#writing: carmina

[mantisgodsdomain]

Finally, we get the opportunity to put our Spy Cards worldbuilding in a work. Though there are many questions about such things as "regulation" "how these cards are printed" "who approves a single spy card", and so on, we are here to present a bold new take: this game is based like 60% on obscure roach memory-reading tech that got turned into a card game with absolutely No card-game-related intentions included in the original tech and most of the card vetting is just from the fact that there aren't too many card printers out there and most of them make cards that need to be translated from Roach.

Strictly speaking, as a card game, it is not a terribly good or well-balanced one. It's popular primarily because of a mix of the difficulty involved in getting the data for high-level cards, the fun of seeing the variety of monsters that can be brought to the table, and the incredible amounts of ham and drama that goes into specifically the professional scene.

[carminavulcana]

Do you sometimes read your own old stories and go like, "I wrote this? 🥹" and then, sometimes, "I wrote this? 🤢"

[cordycepsbian]

♥️♠️spy card oh yeah♦️♣️

[meerawrites]

Halloween 2024: which slasher comes to mind?

Of knives & teeth on ao3.

@rachaelanra

[blot-squisher]

SFW alphabet for Carmina.

SFW Alphabet Ask Meme for Surviving the Game the Artist

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) Carmina wears her heart on her sleeve. It's not hard to catch her smiling softly at the people she cares for, even when they're totally oblivious.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) Show her what kind of person you are, and if she likes it, she'll like you. Carmina is one of those friends that will seemingly vanish off the face of the earth for days or even weeks on end before suddenly reappearing and picking things up like she just saw you an hour ago.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) Snuggling up side by side is perfect, especially if you play with her hair.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) Carmina is a restless soul and settling down isn't for her. She used to cook for herself and her little brother, but her skills fell by the wayside once she was taken by the Entity. Nowadays, she usually sticks to things that don't need to be cooked.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) She would be gentle about it. Hurting people has never been her style, but she's also not afraid to face hard truths.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) Commitment is very important, but she doesn't feel the need to go through so many hoops to make a relationship 'official'.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) Incredibly on both counts unless pushed to act otherwise.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) Carmina's hugs are gentle and warm. She enjoys the closeness, and as long as she considers you a friend she won't be opposed to a hug.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) Although Carmina is very affectionate, she's more reserved when it comes to getting that close. She'll say it in time, once she knows it's real and that her potential partner is going to respect her boundaries.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) Carmina isn't really one to get jealous. She's seen how jealousy poisons a person and will find a way to work out her feelings constructively.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss their partner? Where do they like to be kissed?) Carmina actually doesn't like to be kissed, nor does she usually kiss people. If she does, it'll be more of a sign of affection than any kind of romance.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) Carmina loves children and if her life had been different, perhaps she would have adopted someday.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) Carmina can usually be found up before the sun, sitting somewhere she can sit to watch it rise.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) Calm and easy. Carmina is a morning person through and through, so going to bed early is easy.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) Carmina isn't afraid to show you what she's been through. Her story was one of tragedy and loss, but from that she became stronger.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) Her anger fuels her to action. She usually won't lash out at an individual, but she won't remain silent either.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about their partner? Do they remember every little detail they mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) She's usually very good at remembering things that are important to others. If she does forget, it wasn't because it isn't important to her too. She's just got a lot going on.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in their relationship?) Introducing you to her birds. She loves the crows and sees them as some of her closest friends; family even.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect their partner? How would they like to be protected?) Carmina is actually quite protective of the people she cares for. She lost her brother and her friends. She won't lose anyone else if she can help it. Any efforts you make to protect her will only make her that much more fond of you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) A firm believer in celebrating the important moments in life, she'll make special events as big and fun as possible just for you. Everyday tasks are a little less exciting, but if you do them together you're sure to have a good time at least.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) Carmina will vanish for days, weeks, and occasionally months at a time without a word of warning. What the heck is she doing? Only the crows may know.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) She isn't terribly worried about her appearance, but she's very proud of her hair. It's one of the few parts of her that still feels like her after everything that was taken away.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without their partner?) Very much so. Despite the people she's lost, Carmina can't help but form strong bonds with people.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) Carmina and Philip actually get along extremely well, having bonded in the Entity's Realm over a shared sense of horror over the things they were forced to do. Only Evan and Amanda actually know about it, since both the Artist and Wraith tend to keep to themselves so often.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) Complacency. If you see something is wrong, act or speak up. Don't remain silent when you have a voice you can use to advocate for what's right.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?) Early to bed, early to rise! Carmina tends to have a fairly regular sleep schedule, especially compared to so many of the others.

