#ref. my ooc post yesterday

[lindscys]

♡ for a short thing while i get myself together on this blog ?

[apompkwrites]

the shroud experiments: results and findings || idia shroud

masterlist characters: idia & ortho (platonic) genre: angst contains: idia pov!!! (for the most part), probably ooc idia? never fully written for him before, death, unhealthy coping, mourning, self-hate, reader is described as thinner than before once (not indicative of weight/body size), blot creatures :DD summary: idia shroud, more than anything, wanted to be a good brother. oh, how far he was from being one. notes: i already apologized to y'all so no apology here :) nothing bad ever happens to the shrouds! /ref. anyway, can you believe that idia was the character i started with? look at how i treat my boy parts: [og post] | [the unwanted shroud (1)] | [the shroud experiments: pre-test (2)] | [the shroud experiments: testing (3)] | [the shroud experiments: results and findings (4)] | [the robotic shroud (5)]

idia loved his siblings with all of his mind, body, and soul.

there was the baby of the family, ortho. he remembered when he was brought home like it was yesterday. he wasn't a quiet child, but he didn't cry either. in fact, he giggled. he laughed and laughed, tugging at idia's hair and letting out more giggles as little sparks of fire flew at him.

and then there was (name), idia's first younger sibling. much like ortho, he could remember when they were brought home. they didn't laugh like ortho, but they didn't cry. when idia's parents first brought them home, bundled up in a plush blue blanket, they were sound asleep. they offered (name) over to idia, who, upon slowly taking his younger sibling into his arms, felt a rush of euphoria as they nuzzled into his hold.

that was the moment when idia found his purpose. his true calling in life. to live for them.

so when the incident happened... a part of him died alongside ortho. he remembered when his parents told him the news, ortho's body covered by a blanket just a few feet away. that was the last time idia left his room. he didn't dare leave, afraid of the little reminders of what was left of ortho.

he kept himself occupied, working day and night until he perfected ortho's reincarnation. no, not reincarnation. he could never compare the real ortho to his creation.

all idia cared for now was coping. he knew that his parents would not take care of him. they made that obvious the day after ortho's death. they dared not to check up on him, not even a knock on the door to confirm he was even still alive. radio silence from the both of them was what idia received, and soon it became what he expected of them.

he didn't mind that now, of course. there was no use trying to change his parents when their pride and joy was dead and buried six feet under the ground. he knew that the moment ortho died, all of their love for him and (name) died alongside him.

there were days when idia wondered how (name) was handling this. if he was destroyed over the news, he couldn't even imagine what it was like for them.

he remembered his parents chastising them when revealing ortho's death to idia. they would ramble on to each other under their breaths as if idia couldn't hear them. that was what stopped idia from asking about them.

he wanted to. he wanted to know what happened to (name) so badly because he couldn't stand the thought of losing both of his siblings in a single night. but before their name could even escape his trembling lips, he heard them.

"that wretched child" was what they called his lovely little sibling. they spit out the title like poison, describing the little baby that idia remembered holding in his arms that day, their chubby face hiding in his chest and their little hand grasping at his shirt.

that was when idia, in his overstimulated and grief-stricken mind, decided that he did not want to associate with them for the unforeseeable future. he couldn't stand talking to them when all he could think about was how they lost the baby and despised the other.

he felt bad, of course, for leaving (name) alone with them. but, at his age, there wasn't much he could do. at least, that's what he told himself.

he was just glad that, from what he saw on the cameras, they weren't being mistreated by them. in fact...

he never saw them leave their room at all.

they really were related, their habits coinciding almost identically. honestly, idia was surprised that their parents let them stay in their room. it wasn't like they had less power over them than they did idia, right? sure, he was meant to take over the organization when he was older, so they would naturally feel less obligated to take care of him.

