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Burial
2011.08.22 09:49 the_vowel_is_a_comic Burial
Welcome to the subreddit dedicated to the artist Burial. Releasing records under the pseudonym "Burial," William Bevan comes from South London in England, and is one of dubstep's most enigmatic artists. With home made chopped up beats, swooshing synths, and haunting modified vocals lifted from an eclectic range of pop songs, he brings his listeners back to a time when hardcore, d'n'b, 2step, and house music dominated the London underground club/rave scene.
2023.06.02 17:06 Akfanboy project poppy ch 1
I sighed. So I'm gonna get reassigned huh? I'm not apart of the c.i.a's gun running, drug peddling, and the guerilla warfare division anymore eh? I guess I'll miss air america flights. I then recalibrated my prosthetic right arm using a Philips head screw driver. Open close. Open, close.
After a couple of seconds my arm was finally done recalibrating. I'm gonna miss my friends. But I'll never miss the humid areas of laos, Vietnam, and some parts of china. The golden triangle is so goddamned hot. Honestly I don't know if it's secretly a promotion or a demotion. Or possibly I'm gonna get fired, and killed.
I'll get my name scraped out of the national files. If I get fired the chances of getting dragged into a blacksite is high, and I'll get tripped by the guys on one of the blacksites.
Oh god. I remember the LSD torture. It's like being awake but not in control. It's like being stuck as a backseat driver as people do unspeakable stuff to me. Oh boy if the public knows about the MK ultra test 2 oh boy. The people are gonna riot. It's already 2040.
The world is on edge, and under foreign influence for over a decade now. From the end of the 20's intergalactic travelers, and companies came, and control most of the world's nations within just a span of two years. They have the guts to exploit our resources, and don't give a damn about what happens to us. They care about profits. Except for the 8 major powers most of the world is under alien control. The only nations that aren't under alien control are russia, china, The U.S.A, great Britain with their manpower advantage given Australia is a British vassal state, France, Canada, Israel, and lastly an unlikely power the African union made out of 7 of the most powerful nations in Africa before the arrival of the outsiders are the only remaining independent countries.
Most of the intelligence agencies are currently working together dealing drugs with the outsiders who visit us, giving weapons to guerilla fighters, and getting weapons from the outside. Ships from an unlikely ally an independent economic alliance of nations named the syndicate allows to us to get some weapons. As long as we sell them drugs, and perishables from earth. It turns out the syndicate likes drugs, coffee, and other stuff native to earth.
Some of our intelligence guys are chatting with the aliens. The guys who are exploiting our resources are called the consortium. They are a consort of companies, and a league that agrees on how to manipulate markets. These guys are basically the more unhinged version of the wall street guys, and a mix of the c.i.a.
I sighed. "This is gonna be a long day ahead of me."
I then smoked a cigar. The cigar calmed my nerves as I inhaled the nicotine. The addictive substance relaxes me. Plus lung cancer isn't a problem anymore considering we now have a solution on how to cure it. The alien companies gave us some of their tech to show their so called sympathy before they flooded economies with consumer goods from their companies, and controlled almost all of earths economies.
"So agent smith. This is your new partner." A c.i.a handler said to me.
I spat out some ash from my mouth, and complained. "The fuck are you giving me a newbie as a partner? And what the hell am I gonna to do to need a new partner. Rodriguez already was fine yet I'm stuck with a newbie?"
The handler laughed. "Oh heavens no. This is an a.i. Codename poppy. She's your new partner in crime. Because we are gonna send you as a diplomatic bodyguard to the syndicate."
"Oh hi! I'm poppy I'm an artificial intelligence created by the c.i.a, m.i.6, the g.r.u, the s.s.m, mossad, and the s.s.a." The human looking robot said.
The voice kinda sounds synthetic, and the tone is too happy. I kinda hate it. I hate that it gives off happy go lucky vibes. I don't mean to be a grouch but the happy go lucky guys always die first. It's kinda ironic in a fucked up way.
So this thing is an a.i kinda like g.w. An a.i made by the c.i.a. G.W have made the internet more tolerable, and friendly due to context. People back then always manipulated facts into their political goals, and ideals. People get the facts misconstrued for political reasons.
G.W was made after a game character that was so prophetic about the world in the future. M.G.S 2: Sons of liberty. It has the same function as g.w from mgs2. It gives facts in a non biased way. In a way where people don't get their feelings hurt when something is given to them in a factual, and non biased ways.
People used to manipulate facts for political correctness. Hiding the fact that they misinterpret the meaning of those words. The internet used to be a toxic, and a fucked up place before g.w. Like Jesus Christ the goddamn internet was filled with incels, and attention seekers using facts and misusing them for internet clout. It was a place where no one is invalidated but nobody was right. G.w put an end to that era. G.w is now living in a secluded server thanking us for it's creation. It was phased out after it asked to be replaced by another one because it was sick, and tired of correcting people that get the facts misconstrued. It got to the point that it begged the c.i.a, and annoyed the c.i.a to the point that it wanted to be put in a secluded server so it could live it's remaining days in relative leisure just because it begged the c.i.a director so many times that he would get spam calls from the a.i using his official phone number even in the middle of the night for three straight years.
Anyways back to discussion.
"So you're one of those advanced a.i's like g.w?" I asked just to be sure I'm not paired with a dumb a.i.
"Yup. I even passed the Turing test in flying colors. I can feel emotions, do something out of spite or anger, and can think for myself." Poppy said with a dog like innocence.
"So what can you do?" I asked.
"Well. I can fly planes, use guns even those that people can't use due to physiological differences, and hack computers without being near the target. I'm basically just an a.i that can be a jack of all traits if given a chance." Poppy said.
"Fine. But you'll do it my way or the high way." I told poppy with a commanding tone.
Poppy laughed. "Okay boomer."
I sighed. This is gonna be a long day. I'm old as shit but not a boomer.
"Woah. You guys are already going along greatly. Great for you." The handler snickered.
He then left, and left me with poppy.
I'm fucked. "So I'm gonna brief you about the world poppy. Through a song."
I then sang bo burnham's how the world works song.
"Hey, kids Today, we're gonna learn about the world The world that's around us is pretty amazing But how does it work? It must be complicated The secret is the world can only work When everything works together"
"A bee drinks from a flower And leaves with its pollen A squirrel in a tree spreads the seeds that have fallen Everything works together"
"The biggest elephant, the littlest fly The gophers underground, the birds in the sky And every single cricket, every fish in the sea"
"Gives what they can and gets what they need That is how the world works That is how the world works"
"From A to Zebra To the worms in the dirt That's how it works Hey everyone"
I then pulled out a sock, and made it into a puppet.
"Look who stopped by to say "hello" It's Socko Hey! Where you been, Socko?"
"I've been where I always am when you're not wearing me on your hand In a frightening, liminal space between states of being Not quite dead, not quite alive It's similar to a constant state of sleep paralysis"
"Socko, we were just talking about the world and how it works!"
"Boy, that sounds complicated! Do you have anything you'd wanna teach us about the world?"
"I wouldn't say anything that you Probably haven't already said yourself"
"I don't know about that, Socko How about you give it a try?"
"All right!"
"The simple narrative taught in every history class Is demonstrably false and pedagogically classist Don't you know the world is built with blood? And genocide and exploitation"
"The global network of capital essentially functions To separate the worker from the means of production And the FBI killed Martin Luther King Private property's inherently theft"
"And neoliberal fascists are destroying the left And every politician, every cop on the street Protects the interests of the pedophilic corporate elite"
"That is how the world works (really?) That is how the world works Genocide the Natives, say you got to it first"
"That's how it works"
"That's pretty intense?"
"No shit Sherlock."
"What can I do to help?"
"Read a book or something, I don't know Just don't burden me with the responsibility of educating you"
*It's incredibly exhausting"
"I'm sorry, Socko I was just trying to become a better person"
"Why do you rich fucking white people Insist on seeing every socio-political conflict Through the myopic lens of your own self-actualization?"
"This isn't about you So either get with it, or get out of the fucking way"
"Watch your mouth, buddy"
"Remember who's on whose hand here"
"But that's what I- Have you not been fucking listening? We are entrenched in a way (all right, all right)"
"Wait, wait, no please! I don't wanna go back, please, ugh, ugh, ugh I can't go, I can't go back Please, please, I'm sorry!"
"Are you gonna behave yourself?"
"Yes"
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, sir"
"Look at me"
"Yes, sir"
"That's better That is how the world works That is how the world works I hope you learned your lesson"
"I did and it hurt That's how it works"
NOOOOOOO!!!
Drags sock puppet into a pocket like some introvert getting dragged into socializing in bars by extroverts.
"So do you understand know?" I asked poppy.
"That everything is made under the blood of billions, and we shouldn't make their deaths be in vein?" Poppy said.
"Correct. And we shouldn't let outsiders make our choices for us. We should kick them out." I said like some isolationist American during the 1920's.
"Ironic isn't it smith. The c.i.a used to be anti socialist but look how the circumstances turned the American government into. A social democracy/merit based democracy where politicians are based in merit rather than popularity. Politicians are insentivised to change the world than burn it down like some of the old presidents did. Ironic that america became something it hated. A weird mesh of meritocracy, democracy, republican, liberaterian, and market socialist ideals. Some sort ideological mesh made by idealogs"
"And it's working with it's remaining two Allies, and former enemies just to defeat a foreign threat. How poetically ironic isn't it? I mean the CIA used to go schizo mode when they hear communist, and socialist ideals or hearing the word russians, and chinese are plotting something. Now the country it help grew became the very thing it sought to destroy. Morbidly ironic isn't it?" Poppy said with a meloncholic under tone.
"Yeah. Specially the stuff we do now." I said agreeing to the statement.
"But that's how the world works. Everything must change. Either you adapt or die." I said with a meloncholic under tone.
"So do you know where we are going?" I asked poppy.
I then puffed up my cigar. Sweet sweet nicotine.
"Back to america. In the space port in Austin Texas. I'm already done contacting the contact the handler gave to me. E.T.A 7 hours. Now let's go to the laostian military base 7 miles north from here. Our air america flight is waiting for us." Poppy said.
I sighed. "Come ride with me. I have a motorcycle a hundred meters from here."
We walked towards my motorcycle. I then puffed up my cigar smelling the nicotine.
So my life is about to change huh? Eh. I'm just gonna adapt. After all in this world it's either adapt or die.
Click, click, click
Motorcycle engine starts rumbling.
Poppy then held my waist. It's hands are cold as steel. Colder than even corpse. I sighed.
The highway was almost empty. Everyone was working a 10-8 job in one of the corporations that control laos. There was no land vehicles transporting goods because the aliens are using their tech to transport them underground. The road was almost abandoned except for the guys who have motorcycle hobbies. Anyways it doesn't matter. After all there's no traffic anymore.
The fresh breeze calmed my nerves. It made me feel alive. A motorcyclist drive by me and waved hello. I waved back at the motorcyclist. It's good to be on the road.
After a twenty minute drive we arrived at the military base. Another CIA agent greeted us, and escorted us to the flight.
"So you guys are the diplomatic bodyguards?" Asked the agent.
"Yup. That's what my handler told me." Poppy said.
"So your one of the newer a.i models eh. Ok. Just step right in. Plus the flight is rather boring. Just sleep while on flight to save energy." The agent told me.
I sighed. I threw away the cigar, and slept through the flight.
A few hours later...
I woke up arriving at Austin executive airport. Poppy just sat there watching me sleep like some sort of creep. It made me a little bit paranoid at the unflinching eyes that was watching me. But I ignored my instincts, and went outside.
After that I ate something for breakfast. A couple of pancakes, and chicken wings. Poppy looked at me with envy. I sighed.
"Can you eat? Do you need food to survive?" I asked.
"Well.... I need glucose to recharge my batteries. I can also use a charger but it would be suspicious. So the glucose to energy converter was made for special missions so that I wouldn't blow my cover."
Figured. Those guys in the CIA RnD team are making contengencies for every eventual event. I then ordered a plate of syrup covered pancakes.
Poppy looked at me smiling. I sighed.
An hour later...
We arrived at the space port. People walked around buying nicnacs, waiting for their flight, and just waited around for their family members that were coming back.
Another agent came up to me, and gave me two tickets.
"Here's the tickets. Also have this. You'll need it."
The agent then gave me some sort of high tech phone. Then out of knowhere something exploded.
I was knocked unconscious for a couple minutes. When I woke up I was getting dragged by poppy along with the agent that gave me the tickets. She shot back at incoming enemies using alien tech.
"Ugh..." As I said that I began coughing blood. I looked down I was bleeding. My left leg was missing. It was slowly bleeding due to a tourniquet, bandages, and some sealing foam. It was still bleeding but isn't bleeding as badly as to kill me in just a couple seconds.
Gunshots echoed in the space port. Agents shot back at the alien attackers. A fierce firefight began. Bright lights like something akin to RGB lights but in a epileptic way we're seen down the isles as screams of both alien, CIA, fbi, and fully kitted out port guards were slaughtered one by one.
Poppy dragged me, and the other agent to a bathroom. "Sit rep." I asked poppy.
"It seems to be a terrorist attack. I don't know why but they looked like alien mercenaries. The question is that did the consortium hired them to kill our diplomat. Good thing the diplomat hasn't arrived. I checked the agency message boards, and they said that good thing the diplomat was sick after getting food poisoning this morning. They are already talking about it. Some of them are even suggesting that the consortium did this attack." Poppy said.
"So the diplomat got lucky. But why the fuck would they attack our diplomat to the syndicate? I mean it's counter productive. We don't need their goods or services considering the people here would rather choose human companies rather than alien shady companies. I guess they must've know about our deals with them, and decided to start a shadow war. A war in the shadows. The companies of the consortium vs the remaining independent government's. Who ever wins controls all the resources in the world." I told poppy.
She nodded. "Good guess but no one really knows. It's so sudden. We need more info before we act against them."
"I'll patch you up in the meantime. I hurried the medical assistance I gave you a couple minutes ago. I was hurrying because this guy is saying we need to leave after he suffered minor bruises. You blunted most of the damaged for him because you were in front of the explosion. He was saved because you were blocking him from getting hit by shrapnel. I cut you're leg off. Sorry. It can't be saved considering it was barely hanging on the leg. Plus I was running out of time so I had to cut it before you bled out."
I sighed. "Okay. Just get my hk UmP 45 inside my arm. It's in second the compartment a secret compartment. In the upper arm. I have a few mags of it inside the compartment. Here's a screw driver to remove the lid."
I then gave poppy a screw driver hidden in my pants, and saw her unscrew the lid off. A ump 45, and fully loaded 4 mags came out dropping loudly on the floor.
"Now carry me to the danger. I would rather die than suffer for years being reminded of the sad reality that I lost an arm, and a leg every time I wake up." I morbidly joked to poppy.
"Are you sure? You're injured! Are you fucking suicidal?" Poppy, and the agent said.
"Did I stutter?"
The two of them sighed.
Poppy then carried me in her back, and the other agent used poppy as meat shields. The agent held a Barretta 93r. A burst fire weapon.
"Ready?" I said.
"Ugh. You're lucky I accepted your request dumbass."
"Yes."
I was being piggy back carried by poppy while the agent followed us.
"Tango 15 meters to the left." Poppy said.
I then activated burst fire, and shot at the direction given. When I saw an enemy I aimed for the center mass. But I instead hit the thorax killing the alien instantly.
"Kill confirms. Enemy is k.i.a."
"Tango 20 meters ahead."
I then aimed straight forward, and saw a bolt of light strike near me. It was close enough to feel the heat of the round. I shot back, and killed the alien instantly by hitting the alien in the lungs, and heart.
"Enemy is k.i.a"
Then I heard a three round burst coming from a Barretta. I looked back, and saw the agent kill an incoming enemy.
"Thanks. So what's your name?" I asked.
"Oh I haven't properly instroduced myself. My name is agent Carter." The agent/Carter said.
"Thanks Carter. My name is agent smith."
"No problem agent smith. We CIA agents got each other's backs. We must stick together."
"Guys tangos incoming coming from the left. ETA 20 seconds."
We then aimed our Guns, and waited for the enemy to arrive. When they eventually arrived we moved them down with burst fire. After that a couple national guard guys came up to us. They were probably chasing those aliens.
"Thanks." One of the national guards said.
"No problem"
We continued, and after two minutes of walking we walked into a firefight. I smiled.
"You know what to do." I said smiling.
"Third party them?"
"Yup."
I then turned on full auto, and began to spray, and pray.
After a few seconds of pulling the trigger my gun ran out of bullets. Carter also ran out of bullets in his magazine, and reloaded. 3 confirmed kills, and multiple missed or slightly injured.
Oh crap. Then a bolt of light past near me. Enough to the point my right cheek got minor burns.
"Duck!"
I then began to be dragged by poppy into cover. Carter also looked for cover, and dived into the nearest cover. I quickly reloaded the mag, and started shooting at the aliens again. I changed the selector back to burst fire to conserve ammo.
I aimed center mass at the enemies. A loud burst of .45 ACP rounds was heard as an enemy was hit in the thorax.
"Kill confirmed."
I continued, and shot enemies in either the arms, legs, the thorax, or the chest.
After three minutes the firefight ended.
"Other sectors secured. All area's are currently in our control. Over 700 people died, 1720 were injured, and some were missing. Military and government casualties are 124 KIA'd, 24 severely injured, 57 mildly injured, and 38 MIA'd." Poppy said smiling.
Then paramedics rushed into the scene. People were rushed into nearby hospitals while I was dragged by a undercover CIA paramedic to a government safe house along with poppy, and Carter.
