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danetobelieve · 5 years ago

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Who’s Fext? || Luce and Winston

As weird as it was being at a high school alumni event, Winston had to admit that at least Luce was there. She was cool. All the Vurals were. In their own way. If they had been forced to go through something like this alone then they weren’t sure that they would’ve come out of it entirely sane. They were dressed appropriately for the event. Just office wear really, a shirt and trousers, a jacket, sneakers, a hoodie, okay maybe they could’ve made more of an effort. But this was something that they were doing to keep their mother happy, rather then because they really wanted to. “Thank god,” Winston said as they headed out of the hall where the event had taken place, “I wasn’t sure that I could take another “have you ever shot a gun?” question if my life depended on it.”

Why the high school had wanted her here was beyond Luce. She didn’t think that “tattoo artist at a local shop” ranked all that highly on the list of things that would inspire kids to stay in school. But, she’d spent her day in the art classes, talking to kids about what she did and how her classes had helped prepare her for her career. Which was objectively a lie-- what she’d learned as an apprentice was what had made her successful. But, they didn’t need to know that. Plus, it was good to see Winston here. She’d spent the last five years living out in her cabin, very deliberately avoiding other people. But, it wasn’t bad seeing the neighbor kid again. “You could have just lied. Would have been fun to see the teacher just go wide-eyed and pull the plug on the whole thing.” Luce said with a grin. “I straight up just told the kids that I dropped out of college a semester in.” SHe said as they walked down the hall together.

Laughing Winston couldn’t help but imagine what the AV club kids -- or whatever the current Gen Z equivalent was -- would say if they tried to claim that they had dropped out of college. “I don’t know if it would work as well for me if I tried to lie about dropping out of college or anything like that, if anything I think that they would know that there is no way that I can actually make it anywhere meaningful in my career without college.” They shuffled their feet as they made their way through the corridors of their old high school. High school hadn’t been the best, and they didn’t exactly miss it. Winston hadn’t really found their feet till college and at that point it was nice that they could put high school well behind them. “Besides, I think I’m still too hard wired to be a good student to fuck with a teacher like that. They probably don’t want to be here either.”

“That’s a good point. Your whole deal requires a lot of studying and shit.” Luce said with a nod. Winston had always been good at that sort of thing-- they’d pretty much grown up together, their interests in tech stuff had gone a long way back. “I figured. But, this is why you’re the one with the internship with WCPD. You’re good and law abiding like that.” Stretching, the material of her flannel shirt rubbed against her forearms in an almost suffocating way. She’d figured it wouldn’t have been a great idea to roll up in her usual outfit-- leather jacket, tank, and jeans-- so she’d worn a flannel under her usual jacket. It didn’t hide the tattoos on her hands, but the art teacher had known who she was inviting when she’d extended the offer. As they walked down the empty hallways, Luce glanced down one of the corridors, a smirk growing on her face. “Hey. Do you remember Mr. Blume? Taught chemistry? Wanna pop by and see if he’s still teaching here?”

“I mean, it is all just practice, just a different way of practicing to the work that you do. Besides, my kind of practicing is a lot less permanent then yours, I don’t know if I would have the nerve to give someone a tattoo, I’d be terrified of fucking up.” Winston swallowed at the thought, imagining how angry they would be if someone gave them a bad tattoo. How did people work their way around something like that? They knew that they definitely didn’t have the spine for it. “Wow, am I that easy to read?” Winston asked with a shake of their head, they tugged at the rolled up sleeves of the shirt they had worn today, wishing that they had taken a leaf out of Luce’s book and dressed more casually. A t-shirt would’ve been more comfortable. AS they moved down the corridors and headed towards the classrooms which were called ‘labs’ they found themselves nodding. “Oh hell yeah, I loved Mr. Blume, he was like the best teacher that they had in this place, is he still around?” Winston made their way down the corridors, in some ways it was like nothing at all had changed. Things seemed to be mostly the same and yet they were different. “Think he’s got the same classroom?”