(that was the reason they were so separated from him, right?)

but (name), as much as he loved them and meant it in the most positive and even envy-filled way possible, didn't amount to anything in terms of the organization. so why would they not be more hands-on in terms of parenting with them?

why were they mourning alone?

sometimes it would hit idia that maybe, just maybe, he should leave his room. not to interact with anyone else except for his little sibling. not once did he see them nor get to ask them how they were coping with the loss of ortho. and when those moments happened, idia would beat himself up over it.

what kind of older brother was he? what kind of older brother lets their little sibling wallow in the pain and trauma of watching their youngest brother die in front of them? what kind of older brother hides away in his room and lets them surround themselves in reminders of what had happened?

a lousy, sorry excuse for a brother, that's what.

he never did act on those innermost desires to leave his room. he never did act on those desires to comfort his little sibling.

and he hated himself for it. he couldn't do it and he hated himself.

what a worthless brother he turned out to be.

“idia! someone was in the hallway!”

ortho was the only one allowed in his room. maybe it was because idia didn't have the heart to tell him no. so it wasn't unusual for ortho to barge in, ranting on and on about something that happened outside his room.

"yeah? what'd they want?" idia was very quick to dismiss the idea of a staff member lingering in the halls, his attention settled on the gacha screen in front of him.

"huh? oh, nothing," ortho merely shrugged in response, fixing idia's room and picking up trash that had missed the trashcan. "it wasn't one of the staff."

now that got his attention. no one was supposed to be on this floor other than staff because idia sure as hell knew that his parents were not home. they never were so if it wasn't staff then...

"wait, who was outside, then?" idia had never moved as fast as he did just then, whirling around in his chair to face ortho. the sudden movement seemed to startle him as he stopped in his tracks, his hands still clutching a wrapper that had been on the floor.

"i didn't recognize them," ortho explained, dropping the wrapper in the trashcan. "that's why i came to tell you!"

"no way... there's no way," was all idia could mutter as he scrambled to close out the game and turn on the security cameras.

there was only one person that idia was sure ortho would not immediately recognize.

and when he scrubbed through the footage, idia's hypothesis was proven right. there, in the halls, just outside his room, was (name). for two years, he hadn't caught a glimpse of them outside their bedroom, let alone in the hallway. and yet, there they were!

and they were... oh gods, what had happened to them in those two years?

they were thinner than he remembered them being. did they eat enough? but that wasn't the worst of it. no, what was the worst was the fact that their body was trailing with blot.

it dripped from their clothes, most likely from the blot-covered body parts that were hidden underneath their baggy clothes. and because of that, they served as the only clue that someone had been down those halls.

idia didn't have to think twice about leaving his room the moment he saw (name) leaving their room. the urge to see his little sibling again after two years was overwhelming and much more convincing than the thoughts and feelings forcing idia inside his room.

even ortho was surprised to see how quickly idia opened the door.

what idia didn't expect to see when he followed the blot droplets was the fact that they led to the lower levels containing the blot monsters. what business did (name) have there?

a sudden sense of dread filled him the moment he stepped into the hall, the clamoring and wailing of the blot monsters sending a chill down his spine. even if he had seen them before, it took a bit for him to get used to them.

as he followed the droplets on the ground, he couldn't help but wonder... was this where (name) had been for the past two years? he hadn't seen them leave their room so maybe... maybe they weren't even in their room.

all he could think about now was apologies. he wanted so badly to apologize to them, beg for their forgiveness for leaving them for so long. for letting things get this bad. for making them mourn alone for so long.

for being the worst brother imaginable.

and that thought only echoed the moment his eyes landed on them. there they lay as if frozen in time. they didn't move at all, eerily similar to when they were first brought home.

except, they weren't even breathing. a faint flatline was all idia heard, cementing the fact that (name), his precious little sibling, the only one that was alive after the incident.

was dead.

soul transfer complete were the words that occupied your vision. soon, something popped up under it like a dropdown menu.

first objective: erase all research on soul transference and idia shroud's stolen blueprints.

it seemed as if there were more objectives, ones that would only unlock once you completed the first one. alongside them were little notes about your surroundings, most notably the blot creatures that were apparently rooming a few cells down. with that thought in mind, you got to work.

the notes were of higher priority, explaining why your creator listed it first in the two things that needed to be erased. the main issue was that they were in a notebook, material goods that needed to be destroyed without any trace of it so as to not be repaired through magic.

and so, the quickest way to ensure that they were left undiscovered was to give them to the blot creatures. the ones that, according to your creator, had an appetite for anything thrown in their cell.