A week later…
I was standing in the military cemetery in Arlington national cemetery. Where soldiers who died without any identifications are buried. I saw burials around me. Soldiers who died without any family members, soldiers disowned by family, and other such things. But hey it's just the life of a soldier. That's what I know at least. From ranger grunt to c.i.a grunt. I was disowned by my parents who were conservatives, and highly religious because I was going to sacrifice my place in heaven to save some heathens from the middle east. I never regretted my actions. I saved lives, and ended some. No guts no glory after all.
Some of the people getting buried got medal of honors. Saving comrades in need of dire help in exchange for their lives, soldiers who rescued civilians in exchange for their own lives, and soldiers who honorably fought on to save others even faced with hard decisions.
I saluted the unknown soldiers for their bravery, and honor. In the background poppy, and Carter were talking. But that wasn't important. Bagpipes, trumpets, and drums play as the unknown soldiers get burried with their medals. The grave sentinels saluted while burying the dead. Gunshots in the honor of the dead was heard as the unknown soldiers got buried while being watched by the people who those soldiers saved.
After that I returned to head quarters with a prosthetic leg, and talked to my handler. Poppy, and Carter went back to the safehouse just to talk.
"Oh hi smith." My handler captain david said.
"Hi David."
"Here's another purple heart medal, and a bronze star medal." David then tossed the medals towards me.
"That's your what? 22nd and 23rd medal? Bravo congrats smith."
"I'm gonna ask you sometime David."
"Ask away smith."
"When will i get sent as a diplomatic bodyguard?"
"About three weeks from now. Also agent Carter is gonna be one of your partners for the mission."
I sighed. Figured.
"So who was behind the terror attack David?"
"Honestly. The CIA search the crime scene, and saw that the consortium blatantly did that. The mercenaries worked under one of the companies in the consortium. But for the public it's gonna be announced tonight that a rogue consortium PMC did that so we wouldn't provoke them too much."
"It's gonna be a long day smith."
"Yeah David."
Then David gave me a cigar.
"Wanna smoke?"
I nodded.
To be continued…
submitted by Akfanboy to HFY [link] [comments]
After a couple of seconds my arm was finally done recalibrating. I'm gonna miss my friends. But I'll never miss the humid areas of laos, Vietnam, and some parts of china. The golden triangle is so goddamned hot. Honestly I don't know if it's secretly a promotion or a demotion. Or possibly I'm gonna get fired, and killed.
I'll get my name scraped out of the national files. If I get fired the chances of getting dragged into a blacksite is high, and I'll get tripped by the guys on one of the blacksites.
Oh god. I remember the LSD torture. It's like being awake but not in control. It's like being stuck as a backseat driver as people do unspeakable stuff to me. Oh boy if the public knows about the MK ultra test 2 oh boy. The people are gonna riot. It's already 2040.
The world is on edge, and under foreign influence for over a decade now. From the end of the 20's intergalactic travelers, and companies came, and control most of the world's nations within just a span of two years. They have the guts to exploit our resources, and don't give a damn about what happens to us. They care about profits. Except for the 8 major powers most of the world is under alien control. The only nations that aren't under alien control are russia, china, The U.S.A, great Britain with their manpower advantage given Australia is a British vassal state, France, Canada, Israel, and lastly an unlikely power the African union made out of 7 of the most powerful nations in Africa before the arrival of the outsiders are the only remaining independent countries.
Most of the intelligence agencies are currently working together dealing drugs with the outsiders who visit us, giving weapons to guerilla fighters, and getting weapons from the outside. Ships from an unlikely ally an independent economic alliance of nations named the syndicate allows to us to get some weapons. As long as we sell them drugs, and perishables from earth. It turns out the syndicate likes drugs, coffee, and other stuff native to earth.
Some of our intelligence guys are chatting with the aliens. The guys who are exploiting our resources are called the consortium. They are a consort of companies, and a league that agrees on how to manipulate markets. These guys are basically the more unhinged version of the wall street guys, and a mix of the c.i.a.
I sighed. "This is gonna be a long day ahead of me."
I then smoked a cigar. The cigar calmed my nerves as I inhaled the nicotine. The addictive substance relaxes me. Plus lung cancer isn't a problem anymore considering we now have a solution on how to cure it. The alien companies gave us some of their tech to show their so called sympathy before they flooded economies with consumer goods from their companies, and controlled almost all of earths economies.
"So agent smith. This is your new partner." A c.i.a handler said to me.
I spat out some ash from my mouth, and complained. "The fuck are you giving me a newbie as a partner? And what the hell am I gonna to do to need a new partner. Rodriguez already was fine yet I'm stuck with a newbie?"
The handler laughed. "Oh heavens no. This is an a.i. Codename poppy. She's your new partner in crime. Because we are gonna send you as a diplomatic bodyguard to the syndicate."
"Oh hi! I'm poppy I'm an artificial intelligence created by the c.i.a, m.i.6, the g.r.u, the s.s.m, mossad, and the s.s.a." The human looking robot said.
The voice kinda sounds synthetic, and the tone is too happy. I kinda hate it. I hate that it gives off happy go lucky vibes. I don't mean to be a grouch but the happy go lucky guys always die first. It's kinda ironic in a fucked up way.
So this thing is an a.i kinda like g.w. An a.i made by the c.i.a. G.W have made the internet more tolerable, and friendly due to context. People back then always manipulated facts into their political goals, and ideals. People get the facts misconstrued for political reasons.
G.W was made after a game character that was so prophetic about the world in the future. M.G.S 2: Sons of liberty. It has the same function as g.w from mgs2. It gives facts in a non biased way. In a way where people don't get their feelings hurt when something is given to them in a factual, and non biased ways.
People used to manipulate facts for political correctness. Hiding the fact that they misinterpret the meaning of those words. The internet used to be a toxic, and a fucked up place before g.w. Like Jesus Christ the goddamn internet was filled with incels, and attention seekers using facts and misusing them for internet clout. It was a place where no one is invalidated but nobody was right. G.w put an end to that era. G.w is now living in a secluded server thanking us for it's creation. It was phased out after it asked to be replaced by another one because it was sick, and tired of correcting people that get the facts misconstrued. It got to the point that it begged the c.i.a, and annoyed the c.i.a to the point that it wanted to be put in a secluded server so it could live it's remaining days in relative leisure just because it begged the c.i.a director so many times that he would get spam calls from the a.i using his official phone number even in the middle of the night for three straight years.
Anyways back to discussion.
"So you're one of those advanced a.i's like g.w?" I asked just to be sure I'm not paired with a dumb a.i.
"Yup. I even passed the Turing test in flying colors. I can feel emotions, do something out of spite or anger, and can think for myself." Poppy said with a dog like innocence.
"So what can you do?" I asked.
"Well. I can fly planes, use guns even those that people can't use due to physiological differences, and hack computers without being near the target. I'm basically just an a.i that can be a jack of all traits if given a chance." Poppy said.
"Fine. But you'll do it my way or the high way." I told poppy with a commanding tone.
Poppy laughed. "Okay boomer."
I sighed. This is gonna be a long day. I'm old as shit but not a boomer.
"Woah. You guys are already going along greatly. Great for you." The handler snickered.
He then left, and left me with poppy.
I'm fucked. "So I'm gonna brief you about the world poppy. Through a song."
I then sang bo burnham's how the world works song.
"Hey, kids Today, we're gonna learn about the world The world that's around us is pretty amazing But how does it work? It must be complicated The secret is the world can only work When everything works together"
"A bee drinks from a flower And leaves with its pollen A squirrel in a tree spreads the seeds that have fallen Everything works together"
"The biggest elephant, the littlest fly The gophers underground, the birds in the sky And every single cricket, every fish in the sea"
"Gives what they can and gets what they need That is how the world works That is how the world works"
"From A to Zebra To the worms in the dirt That's how it works Hey everyone"
I then pulled out a sock, and made it into a puppet.
"Look who stopped by to say "hello" It's Socko Hey! Where you been, Socko?"
"I've been where I always am when you're not wearing me on your hand In a frightening, liminal space between states of being Not quite dead, not quite alive It's similar to a constant state of sleep paralysis"
"Socko, we were just talking about the world and how it works!"
"Boy, that sounds complicated! Do you have anything you'd wanna teach us about the world?"
"I wouldn't say anything that you Probably haven't already said yourself"
"I don't know about that, Socko How about you give it a try?"
"All right!"
"The simple narrative taught in every history class Is demonstrably false and pedagogically classist Don't you know the world is built with blood? And genocide and exploitation"
"The global network of capital essentially functions To separate the worker from the means of production And the FBI killed Martin Luther King Private property's inherently theft"
"And neoliberal fascists are destroying the left And every politician, every cop on the street Protects the interests of the pedophilic corporate elite"
"That is how the world works (really?) That is how the world works Genocide the Natives, say you got to it first"
"That's how it works"
"That's pretty intense?"
"No shit Sherlock."
"What can I do to help?"
"Read a book or something, I don't know Just don't burden me with the responsibility of educating you"
*It's incredibly exhausting"
"I'm sorry, Socko I was just trying to become a better person"
"Why do you rich fucking white people Insist on seeing every socio-political conflict Through the myopic lens of your own self-actualization?"
"This isn't about you So either get with it, or get out of the fucking way"
"Watch your mouth, buddy"
"Remember who's on whose hand here"
"But that's what I- Have you not been fucking listening? We are entrenched in a way (all right, all right)"
"Wait, wait, no please! I don't wanna go back, please, ugh, ugh, ugh I can't go, I can't go back Please, please, I'm sorry!"
"Are you gonna behave yourself?"
"Yes"
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, sir"
"Look at me"
"Yes, sir"
"That's better That is how the world works That is how the world works I hope you learned your lesson"
"I did and it hurt That's how it works"
NOOOOOOO!!!
Drags sock puppet into a pocket like some introvert getting dragged into socializing in bars by extroverts.
"So do you understand know?" I asked poppy.
"That everything is made under the blood of billions, and we shouldn't make their deaths be in vein?" Poppy said.
"Correct. And we shouldn't let outsiders make our choices for us. We should kick them out." I said like some isolationist American during the 1920's.
"Ironic isn't it smith. The c.i.a used to be anti socialist but look how the circumstances turned the American government into. A social democracy/merit based democracy where politicians are based in merit rather than popularity. Politicians are insentivised to change the world than burn it down like some of the old presidents did. Ironic that america became something it hated. A weird mesh of meritocracy, democracy, republican, liberaterian, and market socialist ideals. Some sort ideological mesh made by idealogs"
"And it's working with it's remaining two Allies, and former enemies just to defeat a foreign threat. How poetically ironic isn't it? I mean the CIA used to go schizo mode when they hear communist, and socialist ideals or hearing the word russians, and chinese are plotting something. Now the country it help grew became the very thing it sought to destroy. Morbidly ironic isn't it?" Poppy said with a meloncholic under tone.
"Yeah. Specially the stuff we do now." I said agreeing to the statement.
"But that's how the world works. Everything must change. Either you adapt or die." I said with a meloncholic under tone.
"So do you know where we are going?" I asked poppy.
I then puffed up my cigar. Sweet sweet nicotine.
"Back to america. In the space port in Austin Texas. I'm already done contacting the contact the handler gave to me. E.T.A 7 hours. Now let's go to the laostian military base 7 miles north from here. Our air america flight is waiting for us." Poppy said.
I sighed. "Come ride with me. I have a motorcycle a hundred meters from here."
We walked towards my motorcycle. I then puffed up my cigar smelling the nicotine.
So my life is about to change huh? Eh. I'm just gonna adapt. After all in this world it's either adapt or die.
Click, click, click
Motorcycle engine starts rumbling.
Poppy then held my waist. It's hands are cold as steel. Colder than even corpse. I sighed.
The highway was almost empty. Everyone was working a 10-8 job in one of the corporations that control laos. There was no land vehicles transporting goods because the aliens are using their tech to transport them underground. The road was almost abandoned except for the guys who have motorcycle hobbies. Anyways it doesn't matter. After all there's no traffic anymore.
The fresh breeze calmed my nerves. It made me feel alive. A motorcyclist drive by me and waved hello. I waved back at the motorcyclist. It's good to be on the road.
After a twenty minute drive we arrived at the military base. Another CIA agent greeted us, and escorted us to the flight.
"So you guys are the diplomatic bodyguards?" Asked the agent.
"Yup. That's what my handler told me." Poppy said.
"So your one of the newer a.i models eh. Ok. Just step right in. Plus the flight is rather boring. Just sleep while on flight to save energy." The agent told me.
I sighed. I threw away the cigar, and slept through the flight.
A few hours later...
I woke up arriving at Austin executive airport. Poppy just sat there watching me sleep like some sort of creep. It made me a little bit paranoid at the unflinching eyes that was watching me. But I ignored my instincts, and went outside.
After that I ate something for breakfast. A couple of pancakes, and chicken wings. Poppy looked at me with envy. I sighed.
"Can you eat? Do you need food to survive?" I asked.
"Well.... I need glucose to recharge my batteries. I can also use a charger but it would be suspicious. So the glucose to energy converter was made for special missions so that I wouldn't blow my cover."
Figured. Those guys in the CIA RnD team are making contengencies for every eventual event. I then ordered a plate of syrup covered pancakes.
Poppy looked at me smiling. I sighed.
An hour later...
We arrived at the space port. People walked around buying nicnacs, waiting for their flight, and just waited around for their family members that were coming back.
Another agent came up to me, and gave me two tickets.
"Here's the tickets. Also have this. You'll need it."
The agent then gave me some sort of high tech phone. Then out of knowhere something exploded.
I was knocked unconscious for a couple minutes. When I woke up I was getting dragged by poppy along with the agent that gave me the tickets. She shot back at incoming enemies using alien tech.
"Ugh..." As I said that I began coughing blood. I looked down I was bleeding. My left leg was missing. It was slowly bleeding due to a tourniquet, bandages, and some sealing foam. It was still bleeding but isn't bleeding as badly as to kill me in just a couple seconds.
Gunshots echoed in the space port. Agents shot back at the alien attackers. A fierce firefight began. Bright lights like something akin to RGB lights but in a epileptic way we're seen down the isles as screams of both alien, CIA, fbi, and fully kitted out port guards were slaughtered one by one.
Poppy dragged me, and the other agent to a bathroom. "Sit rep." I asked poppy.
"It seems to be a terrorist attack. I don't know why but they looked like alien mercenaries. The question is that did the consortium hired them to kill our diplomat. Good thing the diplomat hasn't arrived. I checked the agency message boards, and they said that good thing the diplomat was sick after getting food poisoning this morning. They are already talking about it. Some of them are even suggesting that the consortium did this attack." Poppy said.
"So the diplomat got lucky. But why the fuck would they attack our diplomat to the syndicate? I mean it's counter productive. We don't need their goods or services considering the people here would rather choose human companies rather than alien shady companies. I guess they must've know about our deals with them, and decided to start a shadow war. A war in the shadows. The companies of the consortium vs the remaining independent government's. Who ever wins controls all the resources in the world." I told poppy.
She nodded. "Good guess but no one really knows. It's so sudden. We need more info before we act against them."
"I'll patch you up in the meantime. I hurried the medical assistance I gave you a couple minutes ago. I was hurrying because this guy is saying we need to leave after he suffered minor bruises. You blunted most of the damaged for him because you were in front of the explosion. He was saved because you were blocking him from getting hit by shrapnel. I cut you're leg off. Sorry. It can't be saved considering it was barely hanging on the leg. Plus I was running out of time so I had to cut it before you bled out."
I sighed. "Okay. Just get my hk UmP 45 inside my arm. It's in second the compartment a secret compartment. In the upper arm. I have a few mags of it inside the compartment. Here's a screw driver to remove the lid."
I then gave poppy a screw driver hidden in my pants, and saw her unscrew the lid off. A ump 45, and fully loaded 4 mags came out dropping loudly on the floor.
"Now carry me to the danger. I would rather die than suffer for years being reminded of the sad reality that I lost an arm, and a leg every time I wake up." I morbidly joked to poppy.
"Are you sure? You're injured! Are you fucking suicidal?" Poppy, and the agent said.
"Did I stutter?"
The two of them sighed.
Poppy then carried me in her back, and the other agent used poppy as meat shields. The agent held a Barretta 93r. A burst fire weapon.
"Ready?" I said.
"Ugh. You're lucky I accepted your request dumbass."
"Yes."
I was being piggy back carried by poppy while the agent followed us.
"Tango 15 meters to the left." Poppy said.
I then activated burst fire, and shot at the direction given. When I saw an enemy I aimed for the center mass. But I instead hit the thorax killing the alien instantly.
"Kill confirms. Enemy is k.i.a."
"Tango 20 meters ahead."
I then aimed straight forward, and saw a bolt of light strike near me. It was close enough to feel the heat of the round. I shot back, and killed the alien instantly by hitting the alien in the lungs, and heart.
"Enemy is k.i.a"
Then I heard a three round burst coming from a Barretta. I looked back, and saw the agent kill an incoming enemy.
"Thanks. So what's your name?" I asked.
"Oh I haven't properly instroduced myself. My name is agent Carter." The agent/Carter said.
"Thanks Carter. My name is agent smith."
"No problem agent smith. We CIA agents got each other's backs. We must stick together."
"Guys tangos incoming coming from the left. ETA 20 seconds."
We then aimed our Guns, and waited for the enemy to arrive. When they eventually arrived we moved them down with burst fire. After that a couple national guard guys came up to us. They were probably chasing those aliens.
"Thanks." One of the national guards said.
"No problem"
We continued, and after two minutes of walking we walked into a firefight. I smiled.
"You know what to do." I said smiling.
"Third party them?"
"Yup."
I then turned on full auto, and began to spray, and pray.
After a few seconds of pulling the trigger my gun ran out of bullets. Carter also ran out of bullets in his magazine, and reloaded. 3 confirmed kills, and multiple missed or slightly injured.
Oh crap. Then a bolt of light past near me. Enough to the point my right cheek got minor burns.