“That’s why there’s a three year apprenticeship. You practice on oranges for a long time, then pig skin, then yourself.” Luce said, rolling up her sleeves and showing them a faded and honestly kind of shitty crescent moon she had on the inside of her wrist. It was far from her best work, but she kept it as a reminder of how far she’d come in the last few years. “You just work until you’re too good to fuck up.” She said with an easy shrug. “And, you’re only easy to read cuz we grew up together, goofball.” Luce teased. As the two walked down the hall, she couldn’t help but smile a bit wistfully. High school hadn’t been too bad for her, honestly. She’d had to deal with being known as “Bea’s Little Sister” for a while, but by the time Nell and Winston got to high school, she’d carved out her own little niche in the art wing. “He might. I just remember blowing shit up when we learned about combustion reactions. That was fun.” She said with a smile.

“Three years of training so that I could potentially ruin someone’s skin permanently,” Winston chuckled and shrugged, “I don’t think after all of that I would trust myself to do a really good job. But then again I was never the artist that you were.” They glanced at the tattoo and raised an eyebrow. “Damn, you actually did tattoo yourself, that must have been a weird experience.” Luce really seemed to be in her element when it came to tattoos and Winston was kind of impressed. “True, I think when you’ve known a family as long as the Dane’s and Vural’s have known each other then you really get good at reading people, I know exactly what it means when your mom purses her lips. You know how she does.” Winston hadn’t loved high school, they’d not exactly been popular and they’d had friends but they’d also had … well not friends. “He once dropped a tiny bit of sodium straight into a puddle for the class, I don’t think that the janitor ever forgave him for it,” they strutted down the corridor and paused outside of his classroom, peering through the little square window of glass set into the door, Winston spotted him working at the desk at the front of the class. “Hey, he’s in there, you wanna say hi?”

“Eh. It’s all about practice. Some people might start with talent, but that doesn’t mean shit compared to consistent practice.” Luce said, a hint of humor in her tone. That statement could be applied to magic as well. Bea had always been the focus of their parent’s attention, the first born, the one with the flare their parents were looking for. But talent didn’t measure ability. At the mention of her mother, Luce full body shuddered, shaking her head at the mere thought. “You’re not wrong in the slightest.” She agreed. Yet another quote-unquote benefit of living with her sisters… their mothers increased ability to meddle in her life. She fucking hated it. At least when she was in the woods, she’d had some physical distance to keep her family out of her life. Laughing, she grinned at Winston. “That sounds just like him. He is? Shit, yeah, let’s go in there.” Pulling open the door, Luce grinned and waved a hand. “Hey there, Mr. Blume. Still kicking huh?”

“I guess it’s like a musical instrument, the more that you work on it the more confident you are, but also the more able to deal with unexpected shit you are able to be… though I hope with tattoos you don’t often have to deal with any surprises.” Winston laughed gently at the idea of a surprise arising during a tattooing session. That wouldn’t be ideal. Obviously. “It’s nice that you’re back around, I know you had to do your time in the woods and stuff, but it’s cool to actually see you and Nell and Bea more now, there were a couple of years when I was in college and Nell was travelling, kinda felt like you guys were on a different planet you know.” The Vural family had always been beyond good to Winston and they would never forget that goodness. They had given them a lot and they would do whatever they needed to feel as if they were on equal footing once more. Following Luce into the classroom, Winston waved as well. “Hey Mr. Blume, can’t believe you’re still stuck here right…” they fell silent as Mr. Blume’s eyes snapped up and locked with Winston’s leaving a chill to trickle down their spine as they realised something was wrong, “you okay Mr. Blume?”

