verocities

[verocities]

illust commission works

[verocities]

expanding my stardew valley AU

i’m too lazy to think about all 8 million kids <3 there’s kevin joe and nick dick jason and tim

Bruce inherited this farm after Alfred kicked it

Started taking in newcomers to town as farmhands and they just never left. because love <3

The townspeople are in love with Farmer Bruce and give HIM gifts lol

The bats love hanging out in the mines! It’s funnnn.

[verocities]

had inside job in the background while working and wow i miss that show

[verocities]

my name is Cosmic and i'm really glad to meet you ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

✦ gen z writer making interactive fiction bc the brainworms won

✦ learning and screaming at code

✦ horror, forgotten memories, sad romances—you know, the usual

✦ ──────── ✦

✦ check out my game: Stillwater — demo is live

psychological horror | thriller | emotional damage

(about 94k words and growing)

✦ ──────── ✦

You wake up in a place that claims to know you.

The floors are warm, the tea tastes familiar, and the people smile like they’ve practiced it too many times. No one says the wrong thing. No one remembers the wrong thing. And when you start to notice the cracks, the world rearranges itself to keep you comfortable.

But comfort is a script. Repetition is a trap. And something in the walls is keeping score. The longer you stay, the more the town learns.

About your habits. About your mind. About who you used to be — and who you’re being rewritten to become.

✦ Meet the ones who’ll ruin you:

EMIL RASMUSSEN

26 years old. 5'11"

He’s the kind of guy who looks like he hasn’t slept properly in six years and isn’t planning to. The sweaters are always stretched at the elbows and pulled over his hands like he's trying to hide in them, and he’s got that kind of hollow-eyed stare that makes you think he’s either deeply perceptive or seeing dead relatives out the corner of his eye. Could’ve been a professor. Could’ve been a cult survivor. Might be both. Doesn’t say much, but when he does it’s with that low, slow voice that makes you shut the fuck up and listen. Smells like dust, cold coffee, and grief that’s been repressed so hard it started doing laps in his bloodstream. Has never once started a fight. Has thought about finishing a few.

FLORENCE AMRANI

28 years old. 5'7"

She doesn’t enter a room—she cuts through it. You’ll catch her leaning against a wall, arms folded, eyes locked on you like she already knows you’re gonna be a disappointment. Her whole vibe screams “don't touch me unless you want to lose a hand,” and the sad part is, you'd still consider it. Wears a tailored coat, steel-sharp cheekbones, and that little sneer people mistake for disinterest—until she decides to open her mouth and slice you apart with three words and a sideways look. She doesn't do pity. She doesn’t do softness. What she does is survive, and if you're lucky, she'll let you stand next to her while she does it.

VINCENT ROMANO

27 years old. 6'0"

Vincent looks like every guy your dad told you to stay away from and every mistake you knew you’d make twice anyway. He’s got sun-streaked hair, cigarette callouses, and a permanent smirk that dares you to test him. There’s a snake tattoo on his ribs and something worse underneath it. Jokes too easily, flirts too fast, fights dirty. Probably owes someone money. Definitely owes someone an apology. Never gives either. He’ll call you sweetheart right before he ghosts you and you’ll still watch the door, waiting for him to come back.

ORLA O’CONNELL

24 years old. 5'4"

She’s the smallest one in the room and still the biggest fucking threat. Laughs like she just dared the devil to try her, and honestly? She’d win. Nose ring, ginger curls, ripped jeans that haven’t been washed since the Reagan administration. She carries herself like someone who learned to fight before she learned to walk, and if she likes you, she’ll shove you into traffic and call it flirting. Probably has a criminal record. Probably doesn’t care. She's chaos with a pulse and teeth, and you’ll follow her into the fire thinking it was your idea.

AUGUST PARK

30 years old. 5'9"

Looks like a hoodie, a warm meal, and a shoulder to lean on—but you’d be a fool to think that’s all there is. He’s the guy carrying three lifetimes of unspoken shit under his sleeves, and he’ll still offer you the bigger half of the sandwich. Kind eyes, soft voice, hands that know how to hold and hurt. He won’t say much when you first meet him. Won’t talk about the burn scar, or the tattoo, or why his jaw tightens when people raise their voices. But he’s watching. Taking it in. And when you crack, he’s the one who’ll stay—quiet, steady, maybe trembling, but still there. Just don’t make the mistake of underestimating him. You’ll only do it once.