"Duck!"
I then began to be dragged by poppy into cover. Carter also looked for cover, and dived into the nearest cover. I quickly reloaded the mag, and started shooting at the aliens again. I changed the selector back to burst fire to conserve ammo.
I aimed center mass at the enemies. A loud burst of .45 ACP rounds was heard as an enemy was hit in the thorax.
"Kill confirmed."
I continued, and shot enemies in either the arms, legs, the thorax, or the chest.
After three minutes the firefight ended.
"Other sectors secured. All area's are currently in our control. Over 700 people died, 1720 were injured, and some were missing. Military and government casualties are 124 KIA'd, 24 severely injured, 57 mildly injured, and 38 MIA'd." Poppy said smiling.
Then paramedics rushed into the scene. People were rushed into nearby hospitals while I was dragged by a undercover CIA paramedic to a government safe house along with poppy, and Carter.
A week later…
I was standing in the military cemetery in Arlington national cemetery. Where soldiers who died without any identifications are buried. I saw burials around me. Soldiers who died without any family members, soldiers disowned by family, and other such things. But hey it's just the life of a soldier. That's what I know at least. From ranger grunt to c.i.a grunt. I was disowned by my parents who were conservatives, and highly religious because I was going to sacrifice my place in heaven to save some heathens from the middle east. I never regretted my actions. I saved lives, and ended some. No guts no glory after all.
Some of the people getting buried got medal of honors. Saving comrades in need of dire help in exchange for their lives, soldiers who rescued civilians in exchange for their own lives, and soldiers who honorably fought on to save others even faced with hard decisions.
I saluted the unknown soldiers for their bravery, and honor. In the background poppy, and Carter were talking. But that wasn't important. Bagpipes, trumpets, and drums play as the unknown soldiers get burried with their medals. The grave sentinels saluted while burying the dead. Gunshots in the honor of the dead was heard as the unknown soldiers got buried while being watched by the people who those soldiers saved.
After that I returned to head quarters with a prosthetic leg, and talked to my handler. Poppy, and Carter went back to the safehouse just to talk.
"Oh hi smith." My handler captain david said.
"Hi David."
"Here's another purple heart medal, and a bronze star medal." David then tossed the medals towards me.
"That's your what? 22nd and 23rd medal? Bravo congrats smith."
"I'm gonna ask you sometime David."
"Ask away smith."
"When will i get sent as a diplomatic bodyguard?"
"About three weeks from now. Also agent Carter is gonna be one of your partners for the mission."
I sighed. Figured.
"So who was behind the terror attack David?"
"Honestly. The CIA search the crime scene, and saw that the consortium blatantly did that. The mercenaries worked under one of the companies in the consortium. But for the public it's gonna be announced tonight that a rogue consortium PMC did that so we wouldn't provoke them too much."
"It's gonna be a long day smith."
"Yeah David."
Then David gave me a cigar.
"Wanna smoke?"
I nodded.
To be continued…
2023.06.02 13:22 Boneyard_Tales The Church on the Hill
Short Synopsis
A young boy with an interest in local history and cemeteries learns about life and the value of friendship when he meets a child named Peter in the local cemetery that may not be all that he seems.
•
When I was a kid I had a fascination with graveyards, burial grounds and old churches. I wouldn’t call this a morbid fascination but more of a learning place for a kid of the age of 5 or 6 to explore death and what it means to be remembered by loved ones and friends. As this fascination grew it lead me to the study of local history which would become a keen interest for the rest of life.
My great uncle Tom, who was a mountain of a man as he had worked all of his life as a miner in the local pits, encouraged this interest I had shown in history and at my behest, after Uncle Tom picked me up from school, we would often take long walks with his mongrel dog Tina around the local cemetery. The cemetery was scattered around the large hillside of the local church on the hill. The church cut quite an imposing presence in the small village I grew up in, as it seemed to loom over the whole place sitting high above the rows of houses, local pub and farms. Everyone in the village attended the church at least a few times a week, but at night it was considered a spooky place to the children in the village and my friends considered me very odd and often ridiculed me for my interest in the place and I gained the affectionate nickname Spooky Steven. This wasn’t a bad thing, it was just kids playing around and now we are all grown, we often all sit together having a pint in the local pub and laugh about it. I had my fair share of pokes of fun at them too when we were kids, there was no Internet or game consoles back in those days, so entertainment was what we would make it.
The church was ancient and had gravestones and markers now crumbling with the decay of age that dated as far back as the Anglo Saxon period of Great Britain. This history always fascinated me and it became a common practice for me to head to the graveyard, most often alone in my youth, and make grave rubbings to find names from the past and look them up in the local archives at the town library. This small library was full of old documents such as land registry papers and birth or death records which dated back for hundreds of years, it was like google before computers. I would spend hours in there till closing time at 6pm, looking through all these ancient records and when names came up again and again in certain papers, you could slowly build up a picture of someone’s life. You could see when they were born, who they worked for, who they married and how their lives progressed, most of the older papers ended up with people inheriting land or buying farms and making their way as countryside workers, it was enthralling to me. I think it made me realise early in my life, that if you say someone’s name aloud or read it, that person’s memory is still alive. Even at a young age I found that rather comforting.
Listening to this I’m sure you can imagine I was a bit of a loner, you don’t get the nickname Spooky Steven for being the captain of the football team. No-one was ever cruel to me or anything, I was bullied a little for being different and that was upsetting at times but I wasn’t bothered and I always just kind of did my own thing, so you can imagine I was happy when at about 12 years of age I found a friend who was interested in the same things as I was.
One beautiful summer afternoon while in the graveyard among some shady ancient oaks swaying in the breeze, I was taking some graphite rubbings in a particularly old part of the cemetery and I meet a boy named Peter. Looking back it’s strange that I didn’t know Peter from school, but you don’t think about these things at a young age. When ever I was in that part of the cemetery Peter would often turn up unexpectedly and talk to me about what I was doing and why I was interested in these old names from the past. He was full of information and seemed old for his 13 years, he talked about a lot of the old names on the gravestones as if they were still living. He would tell me about Mr Jones the welsh baker, who spoke with such a strong accent that he was hard to understand and how John Blakley the blacksmith would often let the local children into his shop and teach them how to use the kilns and pay them a small wage for helping him keep the fires burning good and hot. I checked out all of these people that Peter talked about in the library and they were all legitimate people who had lived in the town often hundreds of years in the past. I didn’t question this as Peter would have access to the same documents from history that I did, but I had never seen Peter in the library and I was there most afternoons.
On another occasion Peter told me that he was made to leave school and work from a young age because his father had died in a farming accident, so he had been put to work to help support his family. These times I met Peter we’re all in the late 1980’s and early 90’s and it was only when I began to get a little older that I started to think Peter was not from around here. There was no way a boy of 13 years old would be allowed to work at the hard labour Jobs that Peter talked about doing. Drystone walling or working in the fields are highly dangerous jobs that deal with heavy equipment and chemicals that a child of that age would never be allowed to use in this day and age. But, still I thought nothing of it at first, my young ego thought that maybe he was trying to impress me so I would be his friend. I started to ask about him at school amongst my friends and then the teachers and no-one knew who this boy was. I was again ridiculed for having an imaginary friend so I took a bunch of school friends to the church yard to meet him, but he would never show when I was there with other people. This became very frustrating, so I stopped talking about him.
After about a year or two of meeting with Peter on a few different occasions in the cemetery, I began to notice things that were odd or different about him. The clothes he wore seemed old fashioned and unlike me he didn’t seem to be getting any older, at that age kids grow at an accelerated rate and I was already almost a whole foot taller, but Peter had remained the same. On the last day I saw Peter in those years I questioned him about his clothes and the way he looked and he took great offence to this, his eyes welled up and tears began to roll down his cheeks. I told him I was sorry and that I wouldn’t mention this again, he then said to me some words that I will never forget “Its ok” he said through his tears “It’s been my absolute pleasure to spend this time with you. Just do me a small solid and say my name every once in a while when you are here, I’d appreciate that” he then smiled at me in a way that breaks my heart when I remember it and walked away into a shady part of the cemetery and that was the last time I would see him as a child.
By the time I was around 16 years of age the local historian knew me by name and we had developed a friendship and she began to tell me stories from the past which were not written in any of the history books. Some of the stories she told me were spooky ones about hauntings and other strange paranormal stories of local legends. Because of this interest she had and the passion with which she told me these tales of local occurrences, I felt comfortable enough with her to mention Peter. Her eyes lit up and she asked me to please tell her more. I told her everything and we stayed together well passed closing time looking up names and histories of local residents but we couldn’t find anything about about a young local worker named Peter, however we did find information in a record about the death of a local farmer in his 40s who was crushed in an accident with his wheat plough in the summer of 1889. The strangest part of the story is still to come.
Later in life when I turned 18 I was a regular in the village pub and became very friendly with the landlord and often did shifts in the bar serving in the evening to help pay my way through college where I took a bachelor’s degree in history. In the summer for extra pay the landlord asked me if I were interested in clearing out some of the old attic spaces to get the place ready for an extension that they were going to build. The extra money was welcome so I agreed and that is where the most amazing thing happened. Amongst all the cobweb ridden stacks of books, papers and a wealth of old furniture I found a framed portrait from a very old 1890’s camera. The picture was of a boy laying dead on a bed of flowers on one of the big old wooden tables in the pub, it was Peter. I rummaged around and to my amazement I found hidden in the back of the frame an old newspaper clipping about the death of a 13 year old chimney sweep named Peter Robinson. I was not afraid, but the revelation came as more a relief to know that perhaps I wasn’t crazy and that Peter had reached out to me from somewhere beyond our own understanding of this world. I chose not to mention this to anyone as Peter had never shown himself to anyone else and it felt it would have betrayed our friendship that had occurred in those early years of my youth.
A few weeks later I found myself drawn back to that shady part of the church on the hill amongst those ancient oaks and mossy gravestones with bottle of beer in my hand. It was a beautiful day, there was a gentle breeze and the crickets, birds and insects chatted in the gentle afternoon, just like those summer days I had spend in this place as child with my Uncle Tom and Tina who were now themselves long since departed. I rose the bottle of beer in the air and said Peter’s name out loud and for a brief moment, from the corner of my eye I thought I saw the flicker of a boy standing in the distance in the summer shade and a smile spread across my face. That day I learned a lesson for good, that if we think of those who are dead and gone and remember them out loud they will live on and never be forgotten.
The End
Written By John Renney
submitted by Boneyard_Tales to ChillingApp [link] [comments]
A young boy with an interest in local history and cemeteries learns about life and the value of friendship when he meets a child named Peter in the local cemetery that may not be all that he seems.
•
When I was a kid I had a fascination with graveyards, burial grounds and old churches. I wouldn’t call this a morbid fascination but more of a learning place for a kid of the age of 5 or 6 to explore death and what it means to be remembered by loved ones and friends. As this fascination grew it lead me to the study of local history which would become a keen interest for the rest of life.
My great uncle Tom, who was a mountain of a man as he had worked all of his life as a miner in the local pits, encouraged this interest I had shown in history and at my behest, after Uncle Tom picked me up from school, we would often take long walks with his mongrel dog Tina around the local cemetery. The cemetery was scattered around the large hillside of the local church on the hill. The church cut quite an imposing presence in the small village I grew up in, as it seemed to loom over the whole place sitting high above the rows of houses, local pub and farms. Everyone in the village attended the church at least a few times a week, but at night it was considered a spooky place to the children in the village and my friends considered me very odd and often ridiculed me for my interest in the place and I gained the affectionate nickname Spooky Steven. This wasn’t a bad thing, it was just kids playing around and now we are all grown, we often all sit together having a pint in the local pub and laugh about it. I had my fair share of pokes of fun at them too when we were kids, there was no Internet or game consoles back in those days, so entertainment was what we would make it.
The church was ancient and had gravestones and markers now crumbling with the decay of age that dated as far back as the Anglo Saxon period of Great Britain. This history always fascinated me and it became a common practice for me to head to the graveyard, most often alone in my youth, and make grave rubbings to find names from the past and look them up in the local archives at the town library. This small library was full of old documents such as land registry papers and birth or death records which dated back for hundreds of years, it was like google before computers. I would spend hours in there till closing time at 6pm, looking through all these ancient records and when names came up again and again in certain papers, you could slowly build up a picture of someone’s life. You could see when they were born, who they worked for, who they married and how their lives progressed, most of the older papers ended up with people inheriting land or buying farms and making their way as countryside workers, it was enthralling to me. I think it made me realise early in my life, that if you say someone’s name aloud or read it, that person’s memory is still alive. Even at a young age I found that rather comforting.
Listening to this I’m sure you can imagine I was a bit of a loner, you don’t get the nickname Spooky Steven for being the captain of the football team. No-one was ever cruel to me or anything, I was bullied a little for being different and that was upsetting at times but I wasn’t bothered and I always just kind of did my own thing, so you can imagine I was happy when at about 12 years of age I found a friend who was interested in the same things as I was.
One beautiful summer afternoon while in the graveyard among some shady ancient oaks swaying in the breeze, I was taking some graphite rubbings in a particularly old part of the cemetery and I meet a boy named Peter. Looking back it’s strange that I didn’t know Peter from school, but you don’t think about these things at a young age. When ever I was in that part of the cemetery Peter would often turn up unexpectedly and talk to me about what I was doing and why I was interested in these old names from the past. He was full of information and seemed old for his 13 years, he talked about a lot of the old names on the gravestones as if they were still living. He would tell me about Mr Jones the welsh baker, who spoke with such a strong accent that he was hard to understand and how John Blakley the blacksmith would often let the local children into his shop and teach them how to use the kilns and pay them a small wage for helping him keep the fires burning good and hot. I checked out all of these people that Peter talked about in the library and they were all legitimate people who had lived in the town often hundreds of years in the past. I didn’t question this as Peter would have access to the same documents from history that I did, but I had never seen Peter in the library and I was there most afternoons.
On another occasion Peter told me that he was made to leave school and work from a young age because his father had died in a farming accident, so he had been put to work to help support his family. These times I met Peter we’re all in the late 1980’s and early 90’s and it was only when I began to get a little older that I started to think Peter was not from around here. There was no way a boy of 13 years old would be allowed to work at the hard labour Jobs that Peter talked about doing. Drystone walling or working in the fields are highly dangerous jobs that deal with heavy equipment and chemicals that a child of that age would never be allowed to use in this day and age. But, still I thought nothing of it at first, my young ego thought that maybe he was trying to impress me so I would be his friend. I started to ask about him at school amongst my friends and then the teachers and no-one knew who this boy was. I was again ridiculed for having an imaginary friend so I took a bunch of school friends to the church yard to meet him, but he would never show when I was there with other people. This became very frustrating, so I stopped talking about him.
After about a year or two of meeting with Peter on a few different occasions in the cemetery, I began to notice things that were odd or different about him. The clothes he wore seemed old fashioned and unlike me he didn’t seem to be getting any older, at that age kids grow at an accelerated rate and I was already almost a whole foot taller, but Peter had remained the same. On the last day I saw Peter in those years I questioned him about his clothes and the way he looked and he took great offence to this, his eyes welled up and tears began to roll down his cheeks. I told him I was sorry and that I wouldn’t mention this again, he then said to me some words that I will never forget “Its ok” he said through his tears “It’s been my absolute pleasure to spend this time with you. Just do me a small solid and say my name every once in a while when you are here, I’d appreciate that” he then smiled at me in a way that breaks my heart when I remember it and walked away into a shady part of the cemetery and that was the last time I would see him as a child.
By the time I was around 16 years of age the local historian knew me by name and we had developed a friendship and she began to tell me stories from the past which were not written in any of the history books. Some of the stories she told me were spooky ones about hauntings and other strange paranormal stories of local legends. Because of this interest she had and the passion with which she told me these tales of local occurrences, I felt comfortable enough with her to mention Peter. Her eyes lit up and she asked me to please tell her more. I told her everything and we stayed together well passed closing time looking up names and histories of local residents but we couldn’t find anything about about a young local worker named Peter, however we did find information in a record about the death of a local farmer in his 40s who was crushed in an accident with his wheat plough in the summer of 1889. The strangest part of the story is still to come.
Later in life when I turned 18 I was a regular in the village pub and became very friendly with the landlord and often did shifts in the bar serving in the evening to help pay my way through college where I took a bachelor’s degree in history. In the summer for extra pay the landlord asked me if I were interested in clearing out some of the old attic spaces to get the place ready for an extension that they were going to build. The extra money was welcome so I agreed and that is where the most amazing thing happened. Amongst all the cobweb ridden stacks of books, papers and a wealth of old furniture I found a framed portrait from a very old 1890’s camera. The picture was of a boy laying dead on a bed of flowers on one of the big old wooden tables in the pub, it was Peter. I rummaged around and to my amazement I found hidden in the back of the frame an old newspaper clipping about the death of a 13 year old chimney sweep named Peter Robinson. I was not afraid, but the revelation came as more a relief to know that perhaps I wasn’t crazy and that Peter had reached out to me from somewhere beyond our own understanding of this world. I chose not to mention this to anyone as Peter had never shown himself to anyone else and it felt it would have betrayed our friendship that had occurred in those early years of my youth.
A few weeks later I found myself drawn back to that shady part of the church on the hill amongst those ancient oaks and mossy gravestones with bottle of beer in my hand. It was a beautiful day, there was a gentle breeze and the crickets, birds and insects chatted in the gentle afternoon, just like those summer days I had spend in this place as child with my Uncle Tom and Tina who were now themselves long since departed. I rose the bottle of beer in the air and said Peter’s name out loud and for a brief moment, from the corner of my eye I thought I saw the flicker of a boy standing in the distance in the summer shade and a smile spread across my face. That day I learned a lesson for good, that if we think of those who are dead and gone and remember them out loud they will live on and never be forgotten.