[sometimesraven]

The Cycle

Whumptober No. 11: “All the lights going dark and my hope’s destroyed.” Captivity | “No one will find you.”

Fandom: Dead by Daylight POV Character: Carmina Mora | The Artist Whumpee: Carmina Mora

The line between Carmina Mora and the Artist grows thinner with every waking moment.

AO3 Link

Occasionally, silence would overpower the screaming, violent orders in her mind. In the long stretches of time between games, the Artist would gaze out over her balcony, at the twisted, bloodied sands of her board, and Carmina Mora would surface.

How long had she been here? Carmina's chest squeezed and a squawk of pain found its way from her throat. It could have been years. Days. Decades or seconds. There was no time in this place. How many had she killed? Sacrificed to the accursed God of this place? Even now, she could not bring herself to regret. She could not find it in her soul to cease enjoyement of the slaughter. Why, after all, should she? Her kindness in life had led only to slaughter.

Her gaze lifted to her grows, still circling overhead in search of prey. She loved them dearly. She couldn't help it. How naive, she thought, to have believed they were there to protect her as a girl. How naive to not ralise she was being groomed for a higher purpose. Or was it lower? This purgatory hung constantly between a heaven and hell of her own creation. How much power did the Entity have in crafting these zones, she wondered? Or was it merely a piece of her psyche plucked from somewhere in the shattered recesses of her mind?

That was just it, wasn't it? This was all her fault. A hell of her own creation. Forced to destroy the lives of every human here, over and over again, and there wasn't even anyone who could come for her. The crows had seen to that. Her tormentors and protectors. Her only family and friends. One landed on the twisted barrier of her balcony as she contemplated them, watching her with a kindred, chaotic calm. Yes, this punishment felt right. What purpose was hope, when it had given her new life only to end it once more? Carmina eyed the twisted nubs of her lost hands, willing the ink that swirled above them into twig-like hands to pet her crow with, cooing unintelligably. Her company. Her loves.

Nobody was coming for her. Blackened tears dampened her cheeks at the thought -- nobody had ever come for her. As alone in life as she was in this half-death. Twisted, elongated limbs and a broken voice. Ugly. Monstrous. Her outside finally matched the darkness in her soul. Father had always seen this coming.

With another contemplative squeak, Carmina briefly closed her eyes. Her realm was so quiet and yet so noisy, the crows' cawing filling the emptiness so completely they almost became white noise to her, faded into the background. Now they provided a chorus; a crooked soundtrack to her doom as she slowly made her way on crooked, unsteady legs to the gap in her balcony's fence. Perhaps it would work this time.

A lurch, the violent power of gravity pushing at her insides, then darkness.

She had her hands again. Her fingers curled and flexed at her command. She could not see. Something took hold of her hands, almost tenderly. Then snapped each delicate bone, one by one, responding to her broken screams only with silence. Once they were broken, Carmina felt the sharp edge of a serrated knife tearing at her flesh; her fingers removed one by one, then the stumps of her hands, in a slow torture. A display of power. A warning. The Entity would not let her go. She owed it everything. Why must she fight?

The pain slowly faded, and The Artist opened her eyes once more.