“Yep, pretty much. Eh,” Luce paused, thinking about the strange walk-in tattoo that she’d just done the other day. “There are some surprises that can happen. Usually just people saying they’re ‘totally fine’ and then passing out on me. When you decide to get a tattoo, just be honest with your artist.” She advised. At their mention of the time when the family was spread all over the place, Luce’s joking expression wavered for a moment. If Winston thought they were on a different planet then, then call her a fucking astronaut. She’d rather be back in her cabin than living with Bea and Nell. She’d had an entire place to herself, now she had a room and a shed. A great shed, but still a shed. As soon as the two of them stepped closer, Luce’s eyes narrowed, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. There was something off, something evil about Mr. Blume. Not in a typical science teacher way either. In straight up, that’s some bad shit kind of way. As Winston moved closer, Luce grabbed them by the shoulder. “Don’t--” Before she could finish that sentence, Mr. Blume vaulted over his desk and hurtled towards them with unnatural speed.

Winston frowned for a moment, “I definitely think that I would be the type to think that I was totally fine when in actuality I would be moments away from passing out, besides, I’m not exactly the best with blood and shock and stuff…” they sighed and shook their head gently before continuing. “Either way, if I do get a tattoo I will do everything that I can to be entirely honest with whoever is putting a permanent mark on my body. Seems like it is in my best interests really.” They noticed Luce’s expression and immediately realised that she hadn’t felt the same. But now didn’t exactly seem the time to ask her about it, so Winston decided that they would simply have to ask about it later. Or not at all. Depended on how they felt it would be received. They didn’t want to intrude after all. “Fuck, run,” Winston didn’t need to see the empty look in Mr. Blume’s eye, they didn’t need to see the way that they had cleared that desk with a single bound and they didn’t need to see the bee line that they were making towards them, “run run run.” They were pushing Luce out of the door and sprinting after them. “I don’t remember Mr. Blume doing that when we had chemistry together, even when I forgot my homework a few too many times.”

As soon as Mr. Blume yeeted himself over the desk, Luce had already turned on her heel and started sprinting away. Thank god she didn’t go running this morning, her legs were fresh and she needed the extra oomph, given she was hauling ass in heavy fucking boots. “Less quipping, more running!” Luce yelled over her shoulder as she booked it down the hallways. The school was empty, which worked out in their favor. But, as she looked behind her, Luce saw that Mr. Blume was hot in pursuit and gaining fast. There was something about his eyes, a dead look behind them, that just screamed ‘oh fuck no’ to her. “This way! Shortcut outta school!” Grabbing Winston’s arm, she pulled a hard right down one of the hallways towards one of the back entrances she’d used to cut class back in the day. Here’s hoping the door lock was still busted. As they neared the double doors, Luce kicked her foot out to push open the door and ran outside into the darkness.

It was all that Winston could do to stop themselves from screaming and swearing. Something that they weren’t about to do in front of someone who they had grown up in semi awe of. “Good idea, more running,” Winston said as they glanced over their shoulder and realised that Mr. Blume was easily keeping pace, in fact they might’ve even been gaining on them. Winston was sure that if Mr. Blume had seen them back in the day then they would’ve definitely told them off for running. Luce seemed to know exactly where they were going however, and as Winston saw that Mr. Blume was maybe seconds behind them they tried to pack on a final burst of speed as they exploded out of the school and into the perpetual night. “My car is in the car park, we should just get the fuck out of here and get someone more qualified to deal with this to help.” Things were going well, they were really making progress, they were getting further and further away and then of course, Winston Dane, the clumsiest person in the world had to have two left feet and trip over a curb.

Luce nodded at Winston’s plan-- it was as good an idea as any and whatever the fuck Mr. Blume was clearly wanted both of them dead. He looked human enough, so maybe if they lured it to the police station, the police would just riddle him with bullets and that would end that situation? Just make up some story about the guy going nuts and trying to murder them? But, as soon as they made it out into the parking lot, Winston tripped and fell over the edge of the curb. Pausing to help them up, Luce gritted her teeth together as she saw that Mr. Blume had not, in fact, been tricked by the sharp turn. “Fuck it.” She said, glancing over her shoulder to make sure she and Winston were the only ones around before holding her hands out and letting free a burst of magic. A ball of fire the size of a softball, concentrated and burning a bright white, soared from her hands towards Mr. Blume. “Get fucked, old man!” She yelled. But, instead of engulfing him in flames, something weird happened. The fire seemed to dissipate, recede, the colors growing dimmer and dimmer until there was nothing but smoke in front of him.