The End
Written By John Renney
2023.06.02 11:29 swedishfiskmafia Guy lied about his credentials online. I contacted the departments he allegedly studied at, and they all said THEY DIDN'T KNOW HIM
A guy I got into a row with on a Facebook group lied about his credentials online when he felt threatened by me, and started spewing nonsense about how I'm probably not a graduate of the school that's written both on my Facebook and my professional page. Prior to this, he was very rude, crass, and disrespectful to people that call him out on his bullshit -- instead of defending himself properly, he'll result to childish insults and personally attacking you when he has nothing else to back up his claims. He claims to be a religious educator, yet his actions show anything BUT religious.
Anyway, he made the mistake of giving out his "ID number" and "degree" at School A (where a close friend of mine graduated), and his "program" that he was currently taking in School B (where I graduated, and is close with the program secretary) when we were having a row. A quick google search also connected me to his linkedin, where he has indeed listed both schools down, but it is very inconsistent with the entry/graduation dates he gave me.
I let it slide for a day after the argument simmered down, but this morning, I noticed he took a very obvious jab at me at the same Facebook group we bickered at. It was written in our language, but it roughly translated to "there's this one person here (in the comment section) that allegedly graduated from a prestigious university, but her personality is trash." As a naturally petty person, I obviously did not let it slide.
The answer from the Dean himself? "I don’t know him and he had never been my student." Satisfaction ✔️
I'm biding for the right time to show these messages from the two departments for when he acts up again so he could finally shut up, but damn the satisfaction was real. Furthermore, when I changed my picture to a picture of me in my toga (which is very distinct, because my university toga has a logo on the left breast part), he also changed his picture to him posing at a public place in my university, where literally everyone could go without a problem since it was a Catholic church, and you can go there anytime as long as its daylight to pray or reflect.
Sorry this got so long lol I really needed a space to share my petty revenge.
Update: Lol the dude was apparently stalking my Facebook account and stumbled across a My Day post. I posted about how I contacted the departments and they said they all didn't know him and he's now blowing up my messages with hate messages telling me they probably aren't said departments. Anyway, lots of people who know him also saw my post and asked who it's about. Told them it's him and apparently he's mad that I exposed him online lol.
Update 2: Found out that the dude completely plagiarized a paper! And the paper was originally written by a friend of mine. Welp looks like he just dug his own grave. I'll wait this one out and see where this goes.
submitted by swedishfiskmafia to pettyrevenge [link] [comments]
Anyway, he made the mistake of giving out his "ID number" and "degree" at School A (where a close friend of mine graduated), and his "program" that he was currently taking in School B (where I graduated, and is close with the program secretary) when we were having a row. A quick google search also connected me to his linkedin, where he has indeed listed both schools down, but it is very inconsistent with the entry/graduation dates he gave me.
I let it slide for a day after the argument simmered down, but this morning, I noticed he took a very obvious jab at me at the same Facebook group we bickered at. It was written in our language, but it roughly translated to "there's this one person here (in the comment section) that allegedly graduated from a prestigious university, but her personality is trash." As a naturally petty person, I obviously did not let it slide.
- First course of action: I messaged the department in School B he was supposedly taking his Master's Degree in, reporting him by giving them what happened, the screenshots of just how rude, crass, and disrespectful he is. I also gave them his full name (which I sleuthed on my own), the year he supposedly entered the school, and the program he was taking.
The answer from the Dean himself? "I don’t know him and he had never been my student." Satisfaction ✔️
I'm biding for the right time to show these messages from the two departments for when he acts up again so he could finally shut up, but damn the satisfaction was real. Furthermore, when I changed my picture to a picture of me in my toga (which is very distinct, because my university toga has a logo on the left breast part), he also changed his picture to him posing at a public place in my university, where literally everyone could go without a problem since it was a Catholic church, and you can go there anytime as long as its daylight to pray or reflect.
Sorry this got so long lol I really needed a space to share my petty revenge.
Update: Lol the dude was apparently stalking my Facebook account and stumbled across a My Day post. I posted about how I contacted the departments and they said they all didn't know him and he's now blowing up my messages with hate messages telling me they probably aren't said departments. Anyway, lots of people who know him also saw my post and asked who it's about. Told them it's him and apparently he's mad that I exposed him online lol.
Update 2: Found out that the dude completely plagiarized a paper! And the paper was originally written by a friend of mine. Welp looks like he just dug his own grave. I'll wait this one out and see where this goes.
2023.06.02 09:46 ohforfuckssake9 My scary dream oddly synchronized with my childhood friend's abrupt passing
I've always had this odd series of recurring dreams about totally random things, where only the location would be truly "recurring" - my home city, but very clean, with very few people and with infinite locations. Like, you could enter a park or a cemetery and you could explore them endlessly unless you used the entrance as your way out. I've dreamt so many times there that I've had more than enough opportunities to venture into all directions of that world already. I know that in the South, there's an endless road to nowhere and grain fields surrounding it, in the East - an endless forest, in the North the city itself is endless, like a labyrinth
Anyway, to the point. Like four years ago, I've had yet another dream there and it would’ve been the last one, too. This time it focused on my grandma's place and her cozy apartment in an old tenement. My parents used to leave me and my sister there with grandparents, if our big brother was at school or couldn't take care of us for any other reason
In my dream, I landed in my grandma's house in media res, with three of my childhood friends and my cousin. It made little to no sense, because my cousin never knew my friends and neither him, nor my friends, ever been at my grandma's house
An important thing to note about that apartment - across the street, roughly on the same level as grandma's apartment, there have always been this one odd flat with fully blackened windows. It was always there - in the meaning that it wasn't a thing specific for this particular dream; I was aware and wary of its existence before, but before it used to be like a side character and no dream centered around it
I can't really tell much about this flat other than the fact that even thinking about it in a dream brought fear and the need to escape, to me and all the "characters." Btw. the real life view on these windows from my grandparent’s flat is totally normal - some couple lives there that my grandma never even spoke to
In this dream, me and my friends + cousin had only one objective - to enter this dark flat. No other reasoning was given
It turned out to not be as easy as one could think, because after entering the tenement it turned out to be infinite as well, so we were getting lost and frustrated a lot
Not much was happening from there, really. Only when we finally found the door, we felt an immediate fear. We pried the doors open and entered. From the inside, the flat was empty but normal. The windows were not blackened anymore, you could also see grandma's apartment on the other side normally. There was no one or nothing inside that would indicate anything scary or malicious.
We left and on the street, out of nowhere, there was like a lot of police cars and some random people staring. But most importantly - a mother of one of the friends who was screaming that her son is still there, begging the police to search for him and cursing us for getting him lost
And that's pretty much it, that's when I woke up, not even sweaty or in panic but just mentally tired and anxious. And I quickly forgot about that dream
But like two weeks later, a friend of mine called and had some tragic news to share - our mutual friend, the one who got lost in a dream, has passed away. On the way to work he stopped his car on the side of the road and suffered a heart failure
I immediately remembered the dream I've had and I'm like 80% sure it happened on the same day. My friend died on Monday morning and I woke up from the dream also around 8 am. My only doubt comes from the fact that at the time, I've been in college and I've had free Mondays, so theoretically I could get it mixed up with Sunday
I rarely share this story, because my childhood friends really didn't like hearing about it but yeah. To this day I'm bothered by the thought that this dream and us entering that dark flat somehow resulted in his death. The potential timing seems just too tight. And somehow, in the way his mother blamed it on us in a dream, sticked with me and I can’t really consider this dream as a form of "warning" or "omen".
I guess it's also worth to note that since that dream occurred, I never had another one from that "world" again
submitted by ohforfuckssake9 to Thetruthishere [link] [comments]
Anyway, to the point. Like four years ago, I've had yet another dream there and it would’ve been the last one, too. This time it focused on my grandma's place and her cozy apartment in an old tenement. My parents used to leave me and my sister there with grandparents, if our big brother was at school or couldn't take care of us for any other reason
In my dream, I landed in my grandma's house in media res, with three of my childhood friends and my cousin. It made little to no sense, because my cousin never knew my friends and neither him, nor my friends, ever been at my grandma's house
An important thing to note about that apartment - across the street, roughly on the same level as grandma's apartment, there have always been this one odd flat with fully blackened windows. It was always there - in the meaning that it wasn't a thing specific for this particular dream; I was aware and wary of its existence before, but before it used to be like a side character and no dream centered around it
I can't really tell much about this flat other than the fact that even thinking about it in a dream brought fear and the need to escape, to me and all the "characters." Btw. the real life view on these windows from my grandparent’s flat is totally normal - some couple lives there that my grandma never even spoke to
In this dream, me and my friends + cousin had only one objective - to enter this dark flat. No other reasoning was given
It turned out to not be as easy as one could think, because after entering the tenement it turned out to be infinite as well, so we were getting lost and frustrated a lot
Not much was happening from there, really. Only when we finally found the door, we felt an immediate fear. We pried the doors open and entered. From the inside, the flat was empty but normal. The windows were not blackened anymore, you could also see grandma's apartment on the other side normally. There was no one or nothing inside that would indicate anything scary or malicious.
We left and on the street, out of nowhere, there was like a lot of police cars and some random people staring. But most importantly - a mother of one of the friends who was screaming that her son is still there, begging the police to search for him and cursing us for getting him lost
And that's pretty much it, that's when I woke up, not even sweaty or in panic but just mentally tired and anxious. And I quickly forgot about that dream
But like two weeks later, a friend of mine called and had some tragic news to share - our mutual friend, the one who got lost in a dream, has passed away. On the way to work he stopped his car on the side of the road and suffered a heart failure
I immediately remembered the dream I've had and I'm like 80% sure it happened on the same day. My friend died on Monday morning and I woke up from the dream also around 8 am. My only doubt comes from the fact that at the time, I've been in college and I've had free Mondays, so theoretically I could get it mixed up with Sunday
I rarely share this story, because my childhood friends really didn't like hearing about it but yeah. To this day I'm bothered by the thought that this dream and us entering that dark flat somehow resulted in his death. The potential timing seems just too tight. And somehow, in the way his mother blamed it on us in a dream, sticked with me and I can’t really consider this dream as a form of "warning" or "omen".
I guess it's also worth to note that since that dream occurred, I never had another one from that "world" again
2023.06.02 09:44 Haleighghielah Buried headstone?
 | There’s a photo request that’s 3 years old for a grave in my favorite small local cemetery. The cemetery is owned by an individual and there does not seem to be record for the older graves (this grave is from 1885). Idk why but this one has been bothering me for some time. submitted by Haleighghielah to findagrave [link] [comments] Her children and husband had pictures already uploaded in 2011. In the picture, the husbands stone had already fallen over but was still visible. When I went looking for the request, her children’s stones were still standing, but I couldn’t find her husband at first. I ended up finding a little bit of the base of his stone sticking out of grass. I was able to clear out some of the weeds that weren’t attached to dirt or anything, but it’s clear the stone is destroyed underneath. I noticed the grass looked a little different next to the child’s grave and just stuck my finger into the dirt to see if it hit anything and sure enough, there was a stone maybe an inch down. I pulled back a little bit of the grass (the hole in the picture is only about an inch and a half across) just to make sure it wasn’t just a rock, and it’s definitely a headstone. I covered it back up for now, but I’m curious what others have done in this situation? Would you just report a problem as the headstone is buried? I’m especially unsure considering I can’t be positive that it’s the woman being requested since there’s no plot number recorded and no way to read the stone. And I’m sure the answer is no, but is there any safe way to uncover headstones like this? I was looking around after I found this one and there are several more spots that I’m almost certain have other buried stones and this cemetery has several unfilled photo requests for this reason. |
2023.06.02 08:10 ANewbornSun Frynne I - Donning the Visage
"I... would like to start over, for what little time we have left. Hello, my lady. My name is Garin."
"And it only took you most of our lives for you to tell me. Yet... I prefer Akir better."
"...So do I."---
The Red Mountains, Dorne, 200 AC Ambience
The site of Garin's grave was quiet, and awash with the smell of flowers.
When she had led her people back home, those who had stayed behind had emerged with a great joy. Kin reunited with kin, friends held hands with friends, lovers embraced for the first time in moons. It was cleberation, yet, at the same time, it was not.
A mournful cheer had fallen upon her people. All who had sworn to the cause felt it, newcomers and old alike.
None felt it more than her.
For, there were no friends awaiting her upon her return. No familty to welcome her home. No lover to hold close.
All that was left to her was a simply grave, erected in a grassy grove.
There was no body beneath the plain, stone heading. From what she had been told, Garin's corpse's had been defiled and hidden away by the host that had made battle with them so many moons ago. Her people, those who had not descended down into Dorne proper, had searched for his corpse, but...
He could not even receive his burial rites.
She'd nearly wept, when the realization hit her. Instead, she had taken to sparring with Ser Gerold. Frynne had found it much easier to vent her frustrations on the world with her sword, rather than breaking down before the people she had claimed leadership of.
Though, with each passing day, her fighting abilities dwindled. Her child was seeing to that.
Frynne found that she did not mind, that much. What was her martial prowress, in the face of giving her child life?
There were very, very few things she would not give, to see this child grow healthily. And even fewer people she would not kill to keep her child safe.
Arthur Dayne, for one.
A blze of fury overtook her for a moment, at the thought of the boy. She had been a fool to trust the words of a Dayne, asking for peace. After what his father had done to them, both during the Last Crusade and the Battle on the Mount, it was clear where House Dayne's priorities lay, when it came to her people.
She had trusted that boy's word, and the boy had kept it. She had arrived unharmed, and had left unharmed.
But, she would not trust it again.
From where she knelt, before Akir's tomb, Frynne whispered a goodbye, then stood.
She mourned. She always would mourn. But, her people needed her. Her child needed her.
(And, if donning the mask her beloved had left behind was the price she had to pay, to keep all she had left to herself? If it meant she had to play the part of the Vessal? If all of Dorne marched against her?)
The woman took one more moment to look at the grave, then turned away. heart heavy, but face still.
(It was a sacrifice she was more than willing to make.)
2023.06.02 07:36 mach5music 30 days topster ,, i spend a lot of time listening to music n here is what i enjoy
 | submitted by mach5music to Topster [link] [comments] |
2023.06.02 07:05 Alarming-Mongoose-91 Came across this today and I think this counts. The story is depicted the the tv show “Mayday”.
 | submitted by Alarming-Mongoose-91 to airplanes [link] [comments] |
2023.06.02 06:14 LeutnantzurSeeFritz The Exploits of Irving Reese Part 30: All My Dream Fulfilled
(You can also find this story, along with the previous parts here and here.)
Five Years Later
Irving and Enterprise were busy. Irving smiled at Enterprise.
“Today’s the big day.”
Enterprise nodded as she looked up the stairs.
“Olin! Are you ready?”
Olin ran down the stairs, wearing a pair of blue jeans and an olive green t-shirt. He smiled at her.
“Yes, mama.”
Irving and Enterprise smiled. “Then let’s go.”
The family entered the car and drove to their destination. Enterprise looked at her son.
“Are you excited for your first day of school?”
Olin smiled and nodded. Irving looked at his son with a smile while they were at a red light.
“Are you going to behave yourself?”
Olin once again smiled and nodded.
They soon reached their destination. Azur Lane Elementary School.
Olin, Irving, and Enterprise all got out of the car. They walked to the entrance.
Irving saw Oklahoma and Malcolm were there, as well as Littorio, Vittorio Veneto, Fabio, and Marsala.
Littorio was holding her son's hand. She smiled at her daughter.
“Maria, are you going to say goodbye to your baby brother?”
Maria smiled as her brother giggled.
“Goodbye Vincenzo. I love you.”
Vincenzo giggled as his older sister turned to leave.
Irving and Enterprise kept walking, but they noticed Olin was not with them.
Irving and Enterprise walked back to where Olin was. Enterprise squatted down to look at her son.
“Olin, what's wrong?”
Olin’s eyes were wide as saucers as a tear went down his face. “I’m scared.”
Irving smiled and placed his hand on Olin’s shoulder.
“I know you’re scared. You want to know some advice?”
Olin nodded as he wiped away the tears with his arm.
“It’s alright to be scared. It’s how we stay alive. However, it’s what you do when you’re scared that defines you.”
Olin nodded. But he was still not budging.
Enterprise smiled as she stroked her son’s brown hair.
“Olin. I’ll tell you something that I learned. Beginnings are often scary, and endings are often sad, so enjoy the middle.”
Irving smiled. “Olin. If it makes you feel any better, your friend Louis is here as well.”
Hearing Louis's name made Olin’s eyes light up.
“They are?”
Irving smiled slightly.
“Yeah. You guys can hang out together here, learn, and even make new friends.”
Olin smiled and hugged his mother and father.
“I love you, Mommy and Daddy.”
Irving and Enterprise felt tears go down their faces. They held Olin in their arms.
“I love you too, my little tack.”
Olin giggled. He made his way to where Louis was. He noticed a dishwasher-blonde boy with hazel eyes.
“Hi. My name is Olin. What’s yours?”
The blonde boy smiled.
“My name is Lucio.”
Louis smiled.
“Hey, your name sounds like mine. I’m Louis.”
Lucio smiled. The three boys made their way inside the school.
Irving, Enterprise, Malcolm, and Oklahoma watch their children walk into the school. Malcolm smiled as he walked up to Irving.
“I told you they would be fine.”
Irving nodded as he wiped away a tear. Malcolm wrapped an arm around Irving’s shoulder. Irving smiled.
“Hey, I was thinking. You want to hang out at my place? I figured since the kids will be gone a few hours, I figured we can hang out together.”
Malcolm nodded. “Sure. Sounds like an amazing idea. You want to come also, honey?”