[once-was-muses]

[id-rather-be-an-outsider]

Inktober

summary: Carmina Mora finds an interesting challenge on the internet and decides to participate in it.

word count: 625

a/n: I wrote this story as a Valentine’s Day gift for my writing club! Love Miss Carmina 💕

Ink black fog. Shifting, reshaping, reforming, flowing like a soft stream. Dull, vacant eyes, glassed over. The caws of crows filled her ears, first in a trickle, and soon becoming a rapid torrent, like the raging river below the DeathLeap. But Carmina knew that the soft stream and the raging river were nothing but different parts of the same whole. And the river flowed black. Black with ink, and black with the feathers littered across its surface, hidden in swaths beneath the brine.

A voice. “Carmina!” She whipped her head around. It was her friend. They smiled, relieved. “Lost in thought?”

Carmina shook her head. “No. Found in thought. I’ve just been inspired to make another piece.”

They grinned. “If only I could be fueled so steadily to create. What is your muse?”

“Agony.” Carmina said simply, and it reflected a thousand tears cried, day and night, over unspeakable losses.

Her friend didn’t notice, however. “Tragedy is our greatest inspiration, isn’t it? Though in some cases, the biggest tragedies are our daily woes.” They gave a chuckle. “Mine sure is. Woes aside, I found something you might be interested in. Care to take a look?” They held up their phone, and Carmina scooted her swivel chair over to get a closer look. Their screen showed an Instagram feed containing black-ink art.

“A local artist?” Carmina asked. She didn’t recognize their style. Someone new, perhaps?

“Nope. Just a foreigner, but their art isn’t my focus. See this?” They tapped one of the photos, and the full screen image revealed a graphic.

“Inktober,” Carmina read aloud, “Sounds like it’s made for me.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Her friend said, “And what better way is there to popularize yourself with international audiences than this?”

Carmina smiled at them. “Thank you for thinking of me. It means a lot.”

“Of course,” They replied, “You’re my friend, and I want to see you go as far as you can. I’ll send a screenshot of the post to you so you have all the prompts and the hashtag.”

The two artists went back to talking about pretty things they’d seen and heard that day — the sunrise, a child unintentionally sounding poetic when telling their mother they loved her, two lovers reunited outside of a community center, a feral cat finally letting a good samaritan pet it after he fed it for months. Nature and humanity can move the heart in so many ways, and one can never know exactly when it will happen.

After her friend left, Carmina set up her easel, grabbed an old pot of black ink, and began to draw. She was inspired, not by the pretty things, but by the dark and the morbid. She could never quite figure out if the images that haunted the reaches of her mind were a comfort or a burden, a blessing or a curse, but she always felt compelled to bring them to life, with her black ink being their lifeblood. Perhaps, she thought, her compulsion was due to the solace the nightmares brought her — in such an ever-changing world, it felt easier to dwell in the familiarity of the horrors than risk shattering her heart for daring to think she belonged in the light.

Whatever the reason, she found herself creating in the dim light the moonlight provided, as day turned to dusk turned to nightfall. This drawing, sparked by an Inktober prompt, had long since taken on a life of its own, as if every etch from her quill was casting a spell to animate it. The fog from earlier encroached on the corners of her vision, and Carmina thought to herself, I’m in the zone.

But of course, she had no conception of what that “zone” truly was.

[secret-bug-pain-blog]

Febuwhump, Day 4 - Knife to the Throat.

Out of order, this time! That mostly means the AO3 release'll be delayed here, since we want to release the days in order there. Also, a relatively uncommon whumpee - Carmina isn't great to include in all circumstances, but she's a Very good whumpee when she turns up. And as it turns out, she's very good for this prompt, specifically.

We're fucking around with an idea for a longer story, here, so we're leaving a few open ends - hopefully, that's not too much of an issue. We may want to actually use some of the plot here for a longerform story some time in the future. Sorry for the cliffhanger, we won't resolve it.

“Hold still.”

Carmina had really thought that she was done with attempted kidnappings by now.