ELLIE

??? 5'5"

There’s something off about her from the jump. Too still. Too pale. Too quiet. She dresses like she walked out of a photo from fifteen years ago and didn’t realize time kept going. Her eyes don’t track right. Her smiles glitch at the corners. You’ll feel sorry for her at first—until she says something that pries open a memory you didn’t know you had. She touches the ribbon in her hair like it means something, hums songs no one else remembers, and talks about things she shouldn’t know. You’ll think she’s delicate. You’ll think she’s breakable. You’ll figure out what she is right when it’s too late to run.

✦ ──────── ✦

i live in the tags. send asks if you want!

[verocities]

One Foot In

You're dead. Sorry about that.

But hey, at least you get a ghostly front-row seat to watch your estranged twin stumble back into town and immediately start unraveling everything you sacrificed your life to build.

The Lebanese restaurant you bled for? They want no part of it. Those carefully buried family secrets? About to surface at the worst possible moment. And in a family where everyone's wearing masks, yours might be the first to crack.

At first, all you can do is hover and fume. Death, it turns out, comes with a strict no-strangling-your-sibling policy.

But here's the thing about being twins: that special connection doesn't give a damn about death. The boundary between the two of you starts to feel… negotiable. Suddenly, you have hands again. A voice. A chance to fix things... or make them infinitely worse.

With each possession, the boundaries between you blur. Who's driving this body? Whose memories are these? And when the time comes to let go, will you be able to?

Death sure isn't going to be the end for you.

[Play the Demo on Itch.io]

Play as an actual ghost. Start powerless, floating around your own memorial like the world's most committed wallflower. Gradually discover that death comes with some interesting… abilities. Who knew being incorporeal could be so hands-on?

Confront the truth that died with you: who you loved, or who you were. This is fundamentally a story about living—and dying—closeted. But your afterlife doesn't have to be that way. Your hidden identity transforms every possession, every family interaction, every chance at genuine connection.

Explore love after death with a best friend who can't quite let you go, an investor whose interest goes beyond business, or a fellow ghost who gets what you're going through. Death complicates everything—but love finds a way. It's… complicated.

Navigate the tight-knit Lebanese-American community that watched you grow up, where family reputation is everything, cultural traditions clash with American expectations, and everyone knows everyone's business.

Your choices reshape how people see you, remember you, and whether they'll fight for you when things get messy. Which they will. Frequently.

Save your family restaurant through community action, business partnership, or legal justice. Or give up on it entirely. Each approach transforms not just the building, but what your family becomes. Careful: some decisions can't be undone. You're a ghost. Not a time traveler.

◈ You - The Dead Twin

That's you. The dead one. The dutiful twin who stayed home to run the kitchen, perfected grandmother's recipes, and buried every authentic impulse under layers of family obligation. Congratulations—it only took dying to finally get your first real chance at honesty.

Choose your biological sex, your hidden gender identity/sexuality, your appearance, how you respond to and influence the world around you.

◈ Nour - The Living Twin

The one who left. Your mirror opposite who chose freedom over tradition. They're back for your funeral with all the enthusiasm of someone attending a botched root canal, and you can already see them mentally rehearsing excuses to leave early. Will you help them find their place in the family legacy, or give them the push they need to disappear for good?

Choose if you're fraternal (opposite-sex) or identical (same-sex) twins.

◈ Seydou/Safiatou - The Best Friend (Romance Option)

Your closest confidant who's been grieving you with suspicious intensity. There's something about the way they move through the kitchen now—like they're listening for your voice. Surely they can't actually perceive you… right?

Gender matches your biological sex.

◈ Adel/Adela - The Investor (Romance Option)

That smooth-talking customer who started showing up in your final months. Always orders the same dish, polite, tips well, and watches your family with calculating eyes. Now they're back with "investment opportunities" and know way too much about your family's situation. Their timing is awfully convenient.

Gender matches your biological sex.

◈ Finn/Fiona - The Ghost (Romance Option)

The only other dead person you've met, and they're about as welcoming as a health inspector. Bitter, dismissive, and makes it clear they're not running a supernatural support group. But they know things about this whole afterlife business that you desperately need to learn... if you can convince them to share.

Gender matches your biological sex.

◈ Georges - The Grandfather

The family patriarch who built this restaurant's reputation through decades of front-of-house charm and business savvy. Since you died, he's been deflecting questions about the future and avoiding the kitchen like it's sacred ground. He's always looked out for everyone else; who's looking out for him now that you're gone?