After learning the truth about the Vural family, Winston had suspected that Luce could also do magic too, but they weren’t about to admit that to them without letting them explain it first. But apparently when she had thrown a literal ball of bright white fire at Mr. Blume, that wasn’t something that they were going to need to do. “Yeah, get fucked…” Winston had made it to their feet just in time to see the fire expand around Mr. Blume, it should’ve burned them away and yet the magic just seemed to dissipate and vanish as if the oxygen around them had been snuffed out, “okay we should definitely run,” Winston said sprinting past Luce and grabbing her hand, pulling her towards their complete shit mobile. Their ankle twinged gently as they ran, the mostly healed wound that they’d received from the weird gremlin thing at UMWC not loving the amount of aerobic exercise that they were getting. Looking back, Winston tried to think of something that would buy them more time, do anything to get them more space, they had a plan, but it would take them a minute to enact it and they wanted to make sure they were in the car first.

The effort of throwing the ball of fire barely winded Luce, but it was the irritation of watching the man just continue to pursue them that really got to her. What the fuck? How did he just do that? There was no way that he would have been able to just… dissolve her magic like that. It was a fucking fireball. Letting out growl under her breath, she raised her hands again, intent on nuking this man into the ground. But, before she could conjure up another ball of flames, Winston had grabbed her hand and yanked her towards their car. “I can take him!” She protested, but when she saw the way that they were limping, she gritted her teeth. Even if she wanted to try and duke it out with Mr. Blume, there was no way that Winston would be able to manage. They shouldn’t be caught in the middle of this shit. “Ah screw it, the car it is.” She said, running ahead towards the familiar looking vehicle. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” She yelled, watching as Mr. Blume continued his relentless pursuit after them.

“You can absolutely take him I am completely and totally sure of it, but at the same time the guy just absorbed what looked like a white hot fireball, which by the way was very very cool, and I don’t really want to find out what the hell else they can do.” Winston reached into their pocket and dropped their keys immediately. Great. “Uh, if you could throw a few more fireballs at him whilst I get the keys then that would be great,” Winston was already pressed flat to the tarmac of the car park, they were wriggling under the very greasy and dirty underside of their car in an attempt to reach their keys, praying that they would be able to get them before whatever the hell Mr. Blume was got to them first. Somehow they didn’t think that when their old chemistry teacher got their hands on two of his former students that he was going to explain covalent bonds to them or quiz them on the periodic table.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Luce groaned, but stepped up to bat nonetheless. Rolling her sleeves up, she took a deep breath. Calm. Steady and calm. Disregard the neighbor kid behind her fumbling with their keys, completely ignore the murderous chemistry teacher on a warpath. Just straight up forget the fact he’d made her fireball completely vanish in a puff of smoke. None of that mattered, none of it. There was only the fire inside her. The burning, white hot energy. Flames she so carefully stoked and tended to, urging her onwards. And all she had to do was let them free. With a sharp exhale, Luce held out her hands and jets of red hot fire streamed out from her palms. Not fireballs, he’d already demonstrated he didn’t give a shit about those. No, she was going for volume this time. The parking lot lit up with the red hot glow of flames, shooting twenty feet in front of her from both of her hands. Aiming at the ground, she urged the magic on, fueling the fire to burn, even on the empty asphalt. Pulling back her hands, sweat dripped down the side of her face as she glared triumphantly at Mr. Blume, who had stopped for a moment on the other side of the flames.