Oklahoma nodded. “Sure. I could use the company. I'll also call New Jersey and Samuel to see if they want to come as well.”
Irving and Enterprise nodded as they went back to their car and drove away from the school.
Enterprise noticed Irving was not taking them to the house.
“Irving, where are we going?”
Irving sighed.
“To visit an old friend. I know you were wondering why there were flowers in the trunk.”
Enterprise nodded.
Soon, the couple reached a cemetery. Irving grabbed the flowers as they walked through the graves.
Irving stopped at a dark granite gravestone. He read it with a somber look on his face.
“Robert Sharp. 1918-1944”
Irving placed his hand on the gravestone.
“Hey, Robert. It’s me, Irving. I’m here to say hello again like I do every year.”
Irving turned his head as Enterprise stared at him. She smiled slightly as Irving looked at the gravestone.
“I’ve been great. I have a wife and a beautiful son. Even gave him your surname as his middle name in honor of you.”
Irving reached for the red roses and a pack of Lucky Strikes and placed them on the tombstone.
“These are for you, Robert.”
Irving felt a tear go down his face. He wiped it away.
“Well, I suppose this is goodbye. I miss you.”
Irving saluted the tombstone and walked back to Enterprise.
They got back into the car. Enterprise and Irving were silent.
Enterprise looked at her husband with a blank expression on her face. “I never knew you visited his grave every year.”
Irving smiled slightly.
“Robert was born in September, and I told him I would always try to visit him the month he was born. It’s a promise I made him on D-Day.”
Enterprise nodded and smiled slightly. “I’m glad you still care about him and think about him. All these years later.”
Irving smiled as he looked at Enterprise.
“Hey, how about we go to the park? It should not be too busy.”
Enterprise nodded, and the couple drove to the park.
The park was quiet. The couple found a bench, and they sat on it and relaxed.
The green leaves on the trees were changing color. Irving smiled.
“The trees look so beautiful.”
After a while, the couple got off the bench and walked to a fountain. Enterprise had a gold coin ready.
“Want to make a wish?”
Irving nodded. Enterprise flipped the coin into the water.
After a moment of quiet calm, Enterprise smiled at her husband. She held his hand.
“So what was your wish?”
Irving giggled. “I thought it was bad luck to tell another person what you wished for, as doesn’t it mean it will not come true?”
“C’mon, you can tell me.”
“Alright. I wished that I could spend more time with you and the children. The Commander has been having me run around like a maniac to do things around the base. I mean, it’s honestly better than the odd jobs I had back in the day. However, they vary so much in terms of importance and energy. One moment I’m making sure that all the meowfficers are in the cattery, the next I’m helping the Commander make his coffee.”
Enterprise giggled. “So you act like another one of the Commander’s secretaries?”
Irving blushed as he scratched his head. “I guess I am, in a way. I don’t mind it, however.”
Enterprise nodded. “I know I’ve been busy, doing missions for the Commander as well. Once I finished breastfeeding Olin, Vestal cleared me for combat duty. Vestal knows we are planning on not having any more children after Olin and Little Enterprise. My missions have mostly been training Little Enterprise. And helping Bismarck, Tirpitz, and Littorio train Maria, Marlene, and Helga. Those three can use riggings like their mother, but they still need a ton of practice.”
Irving laughed. “I heard Olin and the other boys tried to use their riggings.”
Enterprise giggled. “Yeah. The only issue is that they cannot use them for long. Poor Olin. I swear, after he used his rigging longer than ten minutes, he was gasping for air like he had run a marathon. I believe they would be more useful as coastal defense and recon.”
Irving nodded. “I’m sure the Commander will find a use for Olin and the other boys in the future.”
Irving looked at the trees. The birds chirped as h closed his eyes.
“I suppose we should head home. We don’t want to keep Malcolm and Oklahoma waiting.”
Enterprise nodded, and they made their way back to the car.
Soon, the couple reached home. Samuel and New Jersey were already there. Irving smiled.
“Hey you two!”
New Jersey smiled as she rubbed her belly. She was eight months pregnant with her and Samuel’s daughter, Nicole. She smiled as she waddled to the porch.
“We’ll be inside if you need us for anything.”
Soon, Malcolm and Oklahoma joined the group. The men played poker on the porch while the shipgirls sat in the living room together.
Malcolm sighed. “Hard to believe it has been five years already.”
Samuel nodded. “Yeah. Time goes by you fast, doesn’t it?”
Irving giggled. “Hard to believe you and New Jersey are going to have a daughter soon.”
Samuel smiled. “Yeah. What about you Irving? You thinking of having more kids?”
Irving smiled. “We already have our hands full with both Olin and Little Enterprise. I don’t want to push my luck.”
Malcolm nodded. “Same here. I’m perfectly fine with just Louis.
The men went quiet. Irving pulled out a small cooler full of cherry sodas. He passed them out.
“So, how have the others been?”
Samuel giggled. “Larry’s been well. I heard he and his marines are now Nagato’s bodyguards.”
Malcolm smiled. “I heard that Arizona and Warren are thinking about getting married soon.”
Irving smiled. “How about Littorio and Fabio?”
“They’ve been busy ever since Vincenzo was born two years ago. I heard Fabio gave him the middle name Alonzo, after a man who saved his life back in Africa. Maria has been well, from what Fabio has told me. She has been an amazing older sister to Vincenzo.”
Malcolm smiled. “How about the Sakura Empire?”
“They’ve been good as well. I heard Zuikaku found someone named Arata Kondo, and she has a daughter named Hana, and Atago and Haruto got married.”
“Anything on the Northern Parliament?”
“From what I know, Mihail Larinov married Kirov. They have a daughter named Anya, and a son named Aleksei. I also know Nikolay Simornov and Gangut are also married, and they have two daughters named Nadia and Vera. They also have a son named Dmitri.”
Irving smiled. “How have you guys been?”
“New Jersey and I have been good. She's excited about having a daughter, as thought we would never have a daughter. We dropped off Merle before you guys as we didn't know when the school opened.”
Irving smiled and nodded. “So you are having an October baby like I am?”
Samuel nodded. “Yep. It looks like October is a popular month for children to be born.”
“What about you Mal? How are you, Lou and Okie?”
Malcolm smiled. “Good. We dropped off Louis at school with you guys, and now we are just hanging out.”
After a while, the small party died down. Samuel and Malcolm left with New Jersey and Oklahoma.
Irving and Enterprise were once again alone. Irving noticed a sweet smell coming from the kitchen.
Irving entered the kitchen to see his wife taking some chocolate chip cookies out of the oven. He smiled.
“Those smell great, honey.”
Enterprise smiled. “Thanks.”
She embraced Irving and kissed him on the lips.
Irving giggled. “Mind me asking, but where’s Little Enterprise? I didn’t see her get dropped off at school.”
Enterprise smiled. “Oh, she’s with Yorktown II and Hornet II. She’s training to become a KANSEN like me.”
Irving smiled. “It’s a good thing both of our children are getting an education.”
He smiled.
“You want to dance?”
Enterprise nodded, and Irving grabbed an old 78 record. He placed it on the turntable.
The notes of “It’s Been a Long Long Time.” filled the room. Enterprise and Irving were in an embrace as they slowly danced in each other’s arms.
Enterprise leaned into his ear. “I love this song.”
Irving smiled. “Why else would I propose to you with it, and it was the first song we danced to at our wedding?”
Enterprise smiled back as they continued to slow dance to the music.
After a while, Enterprise and Irving were sitting on the couch. Irving placed his arm on Enterprise’s shoulder.
“Hey, you want to hang out on the porch together? We haven’t done that in forever.”
Enterprise nodded as they both got off the couch. They walked to the back porch in the backyard. They sat on the hanging seat together.
Enterprise blushed. “Irving, I have something to tell you.”
Irving smirked and giggled. “You’re pregnant again?”
Enterprise blushed and giggled. “No.”
Irving smiled. “Then what is it?”
Enterprise sighed. “I know.”
Irving’s eyes went wide as she pulled out the photo of her and Irving on the beach together. Irving laid back, as Enterprise placed her head on his chest.
“Vestal asked me if I wanted to read what was on the back of this photo. I told her yes. I knew about the wishes before we even got married.”
Enterprise smiled as she rubbed her husband's face.
“You know. I say we did a good job.”
Irving smiled as he nodded softly. He stroked Enterprise’s hair as she fell asleep on his chest.
He stopped to enjoy this moment between them. A moment that, sometimes, he thought would never come.
He smiled. He had done everything he wished for.
And he was complete.
(And with that, that's the end of The Exploits of Irving Reese.)
(I have already made a list of people I wanted to thank for giving me both the courage and inspiration, either directly or indirectly, to write this story. You can find that list on the AO3 version if you want to read it.)
(Thank you for reading The Exploits of Irving Reese. I want to thank every reader who came from AO3, Reddit, or even my old Fanfiction.net account. You guys gave me the courage to keep writing fanfiction, and I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart.)
(Here on reddit, I want to give a special thank you to u/TitanSlayrOG, u/ArchiveSlave, and u/Nuke87654, for giving me the inspiration to write in the first place. None of this would have been possible without you fellas, and I want to thank you, from the bottom of my heart.)
(I hope you fellas have a wonderful day.)
Yours ~ LeutnantzurSeeFritz Salami Python
submitted by LeutnantzurSeeFritz to AzureLane [link] [comments]
Five Years Later
Irving and Enterprise were busy. Irving smiled at Enterprise.
“Today’s the big day.”
Enterprise nodded as she looked up the stairs.
“Olin! Are you ready?”
Olin ran down the stairs, wearing a pair of blue jeans and an olive green t-shirt. He smiled at her.
“Yes, mama.”
Irving and Enterprise smiled. “Then let’s go.”
The family entered the car and drove to their destination. Enterprise looked at her son.
“Are you excited for your first day of school?”
Olin smiled and nodded. Irving looked at his son with a smile while they were at a red light.
“Are you going to behave yourself?”
Olin once again smiled and nodded.
They soon reached their destination. Azur Lane Elementary School.
Olin, Irving, and Enterprise all got out of the car. They walked to the entrance.
Irving saw Oklahoma and Malcolm were there, as well as Littorio, Vittorio Veneto, Fabio, and Marsala.
Littorio was holding her son's hand. She smiled at her daughter.
“Maria, are you going to say goodbye to your baby brother?”
Maria smiled as her brother giggled.
“Goodbye Vincenzo. I love you.”
Vincenzo giggled as his older sister turned to leave.
Irving and Enterprise kept walking, but they noticed Olin was not with them.
Irving and Enterprise walked back to where Olin was. Enterprise squatted down to look at her son.
“Olin, what's wrong?”
Olin’s eyes were wide as saucers as a tear went down his face. “I’m scared.”
Irving smiled and placed his hand on Olin’s shoulder.
“I know you’re scared. You want to know some advice?”
Olin nodded as he wiped away the tears with his arm.
“It’s alright to be scared. It’s how we stay alive. However, it’s what you do when you’re scared that defines you.”
Olin nodded. But he was still not budging.
Enterprise smiled as she stroked her son’s brown hair.
“Olin. I’ll tell you something that I learned. Beginnings are often scary, and endings are often sad, so enjoy the middle.”
Irving smiled. “Olin. If it makes you feel any better, your friend Louis is here as well.”
Hearing Louis's name made Olin’s eyes light up.
“They are?”
Irving smiled slightly.
“Yeah. You guys can hang out together here, learn, and even make new friends.”
Olin smiled and hugged his mother and father.
“I love you, Mommy and Daddy.”
Irving and Enterprise felt tears go down their faces. They held Olin in their arms.
“I love you too, my little tack.”
Olin giggled. He made his way to where Louis was. He noticed a dishwasher-blonde boy with hazel eyes.
“Hi. My name is Olin. What’s yours?”
The blonde boy smiled.
“My name is Lucio.”
Louis smiled.
“Hey, your name sounds like mine. I’m Louis.”
Lucio smiled. The three boys made their way inside the school.
Irving, Enterprise, Malcolm, and Oklahoma watch their children walk into the school. Malcolm smiled as he walked up to Irving.
“I told you they would be fine.”
Irving nodded as he wiped away a tear. Malcolm wrapped an arm around Irving’s shoulder. Irving smiled.
“Hey, I was thinking. You want to hang out at my place? I figured since the kids will be gone a few hours, I figured we can hang out together.”
Malcolm nodded. “Sure. Sounds like an amazing idea. You want to come also, honey?”
Oklahoma nodded. “Sure. I could use the company. I'll also call New Jersey and Samuel to see if they want to come as well.”
Irving and Enterprise nodded as they went back to their car and drove away from the school.
Enterprise noticed Irving was not taking them to the house.
“Irving, where are we going?”
Irving sighed.
“To visit an old friend. I know you were wondering why there were flowers in the trunk.”
Enterprise nodded.
Soon, the couple reached a cemetery. Irving grabbed the flowers as they walked through the graves.
Irving stopped at a dark granite gravestone. He read it with a somber look on his face.
“Robert Sharp. 1918-1944”
Irving placed his hand on the gravestone.
“Hey, Robert. It’s me, Irving. I’m here to say hello again like I do every year.”
Irving turned his head as Enterprise stared at him. She smiled slightly as Irving looked at the gravestone.
“I’ve been great. I have a wife and a beautiful son. Even gave him your surname as his middle name in honor of you.”
Irving reached for the red roses and a pack of Lucky Strikes and placed them on the tombstone.
“These are for you, Robert.”
Irving felt a tear go down his face. He wiped it away.
“Well, I suppose this is goodbye. I miss you.”
Irving saluted the tombstone and walked back to Enterprise.
They got back into the car. Enterprise and Irving were silent.
Enterprise looked at her husband with a blank expression on her face. “I never knew you visited his grave every year.”
Irving smiled slightly.
“Robert was born in September, and I told him I would always try to visit him the month he was born. It’s a promise I made him on D-Day.”
Enterprise nodded and smiled slightly. “I’m glad you still care about him and think about him. All these years later.”
Irving smiled as he looked at Enterprise.
“Hey, how about we go to the park? It should not be too busy.”
Enterprise nodded, and the couple drove to the park.
The park was quiet. The couple found a bench, and they sat on it and relaxed.
The green leaves on the trees were changing color. Irving smiled.
“The trees look so beautiful.”
After a while, the couple got off the bench and walked to a fountain. Enterprise had a gold coin ready.
“Want to make a wish?”
Irving nodded. Enterprise flipped the coin into the water.
After a moment of quiet calm, Enterprise smiled at her husband. She held his hand.
“So what was your wish?”
Irving giggled. “I thought it was bad luck to tell another person what you wished for, as doesn’t it mean it will not come true?”
“C’mon, you can tell me.”
“Alright. I wished that I could spend more time with you and the children. The Commander has been having me run around like a maniac to do things around the base. I mean, it’s honestly better than the odd jobs I had back in the day. However, they vary so much in terms of importance and energy. One moment I’m making sure that all the meowfficers are in the cattery, the next I’m helping the Commander make his coffee.”
Enterprise giggled. “So you act like another one of the Commander’s secretaries?”
Irving blushed as he scratched his head. “I guess I am, in a way. I don’t mind it, however.”
Enterprise nodded. “I know I’ve been busy, doing missions for the Commander as well. Once I finished breastfeeding Olin, Vestal cleared me for combat duty. Vestal knows we are planning on not having any more children after Olin and Little Enterprise. My missions have mostly been training Little Enterprise. And helping Bismarck, Tirpitz, and Littorio train Maria, Marlene, and Helga. Those three can use riggings like their mother, but they still need a ton of practice.”
Irving laughed. “I heard Olin and the other boys tried to use their riggings.”
Enterprise giggled. “Yeah. The only issue is that they cannot use them for long. Poor Olin. I swear, after he used his rigging longer than ten minutes, he was gasping for air like he had run a marathon. I believe they would be more useful as coastal defense and recon.”
Irving nodded. “I’m sure the Commander will find a use for Olin and the other boys in the future.”
Irving looked at the trees. The birds chirped as h closed his eyes.
“I suppose we should head home. We don’t want to keep Malcolm and Oklahoma waiting.”
Enterprise nodded, and they made their way back to the car.
Soon, the couple reached home. Samuel and New Jersey were already there. Irving smiled.
“Hey you two!”
New Jersey smiled as she rubbed her belly. She was eight months pregnant with her and Samuel’s daughter, Nicole. She smiled as she waddled to the porch.
“We’ll be inside if you need us for anything.”
Soon, Malcolm and Oklahoma joined the group. The men played poker on the porch while the shipgirls sat in the living room together.
Malcolm sighed. “Hard to believe it has been five years already.”
Samuel nodded. “Yeah. Time goes by you fast, doesn’t it?”
Irving giggled. “Hard to believe you and New Jersey are going to have a daughter soon.”
Samuel smiled. “Yeah. What about you Irving? You thinking of having more kids?”
Irving smiled. “We already have our hands full with both Olin and Little Enterprise. I don’t want to push my luck.”
Malcolm nodded. “Same here. I’m perfectly fine with just Louis.
The men went quiet. Irving pulled out a small cooler full of cherry sodas. He passed them out.
“So, how have the others been?”
Samuel giggled. “Larry’s been well. I heard he and his marines are now Nagato’s bodyguards.”
Malcolm smiled. “I heard that Arizona and Warren are thinking about getting married soon.”
Irving smiled. “How about Littorio and Fabio?”
“They’ve been busy ever since Vincenzo was born two years ago. I heard Fabio gave him the middle name Alonzo, after a man who saved his life back in Africa. Maria has been well, from what Fabio has told me. She has been an amazing older sister to Vincenzo.”
Malcolm smiled. “How about the Sakura Empire?”
“They’ve been good as well. I heard Zuikaku found someone named Arata Kondo, and she has a daughter named Hana, and Atago and Haruto got married.”