◈ Maroun - The Father

Your emotionally distant father who's always found customers easier to deal with than his own children. Your death seems to have shattered his composure, and now he's all hollow eyes and fraying at the edges. Which is just… weird.

◈ Yasmine - The Cousin

Your razor-sharp cousin who showed up with medical textbooks and her signature fierce loyalty. She's taking notes on everything like she's documenting symptoms for a case study. Her scientific mind could be exactly what you need to navigate this supernatural mess, assuming her skepticism doesn't become a problem first.

One Foot In is a browser-based interactive fiction game written with Ink by @remyvim.

This game is a work in progress and subject to change as development continues. Chapters will be released as they're completed.

Demo link: https://remy-vim.itch.io/one-foot-in

Current progress: Chapter 1 (~14k words). Working on Chapter 2.

First release: 2025-07-21

This is my first interactive fiction story, which I'm writing on lunch breaks and weekends. Updates won't be rapid-fire, but they are coming, slowly but surely.

One Foot In is rated 18+ for explicit language, death/grief, closeted protagonist, internalized homophobia/transphobia, family trauma, supernatural possession/bodily autonomy themes, optional sexual content (some involving consensual possession dynamics), and more.

[verocities]

Intro Post for my new WIP, “Cantata.��� If you haven’t yet read my completed IF, “Viatica,” you can find it here on itch.

KO-FI LINK HERE please consider supporting this IF and myself as a writer, this enables me to commission more art to share!

A low fantasy IF loosely based on the Italian Renaissance period, with a steampunk edge.

DEMO on Itch

SYNOPSIS

The story is set in Saleste, an empire with a long history of expansionism and colonization. It is a vast, wealthy empire, very much set in notions of classism and noble privilege. And its warmongering has only grown more brazen under the current regis (monarch).

Within the empire, technically citizens but not, are the Iredicci. The Iredicci are as much a religion as they are a race—less like priests and more like monks or shamans. The Iredicci can hear and feel the cordis, the harmonic pulse that connects all living things, and they connect to it through song. Iredicci have excellent hearing, but their defining feature is their voice—they have an echo to their voice, a resonance of two pitches at once.

A simple, nomadic people, the Iredicci were traditionally welcome in all corners of the Saleste Empire. But as steam technology progressed and the push for new resources grew, a prejudice developed against them. The regis spread propaganda against the Iredicci, painting them as an inferior, uncivilized people who leeched off the empire rather than aided it. Over the years they stopped being welcome. Eventually, their travel was restricted, and the Iredicci were forced to live in settlement camps.

You are one of the Iredicci, born into such a camp. The elders sing songs of past travels and wonders you have never seen. Ever the optimists, the elders tell you to take heart. To be thankful you are among friends and family. That things can’t possibly get any worse.

Until they do.

Historians and politicians would call it The Proelium, a righteous battle against the traitorous Iredicci. What it really was, was the systematic genocide of your people. In one night, soldiers attacked every settlement camp across the empire. No one was spared—not the elders, not the children, not your mother.

It was mere whim that you snuck out of camp that evening, a mischievous escapade with a friend that ironically saved your life. You are taken in by your friend’s family and kept safe. But with survivors being hunted and killed, you must conceal your identity. So, you pretend to be deaf and mute.

Journey through the empire of Saleste and beyond. Grow from a child into an adult. Make friends, lovers, allies, and enemies. How will they react when your secret comes to light? Will you abandon your song in favor of machine? Join the rebel forces against the tyrant regis? Will you heal the wounds of the realm and restore balance? Or plunge it further into chaos?

FEATURES

Play as male, female or nonbinary—you’ll be able to choose your pronouns independent of your body type.

Customize your character’s appearance and personality.

Choose your attunement/proficiency with the cordis. This choice will heavily influence gameplay, affecting combat, weapon specialization, character interactions, and problem-solving situations. Choose wisely!

Create 2 character names: your birth name and an alias. The Iredicci have culturally unique names, so your birth name will be limited to a preset selection. But you will go by an alias of your own choosing for most of the story.

Develop your relationship with your adopted sister. Are you friends or rivals?

Romance! Or not. Romance 1 of 5 possible love interests, including a late addition, secret RO! Or choose the platonic route with the best of friends.

Save a wild animal from a hunter’s trap and gain a steadfast companion. Because fur baby.

