeted that week

[sockendrache]

Every couple of months I return to tumblr with a new cursed idea about these poor kids.

I’m too fascinated by the Rotten Vale and the “From death springs new Life”-theme in MHW and think that a Stories-Game focusing on the Vale and death would be amazing and somehow my sleep-deprived brain fabricated a scenario where Kyle’s bleeding out on  the floor and starts spouting some poetic crap about the Rotten Vale, being the edgy little shit he is.

...but ngl, I really do like the thought of the Rotten Vale “calling out” to those who can sense the end of their life-cycle... be it Monster, Human or Wyverian.

The Vale’s Call is carried by the Coral Highlands’ gentle breeze, and when it reaches you, it’s kind, welcoming even. Like going home.

Sounds like something Rider-Villages would tell the kids just becoming Riders. It’s a friendship until the very end, and one of you will outlive the other. But even then, the Vale is where you will be reunited.

Featuring a little story under the cut, featuring the Rider and Kyle.

CN.: Mentions of blood and implications of death. Despite the ‘open ending’ this poorly written word-slushie has, Kyle doesn’t die- he just got fucked over real good by a Monster and is being a little edgy until the carting-crew arrives and drags his ass off to camp.

“Hey, Kyle... do you think that... when we die, will the Vale call out to us too?”

“I’d rather not concern myself with the Rotten Vale. And you shouldn’t either. What’s got you asking anyways? Rider-things?”

You shrug, pretend to miss the thoughtful expression on his face. “....just a thought. If Guardian Ratha could hear the Vale’s call when he... ah, forget it. It’s nothing important.”

You expect him to grunt in acknowledgement, continue to dutifully clean his arrows. But that thoughtful expression hasn’t left his face.

“...honestly, I’m not sure. There’s little we know about the Vale, but... it sounds likely.”

...

There’s so much red.

It’s coating everything; your fingers, your armor. His skin. Blood and dirt and... tears, maybe? It’s hard to tell, really. Hard to focus when your partner is bleeding out at your feet.

If he’s crying, you weren’t going to tell. That’s between you and Kyle.

Blond hair sticks to his forehead, matted with sweat and blood. He’s so pale, you think. So frail, so frightened. Like a child, but his eyes are devoid of any light.

He’s already soaked through the bandages you applied mere minutes ago. Morbid curiosity has you thinking, how is there any left in him?

You keep your mouth shut, let the uncomfortable silence fall over you like a cloud of mist.

His eyes are on you. Is he looking at you or looking through you, you can’t tell.

“Hey, Rider.”, he rasps out. You told him to keep his mouth shut, preserve what little energy he has left. Of course he wouldn’t listen.

“Yeah?”

One of your hands is in his hair, stroking it in what you hope is a comforting manner. You don’t know who it’s meant to comfort, though. Kyle or yourself?

“About your question, when we die... I think I can...” He’s coughing, slight splatters of blood painting his lips. “... I can feel it. The Vale’s call.”