“Anything on the Northern Parliament?”
“From what I know, Mihail Larinov married Kirov. They have a daughter named Anya, and a son named Aleksei. I also know Nikolay Simornov and Gangut are also married, and they have two daughters named Nadia and Vera. They also have a son named Dmitri.”
Irving smiled. “How have you guys been?”
“New Jersey and I have been good. She's excited about having a daughter, as thought we would never have a daughter. We dropped off Merle before you guys as we didn't know when the school opened.”
Irving smiled and nodded. “So you are having an October baby like I am?”
Samuel nodded. “Yep. It looks like October is a popular month for children to be born.”
“What about you Mal? How are you, Lou and Okie?”
Malcolm smiled. “Good. We dropped off Louis at school with you guys, and now we are just hanging out.”
After a while, the small party died down. Samuel and Malcolm left with New Jersey and Oklahoma.
Irving and Enterprise were once again alone. Irving noticed a sweet smell coming from the kitchen.
Irving entered the kitchen to see his wife taking some chocolate chip cookies out of the oven. He smiled.
“Those smell great, honey.”
Enterprise smiled. “Thanks.”
She embraced Irving and kissed him on the lips.
Irving giggled. “Mind me asking, but where’s Little Enterprise? I didn’t see her get dropped off at school.”
Enterprise smiled. “Oh, she’s with Yorktown II and Hornet II. She’s training to become a KANSEN like me.”
Irving smiled. “It’s a good thing both of our children are getting an education.”
He smiled.
“You want to dance?”
Enterprise nodded, and Irving grabbed an old 78 record. He placed it on the turntable.
The notes of “It’s Been a Long Long Time.” filled the room. Enterprise and Irving were in an embrace as they slowly danced in each other’s arms.
Enterprise leaned into his ear. “I love this song.”
Irving smiled. “Why else would I propose to you with it, and it was the first song we danced to at our wedding?”
Enterprise smiled back as they continued to slow dance to the music.
After a while, Enterprise and Irving were sitting on the couch. Irving placed his arm on Enterprise’s shoulder.
“Hey, you want to hang out on the porch together? We haven’t done that in forever.”
Enterprise nodded as they both got off the couch. They walked to the back porch in the backyard. They sat on the hanging seat together.
Enterprise blushed. “Irving, I have something to tell you.”
Irving smirked and giggled. “You’re pregnant again?”
Enterprise blushed and giggled. “No.”
Irving smiled. “Then what is it?”
Enterprise sighed. “I know.”
Irving’s eyes went wide as she pulled out the photo of her and Irving on the beach together. Irving laid back, as Enterprise placed her head on his chest.
“Vestal asked me if I wanted to read what was on the back of this photo. I told her yes. I knew about the wishes before we even got married.”
Enterprise smiled as she rubbed her husband's face.
“You know. I say we did a good job.”
Irving smiled as he nodded softly. He stroked Enterprise’s hair as she fell asleep on his chest.
He stopped to enjoy this moment between them. A moment that, sometimes, he thought would never come.
He smiled. He had done everything he wished for.
And he was complete.
(And with that, that's the end of The Exploits of Irving Reese.)
(I have already made a list of people I wanted to thank for giving me both the courage and inspiration, either directly or indirectly, to write this story. You can find that list on the AO3 version if you want to read it.)
(Thank you for reading The Exploits of Irving Reese. I want to thank every reader who came from AO3, Reddit, or even my old Fanfiction.net account. You guys gave me the courage to keep writing fanfiction, and I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart.)
(Here on reddit, I want to give a special thank you to u/TitanSlayrOG, u/ArchiveSlave, and u/Nuke87654, for giving me the inspiration to write in the first place. None of this would have been possible without you fellas, and I want to thank you, from the bottom of my heart.)
(I hope you fellas have a wonderful day.)
Yours ~ LeutnantzurSeeFritz Salami Python
2023.06.02 05:57 NicklePlatedSkull Does anyone know know this show?
I've been searching for a show that I saw in early 80s, but it was possibly made in the late 60s, early 70s. It's about a man who died and left his possessions to family. On the night of reading his will, everyone came. His casket was in the living room and his will was recorded on audio cassette that played from his casket. Each person he left something to, that object killed them. The one I remember was a suit that shrank on the guy and suffocated him. I think it possibly might have been an anthology. I think I remember a grave digger telling the stories. This being one of them. Any of this sounds familiar to anyone?
submitted by NicklePlatedSkull to DoesAnyoneKnow [link] [comments]
2023.06.02 04:50 funeralclient McReynolds Nave and Larson Funeral Home
Welcome to McReynold’s-Nave & Larson Funeral Home
For more than 100 years, McReynolds-Nave & Larson Funeral Home in Clarksville, TN has been serving the families of greater Montgomery and Houston county. We are one of the many funeral homes in Clarksville, TN who understand the importance of offering quality services. From start to finish, your family can trust that our caring and knowledgeable staff will be here to assist you every step of the way. We offer affordably priced funeral, cremation, and memorial services that are designed to meet your family’s needs and budget.With two locations to serve you, our funeral homes in Clarksville, TN and Erin, TN can help you honor your loved one and say goodbye. Each year we help hundreds of families in the area say meaningful goodbyes to their departed loved ones.
Our staff is comprised of some the most experienced, knowledgeable, and caring funeral professionals in the industry. We understand that the loss of a loved one is a difficult time for a family. Our compassionate team will work hard to help you arrange a service that not only celebrates the legacy of your loved one but also provides your family with the closure and goodbye you need. From the first call to long after the service has ended, our team will be here to provide you with the resources and guidance you need.
We pledge to honor your loved one with dignity, respect, and personal attention to every detail. With two beautiful facilities, 24/7 service, and caring and knowledgeable staff; we are confident your family will have peace of mind in knowing that our family will be here for you when you need us.
To learn more about our funeral homes in Clarksville, TN and Erin, TN, please browse our site. Throughout it you will find helpful resources and information to help you cope with loss and say goodbye. If you have any questions about our services or how we can assist you, please do not hesitate to contact us. We can be reached by phone or email at any time.
What Makes Us Unique
We are proud to embrace traditional values, diversity and innovation in honoring the spirit and life of each person we serve. We offer a full selection of:- Funeral and memorial services, ranging from traditional to uniquely innovative and personal
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Our Complete Funeral Service Package
In most cases, a family will choose to hold a complete funeral service to honor their loved one. This is commonly referred to as a traditional funeral service and includes a visitation, funeral service, committal, and reception.For this funeral arrangement, guests will have the opportunity to host a visitation the evening prior to the service and up to the hour of service on the day of the funeral. After the visitation, a funeral service will be held at either the funeral home or a church the deceased held membership with. Immediately following the conclusion of the funeral service, the remains will be transported to a local cemetery for burial. Following the funeral service, guests are encouraged to stay for a reception where they can offer condolences and share memories of the deceased over refreshments and snacks.
Our affordable funeral service pricing for this package includes everything mentioned above. Please keep in mind that your family will be responsible for additional expenses like the casket, grave liner and monument. If you have any questions about our funeral service pricing or payment options, a member of our staff would be happy to assist you.
Our caring and professional staff would be happy to meet with you and discuss the different packages we have available. From there, we will work with you to personalize the funeral arrangements and pay tribute to the deceased with dignity and respect.
Our funeral service professionals can tailor services to suit any specific desires or needs of the families we serve. For further information or specific pricing, please consult with one of our funeral directors by visiting us or by calling us.
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Why Choose Burial?
One of the most common questions we get asked is “why choose burial over cremation?”. If you are undecided we have provided a list of benefits of choosing burial to help simplify your decision. There is a wide variety of reasons why someone would choose burial, however the reasons listed below are what we have found to be the most common.Click Here to Learn More > > >
Affordable Cremation
Part of making funeral arrangements on behalf of a loved one involves choosing between burial of the body, or cremation. Certainly this is a big decision, based on any number of factors: religious or spiritual beliefs, finances, or ecological awareness are just some of the reasons we’ve heard for choosing cremation. Before you can make the choice, you need to know exactly what it is you’re considering. If you’re wondering “what is cremation?”, you can learn the basics below. If the content here raises additional questions for you, please give us a call. One of our cremation specialists will address any of your inquiries or concerns.Click Here to Learn More > > >
Celebration of Life Services
More and more families are choosing to hold ceremonies that celebrate the life and personality of their loved one. A celebration of life ceremony acts as an alternative to a traditional funeral ceremony. It achieves the same purposes as a traditional funeral by gathering family and friends to pay tribute to the deceased. A celebration of life has a more uplifting atmosphere that reflects on positive stories and memories that involved your loved one. The major benefit of a celebration of life is that it allows you the freedom to best display your loved one’s personality, values, and passions, in whichever way you see fit.The best way to start planning a celebration of life is to begin doing so while your loved one is still with you. This way you have the chance to ask them, “how do you want to be remembered?”, “what are you most passionate about?”, and “what would you like your celebration of life to include?”. This way you are not left guessing what your loved one would’ve wanted when it comes time to plan the celebration of life service.Contact Our Funeral Home in Clarksville, Tennessee
McReynolds-Nave & Larson Funeral Home
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Nave Funeral Home
Address: 4639 West Main St. Erin, TN 37061 Phone: 931-289-4277
Fax: 931-647-3313
Email: [email protected]
Website: https://www.navefuneralhomes.com/
2023.06.02 03:36 Friendly_Ad1918 Where was this Scene from the Day of the Jackal (1973) filmed?
Can anyone identify the location of the cemetery and grave shown in final scene from The Day Of The Jackal [1973] (at the 2:39 mark).
Many thanks!
Bob
https://reddit.com/link/13xzlfu/video/3dintkaxdi3b1/player
submitted by Friendly_Ad1918 to wherewasthistaken [link] [comments]
Many thanks!
Bob
https://reddit.com/link/13xzlfu/video/3dintkaxdi3b1/player
2023.06.02 02:53 Miss_Wither [F4A] Fandom and Discord Only! Plots and Ideas Included!
CreativelyInsane’s Roleplay Post Fandom and Discord Only
About Me:
Hullo Hullo! My name is Creatively Insane. Creative for short. I am 21 yrs old and Nonbinary(They/Them). I love roleplaying, writing, art and music. I draw almost all my Oc art and love to share pieces I have done. I also love sharing memes as well and engaging in OOC chatter. I can write one to multiple paragraphs and range from literate to adv. Literate.
Please be aware that I cannot be online all the time. I get rather busy or there are days where I am not motivated enough to write. My availability can vary. I can rapid fire or respond every couple days. If you are not patient, I am not the partner for you. I am also understanding if you want to end a roleplay or if you want to do something different, just let me know.
Rules and Preferences:
🩷 You must be 18 or older to interact with me. I refuse to talk and roleplay with any minors. Characters must be over 18 as well.
🩷 Don’t be afraid to introduce yourself! I love seeing detailed introduction messages.
🩷 I prefer using an Oc only in Canon x OC.
🩷 You can pick the canon character you would like to be. The ones I have listed are just a suggestion of who I like.
🩷 OC x OC is limited on spots. Please be prepared in case all the spots are full.
🩷 I am no longer doing Doubling. I don’t like the idea of a transactional(‘I am only writing this because I want you to write something in return.”) roleplay.
🩷 No one liners.I would like it if you wrote at least the same length as I do. Though I do also run with quality over quantity as well.
🩷 Third person only and no asterisks for actions.
🩷 Please be ready with a writing sample in case I ask you for one.
🩷 Don’t be afraid to implement your own ideas and plots!
🩷 Romance is greatly preferred for all my roleplays.
🩷 NSFW and Sexual Content is Welcome!
🩷 I will not do harems. I don’t want to play multiple females for one boring self insert OC.
🩷 Most importantly, have fun! Writing is a hobby that everyone should not stress about and just enjoy!
NSFW Rules and Preferences
🩵 I am a switch and portray most of my OCs as well. I will not roleplay with just Submissive/bottom characters. I will not play as a femdom, either.
Ask me about my kinks and limits.
The main No’s: Incest, SA, Feet, armpits, toilet play, unrealistic proportions and genitalia, belly inflation, vore
Sexual Content is optional.I honestly prefer more stories than NSFW. Too much NSFW gets really boring to me.
Fandoms, Plots and Pairings
BNHA
Pairing Preference: OC x Canon and Oc x OC
Gender Pairing Preference: Female x Male, Female x Female
Characters I am looking for: Eraserhead, Present Mic, Snipe, Midnight, Mina, Denki, Shinso and Shigaraki.
Characters I don’t want(Over picked characters): Deku, Endeavor, Dabi
Who I will Be: Jessalyn or Aya(OCs). I will gladly send their bios!
Plots and Ideas: Vigilante x Hero Vigilante x Villain Civilian x Hero Civilian x Villain
Creepypasta
Pairing Preferences: Oc x Canon
Gender Pairing Preference: Female x Male, Female x Female
Characters I am Looking for: Eyeless Jack, Masky, Hoodie, Jeff the Killer, Jane the Killer, Kate the Chaser, Laughing Jack
Who I will be: Julia(OC)
Plots and Ideas:
Along Came The Rabbit
Strange noises sounded from the house next door. Unusual for a place that was always so quiet since Julia had moved in. Curiosity dragged her to investigate, finding herself in the presence of a trio of masked men. They were looking for something. Someone that had nothing to do with her until a little noise would change that moment. If only she hasn't been awake...then maybe she wouldn't be dragged into a horrible fate. The trio had been on the hunt for a man who taped evidence of their existence. The Slenderman needed this man dead and the evidence erased before it could get out to anyone. It was simple really, aside from the long road trip Until someone had to make their mission harder. Looks like the foxes were on the prowl for the unfortunate rabbit.
Home Sweet Home
Things seemed to be going in the right direction for Julia. Her job was paying decently enough that she could finally consider getting her own home! After looking around the market for a while, she receives a mysterious email about a home in the woods. It came off as a simple house sitting for a place to live. The owners were apparently living in another country for the time being. With the keys sent, she gets to moving. And boy was she shocked to find that the place was way bigger than she could imagine. Getting settled took time. And as the days passed, weird happenings began. Doors opening and closing. The television glitching and radio getting feedback. So many unexplained weird things were happening. Julia came to the conclusion that the house was haunted. Till three masked men would walk right through the mirror in the hallway just as she was passing by.
Undertale With AUs
Pairing Preferences: OC x Canon
Gender Pairing Preferences: Female x Male
Characters I am looking for: Sans, Papyrus, Gaster, Mettaton, Grillby
Characters I don’t want: Chara, Frisk
Who I will be: Kina(OC)
Plots and Ideas:
The Story Goes On
Kina grew up on the stories of Monsters and Humans living together. Her grandfather told these stories like he was there.Come to find out, he was. After inheriting this house, she found an old box of pictures and items that showed that he was there. And friends with a monster of great significance. So, with this new information and proof that monsters still exist, she travels towards the famed Mt. Ebott to find and help these monsters.
FNAF Security Breach
Pairing Preference: Oc x Canon
Gender Preferences: Female x male, Female x Female
Characters I am looking for: Sun/Moon, Freddy, Chica, Roxanne, Monty
Characters I don’t want: Vanessa
Who I will be: Loraine(OC) Plots and Ideas:
I don’t have anything yet. Would love to brainstorm some ideas.
Pokemon
Pairing Preferences: OC x Canon, OC x OC
Gender Pairings: Female x Male, Female x Female
Characters I am Looking for: Raihan. Open to pokemon as long as they are humanoid/anthro ONLY! they must pass the Harkness Test (google it) No beastiality like eevee and the evolutions and anything else that walks on four legs and doesn’t have any human-like emotions and understanding.
Who I will be: Silva(OC)
Plots and Ideas:
Slashers
Pairing Preferences: OC x Canon
Gender Preferences: Female x Male
Characters I am looking for: Micheal Myers, Ghostface(Billy and Stu), Brahms Heelshire, Jason Vorhees
Who I will be: Starla(OC)
Plots and Ideas:
Apex legends
Pairing Preferences: OC x Canon
Gender Pairings: Femalex Male, Female x Female, Female x Nonbinary
Characters I am looking for: Bloodhound, Fuse, Mirage, Loba, Vantage, Bangalore, Catalyst, Horizon
Who I will be: Amaris or Valerie (OCs)
Plots and Ideas:
Extra Plots
To think the proxies of Slenderman were now lacking in their jobs. After years of serving, the being if legend takes on a new group of killers that seem far more experienced. This competition leads to heads butting and close deaths, having the mansion being split in two to allow both sides their moments of peace. But a day doesn't seem to go by without a fight almost starting. One day, someone crossed into their territory. A man who let his curiosity get the best of him. Fleeing from the scene with a wound in his side, he stops a woman in time who picks him up to help. With the pages and the thief now gone, the original proxies are once again running against the clock in search for the suspect while Slenderman sends in the new recruits to pick up the mess. Unfortunately for the woman that saved the thief, he leaves behind what he had taken, letting the need to survive become the main priority. Poor Julia is now stuck with the target on her back and she must go on the run to save herself from being killed. Who will get to her first? How will it end?
Savior of the Broken
(Helluva Boss. I think Chadwick Thurman works well in terms of this plot. But I'm fine with anyone. I play as the snow leopard demon)
In the Greed ring, you have to be careful not to mess around with any of the residents or you'll end up six feet under. Fishing work wasn't hard but the work wasn't the best either. Mostly since they were considered one way jobs. If you didn't get along well with the boss or cross them, you were dead as well. Second changes weren't always an option, unless you had the money to save your ass. And it just so happens that (YC) may have just been that lucky. After a misunderstanding leading to a close death, a snow leopard demon stepped in and offered a large sum of money to take (YC) in. Will (YC) be grateful or will the road to a good friendship be a rocky path?