THE MC

The game begins with you at age 7. When you are 12, your camp is slaughtered during The Proelium. With your voice and heightened hearing identifying you as Iredicci, you pretend to be deaf and mute in order to hide your heritage. The main game occurs 13 years after The Proelium, when you are 25.

ROMANCE OPTIONS

Calliope Cato (she/her)

The inventor/artificer, Calliope can build and fix any machine. She is 2 years younger than you, petite, with gold eyes, rich brown skin and black hair in multiple braids. Her hair and clothes are adorned in rings, belts, and pins which double as tools. She carries a man’s cane sword with her everywhere, which she wields in a fight along with a hand crossbow. She’s curious, optimistic, excitable, and easily distracted by her many projects, but much of that is to keep her mind occupied. In quiet moments when she thinks no one is looking, you glimpse a profound sadness on her features.

Corinne Xenakis (she/her)

The leader of the rebels, Corinne works to overthrow the monarchy and aid the surviving Iredicci where possible. She is 6 years older than you. She is tall, with long, sandy brown hair usually worn in a messy bun or loosely braided bun, hazel eyes, and beige skin tanned by the sun. Quiet, serious and aloof, she feels a tremendous responsibility for those under her command. Corinne is a contradiction—she has the grace and manners of a noblewoman, yet fights with military precision that is uncommon for females of noble lineage. She is deadly when double wielding her flintlocks or axes. While not cold, she is not overly familiar or friendly with anyone, and very tight-lipped about her past. What does she guard so fiercely behind her armor?

Vicente Aloi (he/they)

The bastard prince, Vicente is calculating, ruthless and driven. They are the same age as you, and they, too, lost their mother the night of The Proelium, though under different circumstances. But while you were adopted into a loving family, he is the unwanted son of the regis, trained to be a lethal tool. He has long, midnight blue-black hair, icy blue eyes, and high defined cheekbones. The edges of a tattoo are barely visible on his neck above the collar of his doublet… wings, perhaps? It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful, though you’d never tell him for fear he’d take his rapier to your neck simply for looking. Will your plans align with his, or are you merely another pawn in his schemes?

Bayram Durmaz (he/him)

The son of the Aydem, the matriarchal leader of Tinebaille. Bayram is 4 years older than you. He has golden-honey skin, light brown eyes, and dark brown, tightly-curled hair that he usually wears back in a ponytail or half ponytail. He is tall and broad, muscular but not toned, with a rounded edge to his stomach and chest. A sprawling, colorful tattoo, the mosaic artwork of his people, covers the entirety of his back. He is boisterous, bold, and a shameless flirt. With his young sister bearing the weight of succession, he’s been free to explore the islands to his heart’s content, and is familiar with every bay, inlet, and harbor. He is equally skilled at wielding a spear, sailing a ship, and charming hearts.

CLICK HERE for a master post of all the fun, flavor text options in the story thus far. These are mostly insignificant, not plot affecting, and only for funsies.

[verocities]

i miss writing so bad bro

[verocities]

DEMO (TBA) | FORUM (TBA) | CHARACTER INTROS (TBA)

BLOOD AND IRON is a compelling and mature action IF made for an adult audience. This story includes content that some may find disturbing, such as explicit language, mentions of child trafficking, abuse, psychological stress, homophobia, intense violence, death, gore, and much more.

Inspired by John Wick, Ninja Assassin, The Punisher, and The Equalizer.

Chicago bleeds quietly these days. Not in the headlines, but in basements, behind unmarked doors, in the flicker of broken streetlamps, no proper badge patrols.

The world didn’t ask if you were ready. It just kept turning and grinding down the soft parts until only the sharp edges remained.

Raised in a hidden facility outside Chicago, you were one of many children—an experiment in obedience, efficiency, and silence. They didn’t call it a home. They called it a program. And you survived it.

Barely.

They stripped your name. Trained your body. Broke your will—until they didn’t.

You escaped.

The world didn’t know what to do with you.

But he did—the man who saved you. He gave you a name. A cover. A second chance dressed up as a normal life.

By day, you pass for normal. A name. A job. A face in the crowd. By night, you clean up what the system leaves to rot—organ rings, human traffickers, killers protected by rank or money.

But this isn’t justice. It’s personal.

You’re digging through the filth of this city, tearing up every buried secret, because somewhere beneath it all lies the truth.The facility. The man who ran it. Whitaker.