and what better creature to give extra food to than the one that seemed to occupy its cell more than the rest? the little guide left behind by your creator came in handy as it pinpointed the exact cell that it was in.

what you didn't account for was the fact that it didn't take too kindly to you. maybe it was your appearance...

but, despite its unwelcoming aura, it gladly accepted the offering with no hesitation, gobbling up the notebook like it was nothing but a pill.

first objective: erase all research on soul transference and idia shroud's stolen blueprints.

the final remaining research resided in the screens that surrounded you in your creator's room. you were quick to erase the data, trying your best to ensure that no trace of it remained. what you, nor your creator, accounted for was them.

"no..." was all idia shroud could utter, his eyes first landing on your creator's abandoned body.

first objective: erase all research on soul transference and idia shroud's stolen blueprints - 75% complete

taglist: @brokenncrowns @help-meplz @destinationdesignation @rainys-personal-garden @kalims @sxftiebee @luxaryllis @auld-a @the-dumber-scaramouche @ayra2452008 @tinywho-man @spadecentral @justeclem44 @bajifairyy @mulandi @yleivs @randomlyappearingartist @meerpea @test-subject76

[sanctificetur]

historical AU. with Jess and Francis ( @starfalled )— paralleling to Sansa and Harry — RL visualiser being Alina and Nikolai. Series of poems or drabbles (which poem line could be meme prompts or could accompany relatable meme lines I already rb in meme tag ) : Could incorporate some remainder of ic/ ooc ( as I remembered the starting line & other random info of motivation ) dot points — as well as my playlist during our dance/war ++ (ex. astronomical, piano). I lost Francis’ Spotify link of he saw in me through his eyes — let’s see what I remember: when we were young, yellow, two of us). elements of my long drabble between them ; which probably was the primary motivating factor that Francis realises perhaps Jess is not lost forever & commencing/climbing back on the horse in a calm walk through the forest of hands and teeth (ref: similar to Morgana and her horse-riding & when the horse reared up on her). and I think when Francis went and listened to Jess’ love of jack savoretti, the harsh & beautiful rawness (ex. catapult, written in scars : ref possibly striking the muse spirit side of enjolras) really struck a chord in his soul to spark a progressing journey to not be in eternal guilt lockdown of queue : of the painful trauma trenches of SPN fandom but the love and passion of relating to dean — a reflection of themselves — yet getting to know Jess ++ himself better — he fused together a creation of Westley McCarthy — honouring past & present. also in a Borgias like setting in which my DVD arrives yesterday. Anyway, in here, they are probably not technically angel or demon in reality, but they just experience elements of such during their relationship. They both feel the other as well as themselves are the key reason for distress as well as salvation — which may seem strange to outsiders as they only knew each other for a handful of months — summertime sadness by Lana del Rey. They both feel the other keeps dancing around each other but not really touching during the earlier && more paranoid times. Like when Francis kept kicking Jess out of palace. And when Jess keeps doing her doll trance motions. “Here’s where you were mine. Here’s where I am yours — always.” What elements of Jess to keep: well, referencing about her aversion to hamsas & tally marks on her hands, that could tie into my Malachi ic post Link here — Jess could draw 👁 on her hands with ink. Which could tie into how she used to write reminders on her hands with ink in high school —- a dangerous habit of possible ink poisoning. But yet could also tie into the AU about her conflict of spirit — of human or monster? Hmm I might write a disjointed ongoing letter poem to Francis / Jess too just to more properly sort out my repetitive suspicion of hurting myself on my handwritten diary, during my calmly living life. Handwriting is an important accompaniment to digital, as not to get lost in the void of machination, even though with technology, you absolutely do write with your soul as well as head — it is just more difficult to know your limit. Anyway, random direct paging is the most important thing — direct communication in which I assume Francis is also trying to do with his new canvas of handwritten and digital — and sorting through his own mess of a mind in his own self validated manner. The months of rose-tinted dance however are not a waste of heart and energy, and just to navigate through their own time & pace within their whirlwind body & soul of: should I trust them or not?? like what Francis said as Dean, “There’s a book in the vaults.”