You’d think that, after the first few times she’d escaped with hardly any effort, she would’ve stopped getting bugs trying to “deal with” her. Evidently, you’d be mistaken. Being able to pass as a more benign bug had definitely helped her career, but it tended to make hirebugs all too confident about taking her on.

And she had, admittedly, gotten a knack for pissing off bugs who wanted her dead.

She just wished it could have come at a more convenient time.

Working in the underground had its pros and its cons, and Carmina was, admittedly, the sort of bug who liked to gamble. Hopefully, this wouldn’t be too much of a holdup. Some bugs got way too wordy with grievances that could be far more easily summed up with “you beat me in a card game and I’m mad about it”, and she had to be on stage in half an hour.

Knife to her throat, heavily cloaked bug pinning her to their body, Carmina was surprised they hadn’t gone for something more cliché as an opening sentence.

“You know, you’ve been causing an awful lot of trouble for me, miss Carmina. For a parasite, you sure do have a lot of bugs willing to go to bat to defend you. You should feel lucky that I even bothered.”

The arm around her throat tightened – really, it didn’t do much, but Carmina wasn’t going to start criticizing whatever bug had decided to order her assassination over their methods. She couldn’t quite tell if they actually knew her species, or if they were just saying it as an insult. Usually, bugs picked something other than “parasite” if they just wanted to insult her, but any bug who had a clue how to deal with her species would have packed more than one knife.

They certainly had an ego on them.

She leaned back, more for their benefit than for hers – best to get it over with, before she was disqualified from the competition entirely. It wasn’t as though a knife would actually pierce her shell, but it got a lot more difficult to deal with bugs if she skipped the formalities. Whatever they were wearing, it blocked out their scent enough that she couldn’t tell who they were, but that mostly just meant she wouldn’t be firing a report with the guards. Not that she’d file one normally, of course. Just that it would make it more difficult.

“You’ve made a lot of enemies. Powerful ones. Ones who want you out of the way, so they can work without an annoying little ant in their business.”

Carmina knew that already. She gave a solid five out of ten for presentation, though. Minus a point or two for getting her species wrong.

“And who hired you?”

They gave a dull, dry chuckle, rattling against her back unpleasantly. “Oh, you already know who.”

She didn’t, actually. Being told that wasn’t particularly useful. She checked the clock out of the corner of her eye, ignoring their grip. Was it really worth it if she just spent the whole thing being threatened with vagueries?

“I have a match at two, and I’ve got a new set of cards in the main I’d like to actually use in a tournament, so if you wouldn’t mind-“

Carmina shifted to get out of their grip, and they tightened it, pinning her firmly to their chest. They were a lot stronger than she’d expected. She was almost impressed – had they hired a scarab or something just for her? It did make this whole situation a whole lot less convenient, but if worst came to worst, she could just…

They held the knife closer to her throat, and Carmina froze as she registered the pain of something piercing shell.

That was new.

“Glad that you’re listening.”

The bug pulled her into them, and Carmina winced as the blade dug further into her shell. She was beginning to regret underestimating the thing. It felt sharper than some blades she’d seen, and she knew from experience that it took a damn sharp blade to pierce her shell. What in the names of all the gods had been sent after her?

The cloak only made things worse. Scent-maskers were common in criminal elements for a reason, and this one, now that she paid closer attention to it, muddled scents in the indistinct, ambiguous way that spoke of something made-to-order to counteract a specific bug’s scent. It hung on them loosely enough that it would be hard to target a sting, tightly enough it was in little danger of slipping off. That sort of work was expensive – who the hell had decided she needed this much effort to take out?

“You see, there’ve been a few projects going on, lately. Things that need… secrecy. Things that need a tight ship kept. Things where listening ears… aren’t welcome.”

…were they going to kill her over fucking gossip?