He’s not on any official record. The place that broke you doesn’t exist on paper. But you remember the rooms. The drills. The screaming. The numbers burned into your skin like a barcode.

Every body you drop might be connected. Every whisper might lead back to him.

You’re not a hero.

You’re a survivor searching for the ghost of the man who made you—and the trail of blood he left behind.

And the closer you get, the more unstable everything becomes—your past, your purpose, his goal.

You can follow orders. Break free. Burn it all down. But one question echoes through every silence:

Who will you become when you finally reach the end?

Play as male, female, or nonbinary.

Define who you are beyond the number—whether you seek connection, crave freedom, or walk alone.

Be straight, gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, aromantic, or asexual.

Establish your cover identity—first and last name. C-4 doesn’t exist outside the wire.

Explore Chicago in the 90s.

Experience flashbacks of your harrowing and unforgiving childhood at the facility.

Define your body and presence with scars, tattoos and more, including flavour stats that affect immersion and narrative tone.

Choose your ride, customize it, and leave your mark in burnt rubber and broken taillights. Whether it’s a snarling muscle car, a rumbling motorcycle, a rugged Jeep, or a heavy-duty pickup, you’ll be behind the wheel.

Choose your physical appearance, build and height—whether towering and lithe, or compact and deadly.

Meet six ROs, each with their own storylines, layered personalities, and emotional arcs that evolve with your choices. It’s up to you to decide how the story unfolds: as allies, enemies, or even the possibility of something more.

Get ready for action. This story pulls no punches—literally. You’ll be thrown headfirst into brutal gunfights, savage fistfights, high-speed car chases, and close-quarters takedowns.

Define your personality through detailed flavour choices: are you brutal or merciful, stoic or emotional, cautious or impulsive, friendly or rude?

Navigate the grim underworld of adulthood: surveillance, corruption, organized crime, and the scars of memory.

Shape your legacy in a world that tried to erase your humanity.

D-6 (RO)

Age: 24 Gender: Player-selectable (M/F) Nationality/Ethnicity: Korean-American Vibe: Ghost of the past. Loyalty carved from trauma. Quiet intensity.

The Operative — the life you left behind, still trying to follow you home.

D-6 is a shadow stitched to your childhood, moving with a precision that speaks louder than words ever could. They don’t flinch, don’t blink, and rarely break eye contact—yet there’s no threat in it. Just memory. Just calculation. The facility shaped them like it shaped you, but where you ran, they stayed. Hardened. Refined. Perfected into something cold and frighteningly still.

They barely speak, but understand everything. Loyal not by choice, but by conditioning—yet something in their gaze suggests the cracks are forming.

Whether D-6 is here to kill you, bring you back or break away with you… even they haven’t decided. But they’ve always been watching. And they never forget.

Detective Juno Reyes (RO)

Age: 33 Gender: Player-selectable (M/F) Nationality/Ethnicity: Puerto Rican-American Vibe: Gravely moral. Sharp-jawed justice. Righteous conflict.

The Detective — your ideological foil, and mirror of what you could have been with a badge instead of a body count.

Detective Juno Reyes walks like they carry the whole city on their shoulders, and maybe they do. Every crime scene clings to their coat, every unsolved case etched into the set of their jaw. They believe in justice, not the easy kind, but the kind that scrapes its knuckles bloody. The kind that keeps them up at night because they still think it matters.

Juno doesn’t trust you. Maybe they never will. But they understand you in the way only someone on the other side of the line can.

Where you cut through the rot with a blade, they try to dig it out with a badge. Righteous, relentless, and furious with the system that fails people like you, and maybe even with themselves for not walking away from it.

Nico/Nia Russo (RO)

Age: 22 Gender: Player-selectable (M/F) Nationality/Ethnicity: Italian-American Vibe: Snark-as-armour. Trash-mouth tendencies. Hot grease and soft heart.

The Co-worker — the one who has their worst days, yet still shows up.

Russo talks like the world owes them a fistfight and a cigarette break. All bite, all bark, and just enough burn to keep people at arm’s length. They’ve got grease on their apron, a permanent chip on their shoulder, and a mouth that never learned the word “filter.” You’re not sure they even like the job, but they’re here, day after day, late at times, but constantly grinding out those shifts like it's a special part of their routine.

They’re also halfway through a criminal justice degree at a city college they never talk about unless they’re arguing with the news playing in the background. Claims it’s all bullshit—cops, lawyers, the system. But you’ve caught Russo studying case law in the backroom between deliveries. Says it’s for the credits, but the way their jaw tightens during certain stories on the news? It’s more than that.