As Winston’s fingers curled around the ring of their keys, they dragged them towards them and managed to bound up to their feet, slipping their keys in the lock of the car they pulled the door open and slipped the keys into the ignition. As they turned it and heard the car roll over a few times before sputtering into life, Winston thanked whoever had given them luck today because their car never ever started first time. Turning around, they were just in time to see Luce’s hands fire … well flames in great jets in front of them. A huge wall of fire erupted into life and Mr. Blume was hidden from view. Winston’s jaw fell slack and they were awe struck by the sheer display Luce had made. They’d managed small magic but nothing as big as what Luce had just done. For a moment, Winston was convinced that she’d saved them. Second time lucky right? And then, the most terrifying thing that Winston had ever seen happened. Mr. Blume appeared inbetween the flames that licked the open air, and then stepped through the magical inferno, causing the flames to shy away from their form as they made their way forwards. The heat seemed intense however, and Winston was convinced that they could see some of the skin on Mr. Blume’s face sizzle in the heat of the air, but they were through the wall of fire and making their way towards the car. “Luce, get in now!” they snapped, throwing the door open as they spun the car around and revved the engine, ready to speed away.

The second Mr. Blume vanished from sight, Luce had a fleeting moment of exhilaration. She’d done it, she’d made him back off. Maybe she’d even-- before she could get too happy, he appeared again, in the middle of the flames. Her magic was repelled away from him, skirting around his form as he took a slow step towards her. His eyes stared at her, unflinching, entirely focused on her. A chill ran down her spine and she recoiled. “What are you?” She asked, more to herself than to him. Before either of them could respond, Luce heard Winston’s car roar to life, heard them yell at her to get in. They didn’t need to tell her twice. Turning tail, she ran for the door and slid inside, slamming the door shut. Grabbing hold of the Oh Shit Handle, she stared through the window as Mr. Blume continued to come for them. “Let’s get the hell outta here!”

“You don’t need to tell me twice.” Mr. Blume was sprinting towards them, Winston could hear their footsteps and see them hurtling towards them in their rear view mirror. They shifted gear, slammed their foot on the accelerator and felt the wheels spin in place for a moment before the car shot off. Keeping their eyes bouncing back from their mirrors and the windscreen, Winston reached inside of themselves and harnessed the well of energy that they accessed in times of magical need. Taking a deep breath, they began chanting under their breath. Mr. Blume was moving with surprising speed and Winston could see them cutting across the car park as Winston was forced to weave between the cars that were still parked here, which wasn’t many. As they reached the exit to the school, Winston turned left and finished their incantation. As they turned left an identical copy of their car appeared to peel off towards the right. Winston slammed the speed on, heading towards the one place that they could think of which might have some information on what the hell this all was and what was going on here. “Fuck, that was really fucking close.”

As they zipped out of the parking lot as quickly as Winston’s car would allow, Luce slumped in the back seat, panting from the effort. Doing a mental check of her energy levels, she grimaced. She’d expended more of her energy on that than she’d originally thought she would. And it didn’t even phase him. What the fuck was Mr. Blume? As she stared out the window of the car, she was startled to see an illusion of their car appear in the middle of the road. What? That wasn’t her. Which meant… Leaning forward, Luce grabbed the back of Winston’s seat to stabilize herself. “Winnie. When were you gonna tell me you were a spellcaster, huh?” She asked, exhaustion letting her annoyance come through in her tone a bit more than she intended.

Perspiration beaded on Winston’s forehead as they slammed their foot down as hard as it would possibly go. They knew that they needed to eat, but they would have to do that later. But they’d found that for them, after using any amount of magic it was important to have a sudden and ferocious hit of calories as soon as possible to avoid too much of a deficit. “Sorry, I ….” they swallowed, “towards the beginning of this year I found out about all of this and I just haven’t been telling people about it because honestly I’m not very good and I also know that with Miriam Flemming out there it isn’t exactly safe to be broadcasting that information.” They took a left, then a right, then three more lefts, then two rights and another right, finally convinced that they were safe, they turned the wheel and headed for the old Scribe building. “But, we need to work out what that was and how we’re going to deal with it, because Mr. Blume is too dangerous to just leave to their own devices apparently, but I have a place we can go.”