Not on the list and willing to try:
Demon Slayer
Avatar 1&2
Chainsaw Man
Same rules apply for these. Prefer OC(me) x Canon(you)
Well that’s it from me! If you are interested in roleplaying, feel free to DM me and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.
submitted by Miss_Wither to RoleplayPartnerSearch [link] [comments]
About Me:
Hullo Hullo! My name is Creatively Insane. Creative for short. I am 21 yrs old and Nonbinary(They/Them). I love roleplaying, writing, art and music. I draw almost all my Oc art and love to share pieces I have done. I also love sharing memes as well and engaging in OOC chatter. I can write one to multiple paragraphs and range from literate to adv. Literate.
Please be aware that I cannot be online all the time. I get rather busy or there are days where I am not motivated enough to write. My availability can vary. I can rapid fire or respond every couple days. If you are not patient, I am not the partner for you. I am also understanding if you want to end a roleplay or if you want to do something different, just let me know.
Rules and Preferences:
🩷 You must be 18 or older to interact with me. I refuse to talk and roleplay with any minors. Characters must be over 18 as well.
🩷 Don’t be afraid to introduce yourself! I love seeing detailed introduction messages.
🩷 I prefer using an Oc only in Canon x OC.
🩷 You can pick the canon character you would like to be. The ones I have listed are just a suggestion of who I like.
🩷 OC x OC is limited on spots. Please be prepared in case all the spots are full.
🩷 I am no longer doing Doubling. I don’t like the idea of a transactional(‘I am only writing this because I want you to write something in return.”) roleplay.
🩷 No one liners.I would like it if you wrote at least the same length as I do. Though I do also run with quality over quantity as well.
🩷 Third person only and no asterisks for actions.
🩷 Please be ready with a writing sample in case I ask you for one.
🩷 Don’t be afraid to implement your own ideas and plots!
🩷 Romance is greatly preferred for all my roleplays.
🩷 NSFW and Sexual Content is Welcome!
🩷 I will not do harems. I don’t want to play multiple females for one boring self insert OC.
🩷 Most importantly, have fun! Writing is a hobby that everyone should not stress about and just enjoy!
NSFW Rules and Preferences
🩵 I am a switch and portray most of my OCs as well. I will not roleplay with just Submissive/bottom characters. I will not play as a femdom, either.
Ask me about my kinks and limits.
The main No’s: Incest, SA, Feet, armpits, toilet play, unrealistic proportions and genitalia, belly inflation, vore
Sexual Content is optional.I honestly prefer more stories than NSFW. Too much NSFW gets really boring to me.
Fandoms, Plots and Pairings
BNHA
Pairing Preference: OC x Canon and Oc x OC
Gender Pairing Preference: Female x Male, Female x Female
Characters I am looking for: Eraserhead, Present Mic, Snipe, Midnight, Mina, Denki, Shinso and Shigaraki.
Characters I don’t want(Over picked characters): Deku, Endeavor, Dabi
Who I will Be: Jessalyn or Aya(OCs). I will gladly send their bios!
Plots and Ideas: Vigilante x Hero Vigilante x Villain Civilian x Hero Civilian x Villain
Becoming A Hero, The Right WayRejected by hero schools and finding only flaws in becoming a hero, Jessalyn’s spite had grown. So much so that she had taken on the role of a mysterious vigilante to take justice into her own hands. She focused on minor and medium crimes. Stopping small stores and people from getting robbed, taking out the outsiders involved in crime and drug rings and more. Though her deeds did not go unnoticed. News caught on and people began talking about it. News articles appeared with talk of the mysterious vigilante. This caught the attention of the heroes. The new goal was to find this vigilante and bring her in. Though will they lock her up or give her the chance of becoming the very thing she learned to despise?
Creepypasta
Pairing Preferences: Oc x Canon
Gender Pairing Preference: Female x Male, Female x Female
Characters I am Looking for: Eyeless Jack, Masky, Hoodie, Jeff the Killer, Jane the Killer, Kate the Chaser, Laughing Jack
Who I will be: Julia(OC)
Plots and Ideas:
Along Came The Rabbit
Strange noises sounded from the house next door. Unusual for a place that was always so quiet since Julia had moved in. Curiosity dragged her to investigate, finding herself in the presence of a trio of masked men. They were looking for something. Someone that had nothing to do with her until a little noise would change that moment. If only she hasn't been awake...then maybe she wouldn't be dragged into a horrible fate. The trio had been on the hunt for a man who taped evidence of their existence. The Slenderman needed this man dead and the evidence erased before it could get out to anyone. It was simple really, aside from the long road trip Until someone had to make their mission harder. Looks like the foxes were on the prowl for the unfortunate rabbit.
Home Sweet Home
Things seemed to be going in the right direction for Julia. Her job was paying decently enough that she could finally consider getting her own home! After looking around the market for a while, she receives a mysterious email about a home in the woods. It came off as a simple house sitting for a place to live. The owners were apparently living in another country for the time being. With the keys sent, she gets to moving. And boy was she shocked to find that the place was way bigger than she could imagine. Getting settled took time. And as the days passed, weird happenings began. Doors opening and closing. The television glitching and radio getting feedback. So many unexplained weird things were happening. Julia came to the conclusion that the house was haunted. Till three masked men would walk right through the mirror in the hallway just as she was passing by.
Undertale With AUs
Pairing Preferences: OC x Canon
Gender Pairing Preferences: Female x Male
Characters I am looking for: Sans, Papyrus, Gaster, Mettaton, Grillby
Characters I don’t want: Chara, Frisk
Who I will be: Kina(OC)
Plots and Ideas:
Soon We may Cease to ExistAn experiment had gone wrong and now all the AUs are in grave danger. A Gaster had split into two. Neo Gaster was hell bent on destroying the AUs and erasing everything. Different characters band together to find a safe place to stay and to fight against this threat while others go on the search for the second Gaster, the one that separated from the neo Gaster and just may have a way to stop everything from existing. To Kina, Undertale was just a game. Until Sans appeared in her world with a grave message. Though something was wrong as she was dragged into this mess. Will They be able to save the AUs and put everything back in order? Or will they all soon cease to exist?
The Story Goes On
Kina grew up on the stories of Monsters and Humans living together. Her grandfather told these stories like he was there.Come to find out, he was. After inheriting this house, she found an old box of pictures and items that showed that he was there. And friends with a monster of great significance. So, with this new information and proof that monsters still exist, she travels towards the famed Mt. Ebott to find and help these monsters.
FNAF Security Breach
Pairing Preference: Oc x Canon
Gender Preferences: Female x male, Female x Female
Characters I am looking for: Sun/Moon, Freddy, Chica, Roxanne, Monty
Characters I don’t want: Vanessa
Who I will be: Loraine(OC) Plots and Ideas:
I don’t have anything yet. Would love to brainstorm some ideas.
Pokemon
Pairing Preferences: OC x Canon, OC x OC
Gender Pairings: Female x Male, Female x Female
Characters I am Looking for: Raihan. Open to pokemon as long as they are humanoid/anthro ONLY! they must pass the Harkness Test (google it) No beastiality like eevee and the evolutions and anything else that walks on four legs and doesn’t have any human-like emotions and understanding.
Who I will be: Silva(OC)
Plots and Ideas:
And So I Start AgainAt Age 10, Silva started her journey as a pokemon strainer, eager to battle and defeat the gym leaders. Though one sour battle with a stranger made her dreams dissipate. Years later at 22, realizing that she was going nowhere with her life, Silva decided to try again. With a more mature mindset, she wasn’t going to take anymore losses. Who will join her journey? And will she succeed in becoming the great trainer she always dreamed about?
Slashers
Pairing Preferences: OC x Canon
Gender Preferences: Female x Male
Characters I am looking for: Micheal Myers, Ghostface(Billy and Stu), Brahms Heelshire, Jason Vorhees
Who I will be: Starla(OC)
Plots and Ideas:
Wrong InvitationStarla and her husband Alex had come to the conclusion that a vacation was much needed. More so Alex as he had received an invitation to a new resort that was in an undisclosed area. What a great idea to go, apparently. Though this wasn't any typical resort. A remodeled version of the Overlook had been a refuge to the most notorious killers. A hotspot for dragging victims right into the grasps of these slashers. With no ability to look back, the couple must fight to survive while digging into their own demons.
Apex legends
Pairing Preferences: OC x Canon
Gender Pairings: Femalex Male, Female x Female, Female x Nonbinary
Characters I am looking for: Bloodhound, Fuse, Mirage, Loba, Vantage, Bangalore, Catalyst, Horizon
Who I will be: Amaris or Valerie (OCs)
Plots and Ideas:
Rise of a New LegendAmaris Rivera aka Faunus, is the new face of the Apex Games. Instead of being introduced to the other legends right off the bat, she was introduced as the games started. Some saw her as they died, while the final squad saw her as they killed her. Afterwards, with some tension, introductions were passed and things seemed to go as normal as for any new legend. The longer she stays, the more she realizes there is more behind these games than what she was told. Tensions between other legends and claims of a high power in the wrong. What was going on? Will Amaris uncover the mysteries of these legends, or drag herself under as well?
“I’m in the Future?!”Valerie Parkson simply had awoken to find herself not home. Instead, she finds herself in the hands of a scientist that is vague of where she is other than being in a concrete prison. A few years pass and she gets the opportunity of an escape and takes it to find that she isn’t on earth anymore. And not only that but, centuries into the future as well. Her aimless travels lands her into the hands of a legend of the Apex Games. They take her in and with the help of a few others, she’s included in the games while also trying to crack open the mystery of her missing memory and how she ended up years into the future.
Extra Plots
The Crossover from Hell(A mix of Slashers and Creepypasta)
To think the proxies of Slenderman were now lacking in their jobs. After years of serving, the being if legend takes on a new group of killers that seem far more experienced. This competition leads to heads butting and close deaths, having the mansion being split in two to allow both sides their moments of peace. But a day doesn't seem to go by without a fight almost starting. One day, someone crossed into their territory. A man who let his curiosity get the best of him. Fleeing from the scene with a wound in his side, he stops a woman in time who picks him up to help. With the pages and the thief now gone, the original proxies are once again running against the clock in search for the suspect while Slenderman sends in the new recruits to pick up the mess. Unfortunately for the woman that saved the thief, he leaves behind what he had taken, letting the need to survive become the main priority. Poor Julia is now stuck with the target on her back and she must go on the run to save herself from being killed. Who will get to her first? How will it end?
Savior of the Broken
(Helluva Boss. I think Chadwick Thurman works well in terms of this plot. But I'm fine with anyone. I play as the snow leopard demon)
In the Greed ring, you have to be careful not to mess around with any of the residents or you'll end up six feet under. Fishing work wasn't hard but the work wasn't the best either. Mostly since they were considered one way jobs. If you didn't get along well with the boss or cross them, you were dead as well. Second changes weren't always an option, unless you had the money to save your ass. And it just so happens that (YC) may have just been that lucky. After a misunderstanding leading to a close death, a snow leopard demon stepped in and offered a large sum of money to take (YC) in. Will (YC) be grateful or will the road to a good friendship be a rocky path?
Not on the list and willing to try:
Demon Slayer
Avatar 1&2
Chainsaw Man
Same rules apply for these. Prefer OC(me) x Canon(you)
Well that’s it from me! If you are interested in roleplaying, feel free to DM me and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.
2023.06.02 02:50 Miss_Wither [F4A] Fandom and Discord Only! Plots and Ideas Included!
CreativelyInsane’s Roleplay Post Fandom and Discord Only
About Me:
Hullo Hullo! My name is Creatively Insane. Creative for short. I am 21 yrs old and Nonbinary(They/Them). I love roleplaying, writing, art and music. I draw almost all my Oc art and love to share pieces I have done. I also love sharing memes as well and engaging in OOC chatter. I can write one to multiple paragraphs and range from literate to adv. Literate.
Please be aware that I cannot be online all the time. I get rather busy or there are days where I am not motivated enough to write. My availability can vary. I can rapid fire or respond every couple days. If you are not patient, I am not the partner for you. I am also understanding if you want to end a roleplay or if you want to do something different, just let me know.
Rules and Preferences:
🩷 You must be 18 or older to interact with me. I refuse to talk and roleplay with any minors. Characters must be over 18 as well.
🩷 Don’t be afraid to introduce yourself! I love seeing detailed introduction messages.
🩷 I prefer using an Oc only in Canon x OC.
🩷 You can pick the canon character you would like to be. The ones I have listed are just a suggestion of who I like.
🩷 OC x OC is limited on spots. Please be prepared in case all the spots are full.
🩷 I am no longer doing Doubling. I don’t like the idea of a transactional(‘I am only writing this because I want you to write something in return.”) roleplay.
🩷 No one liners.I would like it if you wrote at least the same length as I do. Though I do also run with quality over quantity as well.
🩷 Third person only and no asterisks for actions.
🩷 Please be ready with a writing sample in case I ask you for one.
🩷 Don’t be afraid to implement your own ideas and plots!
🩷 Romance is greatly preferred for all my roleplays.
🩷 NSFW and Sexual Content is Welcome!
🩷 I will not do harems. I don’t want to play multiple females for one boring self insert OC.
🩷 Most importantly, have fun! Writing is a hobby that everyone should not stress about and just enjoy!
NSFW Rules and Preferences
🩵 I am a switch and portray most of my OCs as well. I will not roleplay with just Submissive/bottom characters. I will not play as a femdom, either.
Ask me about my kinks and limits.
The main No’s: Incest, SA, Feet, armpits, toilet play, unrealistic proportions and genitalia, belly inflation, vore
Sexual Content is optional.I honestly prefer more stories than NSFW. Too much NSFW gets really boring to me.
Fandoms, Plots and Pairings
BNHA
Pairing Preference: OC x Canon and Oc x OC
Gender Pairing Preference: Female x Male, Female x Female
Characters I am looking for: Eraserhead, Present Mic, Snipe, Midnight, Mina, Denki, Shinso and Shigaraki.
Characters I don’t want(Over picked characters): Deku, Endeavor, Dabi
Who I will Be: Jessalyn or Aya(OCs). I will gladly send their bios!
Plots and Ideas: Vigilante x Hero Vigilante x Villain Civilian x Hero Civilian x Villain
Creepypasta
Pairing Preferences: Oc x Canon
Gender Pairing Preference: Female x Male, Female x Female
Characters I am Looking for: Eyeless Jack, Masky, Hoodie, Jeff the Killer, Jane the Killer, Kate the Chaser, Laughing Jack
Who I will be: Julia(OC)
Plots and Ideas:
Along Came The Rabbit
Strange noises sounded from the house next door. Unusual for a place that was always so quiet since Julia had moved in. Curiosity dragged her to investigate, finding herself in the presence of a trio of masked men. They were looking for something. Someone that had nothing to do with her until a little noise would change that moment. If only she hasn't been awake...then maybe she wouldn't be dragged into a horrible fate. The trio had been on the hunt for a man who taped evidence of their existence. The Slenderman needed this man dead and the evidence erased before it could get out to anyone. It was simple really, aside from the long road trip Until someone had to make their mission harder. Looks like the foxes were on the prowl for the unfortunate rabbit.
Home Sweet Home
Things seemed to be going in the right direction for Julia. Her job was paying decently enough that she could finally consider getting her own home! After looking around the market for a while, she receives a mysterious email about a home in the woods. It came off as a simple house sitting for a place to live. The owners were apparently living in another country for the time being. With the keys sent, she gets to moving. And boy was she shocked to find that the place was way bigger than she could imagine. Getting settled took time. And as the days passed, weird happenings began. Doors opening and closing. The television glitching and radio getting feedback. So many unexplained weird things were happening. Julia came to the conclusion that the house was haunted. Till three masked men would walk right through the mirror in the hallway just as she was passing by.
Undertale With AUs
Pairing Preferences: OC x Canon
Gender Pairing Preferences: Female x Male
Characters I am looking for: Sans, Papyrus, Gaster, Mettaton, Grillby
Characters I don’t want: Chara, Frisk
Who I will be: Kina(OC)
Plots and Ideas:
The Story Goes On
Kina grew up on the stories of Monsters and Humans living together. Her grandfather told these stories like he was there.Come to find out, he was. After inheriting this house, she found an old box of pictures and items that showed that he was there. And friends with a monster of great significance. So, with this new information and proof that monsters still exist, she travels towards the famed Mt. Ebott to find and help these monsters.
FNAF Security Breach
Pairing Preference: Oc x Canon
Gender Preferences: Female x male, Female x Female
Characters I am looking for: Sun/Moon, Freddy, Chica, Roxanne, Monty
Characters I don’t want: Vanessa
Who I will be: Loraine(OC) Plots and Ideas:
I don’t have anything yet. Would love to brainstorm some ideas.
Pokemon
Pairing Preferences: OC x Canon, OC x OC
Gender Pairings: Female x Male, Female x Female
Characters I am Looking for: Raihan. Open to pokemon as long as they are humanoid/anthro ONLY! they must pass the Harkness Test (google it) No beastiality like eevee and the evolutions and anything else that walks on four legs and doesn’t have any human-like emotions and understanding.