They're not just pissed off. They’re paying attention.

Kieran/Kira Myles (RO)

Age: 27 Gender: Player-selectable (M/F) Nationality/Ethnicity: Half White, Half Mexican-American Vibe: Fragrance, coded language, and too many knives hidden in tailored jackets

The Interloper — the one who wasn’t supposed to be on your radar—but is.

Myles moves through rooms like a whispered secret and the scent of money—sharp, intentional, impossible to ignore. Head high, steps measured, eyes always calculating. They speak in layers, smile in puzzles, and dress like they’re late for a gala or an ambush, maybe both. Everything about them feels curated, controlled… until it isn’t.

You don’t know what they want, not really.

One minute it’s intel, the next it’s something softer, more dangerous.

Myles wasn't part of your mission. Not part of your world. But now they’re in it, circling closer, asking questions with too much knowledge behind the eyes. You're not sure if they’re here to ruin you, or to remind you there’s still something left worth ruining.

Alex/Alexi Monroe (RO)

Age: 25 Gender: Player-selectable (M/F) Nationality/Ethnicity: Scandanavian-American Vibe: Softness meets suspicion. The light in the hallway. The warmth in the cold

The Neighbor — the one who sees past the walls and doesn’t look away.

Monroe lives two doors down and leaves their window open when it rains. They laugh too loudly at sitcom reruns, forget to water their plants, and hum under their breath while waiting for the kettle to boil. On the surface: harmless. Gentle. The kind of softness you’d expect to break easy.

But there’s something behind the smile—something watchful—subtly. Thoughtfully. The way someone does when they’re used to reading what isn’t said.

Monroe doesn't pry. They just linger. Just look a little too long sometimes, like they’re trying to put a puzzle together without knowing what the picture is.

And worse, they still smile at you anyway.

Rowan/Rhea Carter (RO)

Age: 29 Gender: Player-selectable (M/F) Nationality/Ethnicity: African-American Vibe: Revolutionary soul. Firebrand idealism. Beautiful, dangerous hope.

The Crusader — the one who wants to save the world, even if it means breaking it.

Carter speaks like every word could spark a revolution, and maybe it could, if they weren’t already carrying the weight of too many failed ones. There’s something magnetic in the way they move through a room, controlled chaos, dressed in confidence and defiance. Their voice carries conviction like heat, and they never seem to doubt it. Not publicly, at least.

They believe in something bigger. In justice. In tearing down the structures that rot people from the inside out. It’s not naive, what they preach, it’s dangerous. The kind of hope that gets people killed. The kind that inspires others to follow anyway.

Carter sees what’s broken and doesn't look away. They demand change, even if it has to be carved from ruin. That makes them dangerous. That makes them rare.

And when they look at you, it’s like they see the potential for something more, something bigger than just blood and vengeance. But whether that makes you want to run toward them or burn everything down before they get too close… that’s up to you.

Elijah Creed

Age: 44 Gender: Male Nationality/Ethnicity: Irish-American Vibe: Cigars, classical music, hollow warmth. That voice that makes monsters feel like myths.

The Father — the one who gave you a name, a roof, and a purpose.

Elijah Creed moves through the world like a man carrying both a lifetime of regrets and the weight of unshakable resolve. There’s a quiet authority in his voice, calm, deliberate, the kind that can soothe storms or summon lightning. His days are marked by the scent of cigars and the soft notes of classical music drifting through the rooms of the house you guys used to share.

He’s not just a guardian, he’s the father you never truly had, the one who took you in when the world wanted to erase you. Behind that steady warmth lies a steel core, forged by loss and haunted by the past. Elijah gave you a name, a place to belong, and a reason to fight, but never illusions that the world outside is anything less than brutal.

He is both shelter and shadow, a man who knows the cost of survival—and who will make sure you never pay it alone.

Ms. Claudia Bellamy

Age: 49 Gender: Female Nationality/Ethnicity: American (Afro-Puerto Rican) Vibe: Gold hoops, chipped nail polish, a cigarette always halfway gone. Keeps a revolver in her sewing kit and a bottle of gin under the sink.

The Landlord — the building’s backbone, eyes, and occasional judge, jury, and babysitter.