#who's fext?#p: luce #wickedswriting #para #chatzy para

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mynameisdreartblog · 5 years ago

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Vacation Resorts 3

Libra: Beresheet Hotel. “And like a smoggy monster breaking its dormancy from civilization by emergence from the olden well, there sprang forth an unnegotiable howl. It called upon all the night-walking villagers of the nearby town to seek where such a call beckoned them. One by one — as if it were a plague that swept all known — were these men (now turned nightwalkers) dragging their tools along the ground loosely from their holsters, implying a lack of human care. All were approaching towards that which mysteriously spoke all the tongues of the native land, and with such hypnotic trance and a strange, audible dreg. As the nightcrawlers walked further from their schedules, the beaten dirt paths began to glow iridescent with scratch marks, heavy footprints, and mysterious mounds. <The sound of shifting pages becomes audible> Thereafter, the fluorescent scratch marks had become replaced with new scars: Signs of desperation to escape a chaser or several. The heavy footprints dig even farther into the earth as iron-toed greaves crush the ground… <The sound of shifting through pages becomes more urgent> The mysterious mounds now tear their shrouds as bones, trickling with leftover flesh, arise from the dirt with uncovered magics conjuring a halfway resurrection.” [,] So, what did you think of it? «Wow, that’s… pretty wordy: Why were you writing like that?» Firstly, that’s better than immediate compliment. Secondly, this was from a writing exercise back when I was in high school to be very descriptive in your language. My teacher never had the guts to tell me I was being too descriptive, so they slapped a good grade on it. «High school? God, that must’ve been ages ago back in… 1950-something.» October 1953, and I was the first of my high-school class because I enrolled just six years after they founded the school, making me a dinosaur retrospectively. «Heh! What was your inspiration for this?» My rational sense would tell me that it was when I decided to think really hard about Mediterranean terrors from days old, but the truth tells me that I never had an interest in that until I graduated. «It sounds way too much like northern Europe to be Mediterranean.» Well, I didn’t wanna play into Greek tropes.

Cancer: Portal Del Lago Hotel. Ah, “racoon with yams.” I wonder what else you have in this fridge. «It’s all yours; I haven’t checked up on it in a while.» You know what that tells me? It tells me whatever’s in here isn’t passable for any human consumption. «Yet, you’re still digging through it. Keep this up, and you’ll end up the next racoon to be in those canned yams.» Pfft, you and your office jokes. <Springe digs several inches further into the employee fridge, looking at the treacherous back to see what vile horrors lie there.> Ah, it’s nothing too bad: Just some leftover feijoada and a bag filled with miniature coxinhas. I’d reheat some of it if I knew they didn’t have my name on them. «Who brought the “racoon with yams” then?» I don’t keep tabs on every person here. Hell, I don’t even keep tabs on all the patients who see me. «Only the ones that open their hearts to you, right?» Ugh, don’t make it a mushy thing: Sometimes you don’t like the bile you find inside�� or in this fridge, Jesus. <Springe pulls out a strangely warm bag of chips, and the contents within it contain a strange, black bile that falls out. It appears to be alive in some way, which doesn’t terrify Springe as they’ve dealt with rogue intestines before.> Oh, it’s wriggling! «Did someone put biological material in the wrong fridge again? I thought I issued an announcement about that!» <Springe tosses the creature in the nearby trashcan and continues digging through the seemingly endless employee fridge. Meanwhile, the biomass crawls its way out of the trashcan and slithers up through Springe’s pants, leaving a slimy but unnoticeable trail behind it.> «Uh, did you see that?» <Springe acts confused.> Huh? No. [,] «My lunch break is almost up, so I’m afraid I won’t be here ’til the point where you’re existential in your fridge spelunking.» <Springe, completely oblivious to the world outside of the fridge, is experiencing temperatures so cold that their eyelashes have frost on them. Also, they can’t hear pleas from outside: This is normal, you see.> Will there be eternal comfort at the end of this? I don’t know: Is there eternal adventure? Is there another quest at the end of it? People don’t tend to think beyond the end. People hold onto things all the time despite this, and I’ll be getting somewhere with this soon. <The clouds of breath coming from their mouth form unforgettable skylines.>