The hirebug seemed to take her silence as a cue to go on. “See, we keep an eye on our information – where it goes, where the leaks are, where loose lips are likely to sink our ships. And you, miss Carmina… you’ve been sniffing around the wrong side of town. You spend an awful lot of time in gambling dens for an entertainer, you know? An awful lot of time in the blacker side of things, playing games with bigger fish, getting tastes of what the big bugs have to offer. And when the little foreign ant starts playing with fires bigger than she can handle... she gets burned.”

Gossip and gambling. Fucking gossip and gambling, and a bug with more money than sense, and she was-

“Did you really think we wouldn’t notice, when that shipment went missing?”

Carmina’s train of thought abruptly derailed. Shipment?

“What shipment?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, miss Carmina. You knew what games you were playing. Play nice with a few mailbugs, swap out a few envelopes… you get our information, and you know what we get?”

They took an envelope out from under their cloak. Heavy paper, reinforced back, the sort that you got when ordering things that couldn’t be bent. They flicked it open with a claw as she twitched her antenna forward, trying to catch any glimpse of their scent through the mix of herbs sewn into the cloak, shaking out-

Oh, shit.

“Playing cards,” they growled, fanning out what was definitely the new set of cards she’d ordered. Her mind flicked frantically to the near-identical envelope she knew was tucked away just backstage, ready to be unpackaged and shuffled into her deck, if it had really been-

“Now, miss Carmina. My boss is a nice sort, see? He’s not asking you dead, no, quite the opposite. He just wants you… out of the way. Permanantly, if at all possible. And while you’re hanging around, not causing trouble, he wants you to be able to watch as the plans you tried to intervene with unfold.”

Carmina did not want to think of what that could imply. She definitely didn’t want to see what kind of not causing trouble they had in mind, when it involved backing her up against the wall with a knife sharp enough to cut clean through her shell. She backed up, twitching her abdomen, dragging the segments against each other in a useless warning sign as sheer panic coursed through her body, trying to find some uncovered patch of shell before it was too late.

“That’s what I thought. Now, I would stay still, if I were you. This thing’s awful expensive, and if something goes wrong with it, it’ll be more painful for you than it is for me.”

Carmina did not hold still. She squirmed the best she could, scrabbling at their knife arm, feeling her mandibles fall open as the impulse to signal alarm kicked into gear. She needed one weak point, anything would do, anything-

A tiny patch of exposed shell. Not even as wide around as a single claw, hidden against the inside of their leg and revealed when she kicked them in the shin. A faint hope, but a tangible one, the last hope she had of getting out-

“What about stay still do you not understand?”

They held the knife closer to her throat, and she stung them in the tiny patch of exposed carapace. She jerked against their arm as they recoiled, forcing herself with a free sharp, ripping pain as they yowled. Whatever it was they were planning, she didn’t want to hear it, and she…

Oh.

Carmina stared blankly down at the sharp-edged gap torn in her carapace as she stumbled to a halt. Yellow-green hemolymph seeped from the wound, staining her fur, dripping down her front from a narrow gash no more than a few inches long but wedged all too deep. It broke past her carapace, past every defence she’d taken for granted, exposing her insides to the world, making her…

She was starting to feel light-headed.

“I told you not to resist, you stupid fuck. You’re lucky I wasn’t just going to kill you to begin with.”

They advanced on her, and she scrabbled to get away, her hemolymph beginning to soak her front. Carmina's claws were starting to go numb. She'd made a mistake, she'd been so stupid - gods, she was going to die here, wasn't she? There wasn’t much that could repair a wound like that, not unless she was going to use a gold crystal, and the chances of one of those so much as being around here was…

“Did you even hear me? Death’s not a mercy you’re afforded. Do you think we’re planning on propping up your corpse to watch our rise?”

Carmina didn’t answer. She felt freezing cold, all of a sudden. Her heart beat all too fast, pumping more blood she couldn’t afford to lose out of the wound in her throat. How long would it take for her to die? For any other bug, she’d know the answer, but for herself…

“Useless,” the hirebug muttered. They fumbled with a pocket on their cloak, pulling out something she couldn’t quite focus on and balling their hand into a fist with a loud click.