Ms. Bellamy has lived in the building longer than the cockroaches, and even they know better than to cross her. Her voice rarely rises, but when it does, even the radiators stop rattling. Always in gold hoops and a housecoat with yesterday’s cigarette still smoldering in the ashtray, she moves like someone who’s already seen the worst and didn’t flinch.

She doesn’t run the building. She rules it, half landlady, half neighbourhood matriarch. Rent better be on time, the hallways better stay quiet, and no one better mess with the kid on the second floor unless they want a lecture followed by a left hook.

She calls your new name like it’s your real one, sees through lies like smoke through sunlight, and keeps a .38 tucked behind the cans of beans in her pantry. Whatever history she has, it walks with her, but she’ll never speak of it unless the city starts burning again. And even then, only maybe.

Salvatore “Sal” Russo

Age: 47 Gender: Male Nationality/Ethnicity: Italian-American Vibe: Loud shirt, louder laugh. The kind of man who sings to the tomato sauce and cries at baseball games.

The Pizza King — a local legend with marinara in his veins and a heart too big for this city.

Salvatore Russo isn’t just the owner of the pizza shop—he is the pizza shop. Grease-stained apron, gold chain bouncing with every belly laugh, and a voice that could carry through a riot. He talks with his hands, loves like he’s got something to prove, and swears every pie has a soul.

To the neighborhood, he’s an uncle. To his niece/nephew, he’s a safety net and a headache. And to you? He’s the rare kind of man who doesn’t ask questions he doesn’t want the answers to, so long as you show up, work hard, and don’t scare the regulars.

Somehow, Sal always knows when to push, and when to just slide you a slice and say nothing at all, but could all the smile and laughter be hiding a deeper truth than what's shown on the surface?

Wheels

Age: 36 Gender: Male Nationality/Ethnicity: Polish-American Vibe: Motor oil and Marlboro smoke. Burnt fingers. Mismatched socks stuffed into combat boots. A man who can hotwire your car with a bottle cap and grudge.

The Arms Dealer — your supplier and the only man in Chicago who listens to Public Enemy while cleaning an M4.

Wheels moves through the city like a ghost with a purpose—fast, sharp, and unpredictable. He’s not just an arms dealer; he’s a craftsman, a collector of weapons with stories carved into their blades. Among his prized possessions are three custom knives, each named after people who shaped his life, two exes who taught him lessons in pain and betrayal, and one for his mother, the only person he never wanted to disappoint.

His sharp gaze misses nothing, always sizing up threats and opportunities with cold precision. Reliable when it counts, Wheels plays the game on his own terms, offering more than just firepower, he’s a lifeline in a city drowning in chaos, but one that carries a warning: trust him carefully, or not at all.

Dr. Silas Cross

Age: 55 Gender: Male Nationality/Ethnicity: Lebanese-American Vibe: Tailored suits under his lab coat. Surgical gloves and bourbon. The hum of high-end equipment beneath the jazz playing low through recessed speakers.

The Surgeon — not your friend, not your enemy, just the man who keeps you stitched together.

Dr. Cross is not the kind of man you thank.

You show up bleeding, broken, maybe dying, and he fixes you anyway. No questions. No judgment. Just the quiet clink of surgical tools and the faint smell of antiseptic layered beneath expensive cologne. His clinic hides behind the façade of a luxury med spa, but the back rooms tell a different story. Marble floors, climate control, and machines that hum like symphonies, because pain, here, is handled with elegance.

He wears tailored suits under his lab coat, pours bourbon like it’s medicine, and plays Coltrane through speakers you’ll never find. Every stitch comes with an unspoken rule: you don’t ask about him, and he doesn’t ask about you. His price is steep, but he’s the reason a dozen corpses aren’t yours.

He’s not your friend. Not your savior. He’s the man who puts you back together because it’s the only thing he still knows how to do.

Reese

Age: 12 Gender: Male Nationality/Ethnicity: African-American Vibe: Scuffed sneakers. Sharp eyes. A heart still intact—but only barely.

The Kid — street-smart pickpocket and your stubborn follower.

Reese has a grin too big for someone who’s had to survive this much.

He moves like he owns the sidewalk, dodging adults, snatching wallets, slipping through crowds like smoke. Every scrape on his knees and tear in his hoodie tells a story, and most of them end with him outrunning someone bigger. Or meaner. Or both. But behind all the swagger and mouthiness, there’s a kid who still believes in something. Maybe not people. But moments. Mercy. Second chances.