Virgo: Caspian Riviera Grand Palace Hotel. <There’s nobody else in this scene except for Bluma and her solitary thoughts. To conjure a scene, it’s a cold night somewhere in intercontinental Central Asia: Snow aligns the corners of a window seemingly located here to perfectly accent a contemplative thinker needing to subconsciously observe it. That contemplative thinker today is our subject Bluma: What could she possibly be pondering within her mind? Is she trying to figure out the supposed ’hard problem’ of consciousness; aligning the stars to see what multitudes her purposes contain; maybe she’s just taking the moment as it is? One can only wonder.> [,] The folder of topless anime women has been sitting in my files for years. How did it even accumulate? Oh yeah, there’s a whole story behind it, and there’s nobody here to tell it to, which is fantastic. So, I really liked this old dating simulator where you’d date cute girls (and boys) that were based off classic monsters in Western mythology. It wasn’t a cutesy anime style though; it looked like it was drawn by someone who makes action-shows about barbarians, but I didn’t care since the game was mostly text anyways, so the positive chemical rush that gets into your head was worth it the whole way through. I did eventually find one with the same concept but with an anime art-style only fifteen years later… I’m getting sidetracked; what was I talking about? Oh yeah, the folder. Well, at the end of certain routes in the game, you’d receive a timelessly risqué picture as your reward, and I decided to uh… make a collection out of them as a way to preserve the reward I had received. Wait, am I talking about the same game? There are multiple games that had topless women at the end of them as a reward, and I’m confused which was which again… One had a protagonist named Alyosha, and the others were some American names: Nothing potentially related to anything else. [,] <She places her fingers on her temple and creates an iconic pose to represent the methodical nature of humanity. She knows she’s artwork in living form, and it aches her at every moment to be seen as just another person among her flock. This is the tragedy of the image we place upon ourselves when we observe reflections: Distortions are all that we live by, and the true gasp of the self comes through in this pose.> [,] I’ll search for that folder again, and if they’re not where I think I last placed them, they’ve likely manifested into specters that guilt me every time I look at porn.

Sagittarius: Peermont, the Grand Palm. When you’re finished with all your internships, make a pile of all your previous work and burn it. «…Wait, that’s it: That’s all the advice you have for me?» Um, yes? «No, no, no, there must be a catch to all of this. I came searching for you ever since you did a presentation for our class in the town square!» You would’ve been better off eavesdropping if you were gonna end up disappointing by seeking me. «I don’t get it, and I feel like I’m being played with by not getting it.» I feel like I’m being played by only knowing who you are from less than an hour prior. I wanna start by asking you an oppressive amount of questions, and then maybe that advice will become more helpful. [,] <A sequence of intense interrogation goes underway in a discrete ally: Not worth disclosing the specifics of, really. A bunch of questions pass until the juicy one finally arrives.> «So, this is it, huh?» There’s many it(s) you’ve been assessing to, so I’m unsure. «Just tell me what this tech is!» Well, the truth is I have a magical object with me that resembles something you’re familiar with: A note of proven merit that allows me access to any profession. I’m not a hustler — I’ve transcended that lifestyle a long time ago — I’m rather a cosmic agent sent here to experience every occupation created by humanity. «I think I believe you.» Ah, I know you want it, but you may not like my methods: I suck all I can out of a single experience, and then I float around in a state of purposelessness until the next fixation comes along. It’s a painful life few are willing to embody. «I’m ready for whatever it takes, including that. Finding you and asking for the elaboration I need has been on my mind since that day when I was young and you were younger. Angels came down upon me and guided me to this moment: I’m sure of it.» I was sure of a lot of other things too, but a lot of that assuredness just felt like it was filling a bigger longing. «I didn’t come here for doubts! I came here for the opposite of that… whatever that is, and you’re that.» Yeah, yeah, I’m not planning on adding “guru” to the list of occupations. «You’re dragging me out to reach a conclusion: That’s what I feel inside of me, right?» Ah-hah, you’re starting to realize now! «I turned myself into my own means!»

#Zodipunc #Zodiaccupuncture #Libra #Cancer #Virgo #Sagittarius

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