Then they threw it at her, and Carmina felt a brief burst of adrenaline flicker through her body. She threw herself backwards as far as she could- but it still hit her ankle with a loud crack.

It flashed, blinding her as she felt something shift in her carapace, felt something snap as her paw broke away at the ankle and seemed to peel away into nothingness. The world twisted, impossible sensations spreading across her body as her thorax, her abdomen, her other legs followed suit-

“You better hope this thing works as advertised,” they muttered. “If you die before I get my payment, then I’ll start testing if your corpse can still feel pain once you’ve moved on."

And then everything went black, and she could feel no more.

[kittybroker]

Great kitty of power guards over fate, fortune and the food bowl! Chant a spell of power to summon this kitty for the small price of $6.66!

velut luna statu variabilis, semper crescis aut decrescis; vita detestabilis

obumbrata et velata michi quoque niteris; nunc per ludum dorsum nudum fero tui sceleris.

[astralshepherds]

I really wanna try and lean into this idea I had that for my xiv ocs I would draw their outfit design and then try to replicate it ingame, maybe I'll have to learn to make mashup mods for it but idc I'm having fun so far. rákhel's dress in that drawing is one of my first current ideas, I wanna go for a dress that feels a bit like a blend of lolita fashion and traditional hungarian dresses ��‍↕️ I also want it to look a bit crowded and tack in places with some impractical parts here and there to reflect that rákhel is still young (23) and figuring herself out (especially in contrast with like, zhanar who is in her late 20s-mid 30s who is nearly always wearing armor or carmina who is in her 50s and is wearing what's basically just a suit but more decorated)

[carminavulcana]

"When we are deprived of love, we love what we can with a vengeance."

[eldritch-nightmare]

some updates uhm. i finished up cody's valentine's day prompt!! i haven't started on bo's or carmina's but hopefully i cant get started on one of them tomorrow if the universe will permit it.

[aokuro-san]

The truly impressive thing about this piece is that it fits absolutely any epic scene from any existing genre. Horror? Fantasy? Comedy? Drama? Suspense? Action?

It doesn't matter! "O fortuna" will always say… YES!

[sprite-writes-fanfic]

How the Killers from DBD would react to you slapping their ass.

Hey guys! Welcome to my silly DBD headcanons, this was just for fun, worked with a great buddy of mine @despacitobandito! <3 They helped me and we overall had a great time making this together so I hope you all get a good laugh out of this. Also! Apparently more killers have come out since Unknown’s release that I didn’t write down during the making of this, sorry for missing any new killers! Other than that, I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 390

CW: Crack headcanons, nothing graphic, some reactions you’d expect from a slasher, contains killers up to Unknown!

Evan MacMillan - Trapper

• Insulted that you would ever touch his fine juicy ass.

Philip Ojomo - Wraith

• “Oh..!” You both are really awkward afterwards. Like just awkwardly staring at each other in silence.

Max Thompson Jr. - Hillbilly

• He’s genuinely startled by you slapping his ass, a little flattered probably.

Sally Smithson - Nurse

• Your hand phases through her and she slashes the shit out of you.

Michael Myers - Shape

• The thousand yard stare before he’d stab you in the face.

Lisa Sherwood - Hag

• *Minecraft skeleton noises.*

Herman Carter - Doctor

• *Farts electricity and electrocutes you.*

Anna - Huntress

• Stops humming. Run. Dude just run.

Bubba Sawyer - Cannibal

• Squeals and cries, you touched his no-no square.

Freddy Krueger - Nightmare

• Turns into literal dust because that’s what he deserves.

Amanda Young - Pig

• Instant bear trap, you don’t even get to find the key, as soon as it’s on, it snaps.

Jeffery Hawk - Clown

• Burp and fart combo.

Rin Yamaoka - Spirit

• You cut your hand since she has a glass shard sticking out of her ass cheek.