Reese follows you like a stray cat that decided you were home. Doesn’t care how cold you get, how many times you warn him off. You’re a ghost in a city full of monsters, and somehow, he’s decided you’re one of the better ones. Maybe the only one.

He’s smart enough to know what you are.

But young enough to believe that doesn’t have to be the end of it.

TBA.

Taggings: @interact-if, @interactive-fiction-recs-for-you

[verocities]

smiles

[verocities]

therefore hath the curse devoured the earth, and they that dwell are desolate.

therefore the inhabitants of the earth are scorched, and few men are left.

[verocities]

NO SAINTS HERE is an 18+ interactive story where you step into the role as the newest recruit in a secret group of immortal agents, you're the wild card—exactly what this mess needs. Inspired by The Old Guard and Hellboy.

YOU DIED.

The gods, or whatever higher being watches from the heavens, have dealt you a shitty hand since adolescence.

Now, thanks to that bad luck that's attached itself to you like a leech, being at the right place at the wrong time, you've become just another name on a long list of casualties. There's no one to mourn you, leaving you with a whole lot of nothing but painful silence.

But when you're there bleeding out on the floor, your life doesn’t flash before your eyes—you're seeing things that've never even happened to you. 

Memories of happiness you never experienced, love you never felt, faces of strangers you somehow know but don't.

Then you wake up—in a body bag, surrounded by the very same strangers you saw in those memories.

You’re a part of something bigger, much bigger than you could ever bargain for. 

A team of misfit immortals drag you into their reality. They’ve been protecting mankind for eons against ancient cults, government nonsense, and demons looking for their next meal. 

You’re one of them now, whether you like it or not.

The clock’s ticking, and shit's about to hit the fan.

TIME TO RAISE HELL.

Customize your character with several different options, including but not limited to: gender and sexuality, physical appearance, weapon of choice, and more.

Try not to die—too much—while you're learning the ropes, or maybe you're just reckless, doesn't matter when you'll come back anyway.

Romance 1 of 3 options, all burdened with the shadows of their own unkillable demons.

CODE NAME: VISAGE [he/him]

As the involuntary commanding agent, Visage bears an oppressive weight on his shoulders that he doesn't dare speak of to anyone else. He's the eldest of the group, whatever good that does. Visage is sharp and silent like the blades strapped to his waist; he hardly ever sleeps, and he's wound up so tightly, like he's running from something, that every time you're alone with him, he looks like he'll snap—though in what way, you don't know.

CODE NAME: SERVAL [she/her]

The ever-teasing espionage specialist, Serval, cares little about being serious beyond her role in the team; she's as capricious as a feline and the shit she pulls sometimes makes you think she's anything but the elusive expert her job title requires her to be. The way Serval looks at you sometimes is unnerving, sizing you up like you're her next meal, and honestly, that doesn't sound so bad.

CODE NAME: ENOCHIAN [they/them]

Enochian is the team's resident bookworm and occultism analyst; they're the one usually making sure nobody gets their head chewed off by whatever demon decides to cause chaos, but if you manage to snag a sample for them without dying? Oh, they'll love you. Enochian isn't the meek bibliomaniac most think them to be; they aren't afraid to get down and dirty, only if it benefits them.

DEMO (TBA) | RO INTROS

@interact-if

[verocities]

younger siblings am i right

[verocities]

Your armor and shield / The sword which you wield

[verocities]

historical art blog masterpost

I thought I would make a post collecting historical & fine art blogs I follow on here! Through them I've been able to discover so many artists and paintings that I might not have seen otherwise. Looking at a wide variety of art on a consistent basis is something I always recommend, and what better way than to have it be part of the social media feed I blast my eyes with every day 🖼️

@venustapolis

@dailyrothko

@dailyclassicart

@random-brushstrokes

@70sscifiart

@urgetocreate

@huariqueje

@beatricecenci

@leightons-s

@oldsardens

@dappledwithshadow

@classicdavinci

Along the same vein if you use Google Chrome I highly recommend this Google Arts & Culture extension, which displays a new painting in your new tab every day!

[verocities]

more jason-era thoughts. kind of a companion to this

hands up if you’ve ever taken out your anger on the wrong person. I’m sorry. he gets better.

bonus:

[verocities]

always so fun when dick comes home

[verocities]

saw a tweet where apparently guy gardners swag influenced a real kid to get a bowl cut like what timeline are we living in

the new generation of dc fans being guy gardner enjoyers bc of the superman movie is literally so funny to me like who could’ve thought