Frank, Julie, Susie and Joey - Legion

• They all gang up on you and kick you on the ground, JoJo style.

Adiris - Plague

• She pukes on you, like a baby.

Danny Johnson - Ghostface

• He liked it so much that he hunts you down for you to do it again.

Kazan Yamaoka - Oni

• Feels his masculinity being threatened and he hunts you every game to beat you violently.

Caleb Quinn - Deathslinger

• You traumatized the old man.

Pyramid Head - Executioner

• Execution via guillotine.

Talbot Grimes - Blight

• Immediately tries to vore you but he can’t as he doesn’t have movement in his lower jaw.

Charlotte Deshayes - Twins

• Victor shoots out of her chest and mauls you.

Ji-Woon Hak - Trickster

• Promoted to side hoe and discord kitten that manages his social media; you’re forced to listen to his music on loop on Spotify. There is no escape.

Nemesis

• “S.T.A.R.S.” *blows you up.*

Elliot Spencer - Cenobite

• “I came.”

Carmina Mora - Artist

• Screeches and crows swarm you.

Albert Wesker - Mastermind

• Look of pure disappointment before he hooks you. “Look but don’t touch.”

Tarhos Kovács - Knight

• “Oh good heavens!” *His and him gang mori you.*

Adriana Imai - Skull Merchant

• She cyberstalks you and cancels you on Twitter/X.

Charles Lee Ray/Chucky - Good Guy

• Punted across the whole damn map.

Unknown

• Snap, crackle, pop.

[vish-the-wanderer]

CoTE opening quotes

a list of the opening quotes in classroom of the elite:

What is evil?- Whatever springs from weakness. -F W Nietzsche, The Antichrist It takes great talent and skill to conceal one's talent and skill. -La Rochefoucauld, Reflections or Sentences and Moral Maxims Man is an animal that makes bargains: no other animal does this - no dog exchanges bones with one another. -Adam Smith, An Enquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations We should not be upset that others hide the truth from us, when we hide it so often from ourselves. -La Rochefoucauld, Reflections or Sentences and Moral Maxims Hell is other people. -Jean-Paul Sartre, No Exit There are two kinds of lies; one concerns an accomplished fact, the other concerns a future duty. -Jean Jacques Rousseau, Emile or on Education Nothing is as dangerous as an ignorant friend; a wise enemy is to be preferred. -Jean de La Fontaine, Fables Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. -Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy, Inferno Man is condemned to be free. -Jean-Paul Sartre, Existentialism and Humanism Every man has in himself the most dangerous traitor of all. -Kierkegaard, Works of Love What people commonly call fate is their own stupidity. -Schopenhauer, Philosophical Writings Genius lives only one story above madness. -Schopenhauer, Parerga and Paralipomena Remember to keep a clear head in difficult times. -Horace, Odes (Carmina) There are two main human sins from which all the others derive: impatience and indolence. -Franz Kafka, The Zurau Aphorisms The greatest souls are capable of the greatest vices as well as of the greatest virtues. -Rene Descartes, Discourse on Method The material has to be created. -Florence Nightingale, subsidiary notes (female nursing into military hospitals in peace and war) Every failure is a step to success. -William Whewell, Lectures on the History of Moral Philosophy in England Adversity is the first path to truth. -G G Byron Don Juan To doubt everything or to believe everything are two equally convenient solutions;  both dispense with the necessity of reflection. -H Poincare, Science and Hypothesis The wound is at her heart. -Vergil, Aeneid If you make a mistake and do not correct it, this is called a mistake. -Anonymous, Analects People, often deceived by an illusive good, desire their own ruin. -Niccolo Machiavelli, Discourses on Livy A man who cannot command himself will always be a slave. -J W V Goethe, Zahme Xenien Force without wisdom falls of its own weight. -Horace, Odes (Carmina) The worst enemy you can meet will always be yourself. -F W Nietzsche, Thus spoke Zarathustra

lmk if you'd like explanations as to how these epigraphs relate to the story