Who I will be: Silva(OC)
Plots and Ideas:
Slashers
Pairing Preferences: OC x Canon
Gender Preferences: Female x Male
Characters I am looking for: Micheal Myers, Ghostface(Billy and Stu), Brahms Heelshire, Jason Vorhees
Who I will be: Starla(OC)
Plots and Ideas:
Apex legends
Pairing Preferences: OC x Canon
Gender Pairings: Femalex Male, Female x Female, Female x Nonbinary
Characters I am looking for: Bloodhound, Fuse, Mirage, Loba, Vantage, Bangalore, Catalyst, Horizon
Who I will be: Amaris or Valerie (OCs)
Plots and Ideas:
Extra Plots
To think the proxies of Slenderman were now lacking in their jobs. After years of serving, the being if legend takes on a new group of killers that seem far more experienced. This competition leads to heads butting and close deaths, having the mansion being split in two to allow both sides their moments of peace. But a day doesn't seem to go by without a fight almost starting. One day, someone crossed into their territory. A man who let his curiosity get the best of him. Fleeing from the scene with a wound in his side, he stops a woman in time who picks him up to help. With the pages and the thief now gone, the original proxies are once again running against the clock in search for the suspect while Slenderman sends in the new recruits to pick up the mess. Unfortunately for the woman that saved the thief, he leaves behind what he had taken, letting the need to survive become the main priority. Poor Julia is now stuck with the target on her back and she must go on the run to save herself from being killed. Who will get to her first? How will it end?
Savior of the Broken
(Helluva Boss. I think Chadwick Thurman works well in terms of this plot. But I'm fine with anyone. I play as the snow leopard demon)
In the Greed ring, you have to be careful not to mess around with any of the residents or you'll end up six feet under. Fishing work wasn't hard but the work wasn't the best either. Mostly since they were considered one way jobs. If you didn't get along well with the boss or cross them, you were dead as well. Second changes weren't always an option, unless you had the money to save your ass. And it just so happens that (YC) may have just been that lucky. After a misunderstanding leading to a close death, a snow leopard demon stepped in and offered a large sum of money to take (YC) in. Will (YC) be grateful or will the road to a good friendship be a rocky path?
Not on the list and willing to try:
Demon Slayer
Avatar 1&2
Chainsaw Man
Same rules apply for these. Prefer OC(me) x Canon(you)
Well that’s it from me! If you are interested in roleplaying, feel free to DM me and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.
submitted by Miss_Wither to roleplaying [link] [comments]
About Me:
Hullo Hullo! My name is Creatively Insane. Creative for short. I am 21 yrs old and Nonbinary(They/Them). I love roleplaying, writing, art and music. I draw almost all my Oc art and love to share pieces I have done. I also love sharing memes as well and engaging in OOC chatter. I can write one to multiple paragraphs and range from literate to adv. Literate.
Please be aware that I cannot be online all the time. I get rather busy or there are days where I am not motivated enough to write. My availability can vary. I can rapid fire or respond every couple days. If you are not patient, I am not the partner for you. I am also understanding if you want to end a roleplay or if you want to do something different, just let me know.
Rules and Preferences:
🩷 You must be 18 or older to interact with me. I refuse to talk and roleplay with any minors. Characters must be over 18 as well.
🩷 Don’t be afraid to introduce yourself! I love seeing detailed introduction messages.
🩷 I prefer using an Oc only in Canon x OC.
🩷 You can pick the canon character you would like to be. The ones I have listed are just a suggestion of who I like.
🩷 OC x OC is limited on spots. Please be prepared in case all the spots are full.
🩷 I am no longer doing Doubling. I don’t like the idea of a transactional(‘I am only writing this because I want you to write something in return.”) roleplay.
🩷 No one liners.I would like it if you wrote at least the same length as I do. Though I do also run with quality over quantity as well.
🩷 Third person only and no asterisks for actions.
🩷 Please be ready with a writing sample in case I ask you for one.
🩷 Don’t be afraid to implement your own ideas and plots!
🩷 Romance is greatly preferred for all my roleplays.
🩷 NSFW and Sexual Content is Welcome!
🩷 I will not do harems. I don’t want to play multiple females for one boring self insert OC.
🩷 Most importantly, have fun! Writing is a hobby that everyone should not stress about and just enjoy!
NSFW Rules and Preferences
🩵 I am a switch and portray most of my OCs as well. I will not roleplay with just Submissive/bottom characters. I will not play as a femdom, either.
Ask me about my kinks and limits.
The main No’s: Incest, SA, Feet, armpits, toilet play, unrealistic proportions and genitalia, belly inflation, vore
Sexual Content is optional.I honestly prefer more stories than NSFW. Too much NSFW gets really boring to me.
Fandoms, Plots and Pairings
BNHA
Pairing Preference: OC x Canon and Oc x OC
Gender Pairing Preference: Female x Male, Female x Female
Characters I am looking for: Eraserhead, Present Mic, Snipe, Midnight, Mina, Denki, Shinso and Shigaraki.
Characters I don’t want(Over picked characters): Deku, Endeavor, Dabi
Who I will Be: Jessalyn or Aya(OCs). I will gladly send their bios!
Plots and Ideas: Vigilante x Hero Vigilante x Villain Civilian x Hero Civilian x Villain
Becoming A Hero, The Right WayRejected by hero schools and finding only flaws in becoming a hero, Jessalyn’s spite had grown. So much so that she had taken on the role of a mysterious vigilante to take justice into her own hands. She focused on minor and medium crimes. Stopping small stores and people from getting robbed, taking out the outsiders involved in crime and drug rings and more. Though her deeds did not go unnoticed. News caught on and people began talking about it. News articles appeared with talk of the mysterious vigilante. This caught the attention of the heroes. The new goal was to find this vigilante and bring her in. Though will they lock her up or give her the chance of becoming the very thing she learned to despise?
Creepypasta
Pairing Preferences: Oc x Canon
Gender Pairing Preference: Female x Male, Female x Female
Characters I am Looking for: Eyeless Jack, Masky, Hoodie, Jeff the Killer, Jane the Killer, Kate the Chaser, Laughing Jack
Who I will be: Julia(OC)
Plots and Ideas:
Along Came The Rabbit
Strange noises sounded from the house next door. Unusual for a place that was always so quiet since Julia had moved in. Curiosity dragged her to investigate, finding herself in the presence of a trio of masked men. They were looking for something. Someone that had nothing to do with her until a little noise would change that moment. If only she hasn't been awake...then maybe she wouldn't be dragged into a horrible fate. The trio had been on the hunt for a man who taped evidence of their existence. The Slenderman needed this man dead and the evidence erased before it could get out to anyone. It was simple really, aside from the long road trip Until someone had to make their mission harder. Looks like the foxes were on the prowl for the unfortunate rabbit.
Home Sweet Home
Things seemed to be going in the right direction for Julia. Her job was paying decently enough that she could finally consider getting her own home! After looking around the market for a while, she receives a mysterious email about a home in the woods. It came off as a simple house sitting for a place to live. The owners were apparently living in another country for the time being. With the keys sent, she gets to moving. And boy was she shocked to find that the place was way bigger than she could imagine. Getting settled took time. And as the days passed, weird happenings began. Doors opening and closing. The television glitching and radio getting feedback. So many unexplained weird things were happening. Julia came to the conclusion that the house was haunted. Till three masked men would walk right through the mirror in the hallway just as she was passing by.
Undertale With AUs
Pairing Preferences: OC x Canon
Gender Pairing Preferences: Female x Male
Characters I am looking for: Sans, Papyrus, Gaster, Mettaton, Grillby
Characters I don’t want: Chara, Frisk
Who I will be: Kina(OC)
Plots and Ideas:
Soon We may Cease to ExistAn experiment had gone wrong and now all the AUs are in grave danger. A Gaster had split into two. Neo Gaster was hell bent on destroying the AUs and erasing everything. Different characters band together to find a safe place to stay and to fight against this threat while others go on the search for the second Gaster, the one that separated from the neo Gaster and just may have a way to stop everything from existing. To Kina, Undertale was just a game. Until Sans appeared in her world with a grave message. Though something was wrong as she was dragged into this mess. Will They be able to save the AUs and put everything back in order? Or will they all soon cease to exist?
The Story Goes On
Kina grew up on the stories of Monsters and Humans living together. Her grandfather told these stories like he was there.Come to find out, he was. After inheriting this house, she found an old box of pictures and items that showed that he was there. And friends with a monster of great significance. So, with this new information and proof that monsters still exist, she travels towards the famed Mt. Ebott to find and help these monsters.
FNAF Security Breach
Pairing Preference: Oc x Canon
Gender Preferences: Female x male, Female x Female
Characters I am looking for: Sun/Moon, Freddy, Chica, Roxanne, Monty
Characters I don’t want: Vanessa
Who I will be: Loraine(OC) Plots and Ideas:
I don’t have anything yet. Would love to brainstorm some ideas.
Pokemon
Pairing Preferences: OC x Canon, OC x OC
Gender Pairings: Female x Male, Female x Female
Characters I am Looking for: Raihan. Open to pokemon as long as they are humanoid/anthro ONLY! they must pass the Harkness Test (google it) No beastiality like eevee and the evolutions and anything else that walks on four legs and doesn’t have any human-like emotions and understanding.
Who I will be: Silva(OC)
Plots and Ideas:
And So I Start AgainAt Age 10, Silva started her journey as a pokemon strainer, eager to battle and defeat the gym leaders. Though one sour battle with a stranger made her dreams dissipate. Years later at 22, realizing that she was going nowhere with her life, Silva decided to try again. With a more mature mindset, she wasn’t going to take anymore losses. Who will join her journey? And will she succeed in becoming the great trainer she always dreamed about?
Slashers
Pairing Preferences: OC x Canon
Gender Preferences: Female x Male
Characters I am looking for: Micheal Myers, Ghostface(Billy and Stu), Brahms Heelshire, Jason Vorhees
Who I will be: Starla(OC)
Plots and Ideas:
Wrong InvitationStarla and her husband Alex had come to the conclusion that a vacation was much needed. More so Alex as he had received an invitation to a new resort that was in an undisclosed area. What a great idea to go, apparently. Though this wasn't any typical resort. A remodeled version of the Overlook had been a refuge to the most notorious killers. A hotspot for dragging victims right into the grasps of these slashers. With no ability to look back, the couple must fight to survive while digging into their own demons.
Apex legends
Pairing Preferences: OC x Canon
Gender Pairings: Femalex Male, Female x Female, Female x Nonbinary
Characters I am looking for: Bloodhound, Fuse, Mirage, Loba, Vantage, Bangalore, Catalyst, Horizon
Who I will be: Amaris or Valerie (OCs)
Plots and Ideas:
Rise of a New LegendAmaris Rivera aka Faunus, is the new face of the Apex Games. Instead of being introduced to the other legends right off the bat, she was introduced as the games started. Some saw her as they died, while the final squad saw her as they killed her. Afterwards, with some tension, introductions were passed and things seemed to go as normal as for any new legend. The longer she stays, the more she realizes there is more behind these games than what she was told. Tensions between other legends and claims of a high power in the wrong. What was going on? Will Amaris uncover the mysteries of these legends, or drag herself under as well?
“I’m in the Future?!”Valerie Parkson simply had awoken to find herself not home. Instead, she finds herself in the hands of a scientist that is vague of where she is other than being in a concrete prison. A few years pass and she gets the opportunity of an escape and takes it to find that she isn’t on earth anymore. And not only that but, centuries into the future as well. Her aimless travels lands her into the hands of a legend of the Apex Games. They take her in and with the help of a few others, she’s included in the games while also trying to crack open the mystery of her missing memory and how she ended up years into the future.
Extra Plots
The Crossover from Hell(A mix of Slashers and Creepypasta)
To think the proxies of Slenderman were now lacking in their jobs. After years of serving, the being if legend takes on a new group of killers that seem far more experienced. This competition leads to heads butting and close deaths, having the mansion being split in two to allow both sides their moments of peace. But a day doesn't seem to go by without a fight almost starting. One day, someone crossed into their territory. A man who let his curiosity get the best of him. Fleeing from the scene with a wound in his side, he stops a woman in time who picks him up to help. With the pages and the thief now gone, the original proxies are once again running against the clock in search for the suspect while Slenderman sends in the new recruits to pick up the mess. Unfortunately for the woman that saved the thief, he leaves behind what he had taken, letting the need to survive become the main priority. Poor Julia is now stuck with the target on her back and she must go on the run to save herself from being killed. Who will get to her first? How will it end?
Savior of the Broken
(Helluva Boss. I think Chadwick Thurman works well in terms of this plot. But I'm fine with anyone. I play as the snow leopard demon)
In the Greed ring, you have to be careful not to mess around with any of the residents or you'll end up six feet under. Fishing work wasn't hard but the work wasn't the best either. Mostly since they were considered one way jobs. If you didn't get along well with the boss or cross them, you were dead as well. Second changes weren't always an option, unless you had the money to save your ass. And it just so happens that (YC) may have just been that lucky. After a misunderstanding leading to a close death, a snow leopard demon stepped in and offered a large sum of money to take (YC) in. Will (YC) be grateful or will the road to a good friendship be a rocky path?
Not on the list and willing to try:
Demon Slayer
Avatar 1&2
Chainsaw Man
Same rules apply for these. Prefer OC(me) x Canon(you)
Well that’s it from me! If you are interested in roleplaying, feel free to DM me and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.
2023.06.02 02:33 MasterCheeks39 This screen is driving me nuts please help!
 | I don't know how I did this, but instead of showing just the chat for this channel, now it's showing this video screen to the left of the chat. It's driving me insane. How do I turn it off so it shows only the chat? submitted by MasterCheeks39 to discordapp [link] [comments] |
2023.06.02 02:31 Shadowfoot Event: 4702 AR: Tomb of Sharsqa looted
4702 AR: Tomb of Sharsqa looted
Shielseis, the Queen of Asps, rose as a mummy after grave robbers found and plundered the tomb of Pharaoh Sharsqa II, leaving behind her sarcophagus. She seeks out those who despoiled her beloved crypt.
https://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Shielseis 4702AR
https://i.imgur.com/nWxi5fc.jpg
submitted by Shadowfoot to Golarion [link] [comments]
Shielseis, the Queen of Asps, rose as a mummy after grave robbers found and plundered the tomb of Pharaoh Sharsqa II, leaving behind her sarcophagus. She seeks out those who despoiled her beloved crypt.
https://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Shielseis 4702AR
https://i.imgur.com/nWxi5fc.jpg
2023.06.02 02:09 WeirdBryceGuy The Deathgrounds of Love
Time had barely passed, the memory of her presence was still so fresh as to be palpable, when I entered the Deathgrounds of Love. For many, unrequited love diminishes before it can mount further and poison the heart. It fades as life goes on, and infatuations are forgotten; paramours become little more than half-remembered follies. But my love for her grew even as we drifted apart, even as her disdain for me blossomed into a multi-thorned and blackly petaled flower. Almost ironically it grew, until it finally manifested as a material, tangible thing: a heart, which came to beat with malignant autonomy upon a veiny stalk, in the midst of that graven place where unchecked love evilly flourishes.
Unguarded—at its gates, at least—were the grounds when I arrived, doubly delirious with grief and wonderment. I had not known of the place beforehand. It was only with the impossible manifestation of that heart, born of my anguish, that I became suddenly and providentially aware of the the graveyard and its unwholesome, reality-defying contents.
Despite what had occurred—and what apparently always occurs among the worm-riddled, blood-sodden soil—the place was not a garden; life found itself thriving there, yes, but not any life born of God's design. And death was chief above all, no matter how many vital organs beat ceaselessly from stalk to arterial stalk.
I entered ignorant of what I may find, beyond that which I had been drawn to upon waking suddenly earlier that morning. The outer grounds were rank with an earthy and coppery smell, like the dank, pulpy earth of a fresh battlefield. I got the impression that lives had been spent upon the grey soil, hundreds if not thousands of them; and yet there was only the dismal land, overhanged by a subtle atmosphere of mist, and environed by old trees. Beyond this mist I could just barely discern the inner plots; and I knew that therein I'd find my second heart.
Further in I progressed, until I entered that sepulchral garden, with its rows upon rows of vegetative hearts, sprouted with unsettling plumpness from the soil like overly ripe fruits. The audibility of their beating was maddening; it was as if thousands of people had been stripped of their flesh, leaving only their still-animate hearts. Even worse, they beat not in unison, but in horrible discordance - no two hearts held the same rhythm.
And yet somehow through the tachycardiac chaos I sensed my own - that is to say the heart to which I'd been tirelessly drawn.
Like an automaton I trudged on, my shoes sinking into the blood-laden soil; my sight blurred by the newly emergent haze of crimson. My mind befogged by the increasingly humid air.
With an automatic gentleness I pushed through the rows of unfamiliar hearts until I came upon my own. There it was, visually indistinct among the others, and yet I knew without a shred of doubt that it was mine. It pulsed with a steady rhythm, bleeding from its valves as if there were arteries to carry away the blood; a vascular system through which it could circulate. Despite the morbidity of it, I found it beautiful, as if it was something I'd searched for my entire life; some long-sought treasure of my nightly dreams.
So marveled was I, that I didn't notice the approach of the stranger. It wasn't until he had placed a hand on my shoulder that I became aware of him. I recoiled, but was kept from jumping back by the firmness of his gloved grip. He was a tall old man, dressed in a long grey overcoat, at the waist of which sat some kind of multi-pocketed workman's belt. There were several pouches affixed to the belt, and all bore black splotches of some unidentifiable substance. He wore what I assumed had once been black boots, but were now stained a deep crimson - undoubtedly from having spent innumerable hours trudging through the blood-rich soil.
His face was old and severe, with a blackly stained beard that trailed thinly down to his chest. His coal-black eyes met my own, and for a brief moment I felt as if was being pulled from my own body and examined in some outré, incorporeal pocket of space. A moment later, the phantasmal feeling passed, and the man released his iron grip on me.
"You've come for the heart, that it?"
I nodded, not yet able to form words; the shock of his appearance still fresh.
He grunted, and his voice reminded me of a dying animal I'd once seen on the road: harsh and guttural, defiant against pity and death. In his other hand he held a pair of garden shears, and with these he gestured towards the heart.
"Ye can have it, it's yers. But I'll have to take the one ye got in ye. An exchange. Don't fret about the pain. Ye won't feel it."
This proposition reigned in my mind from the state of fantastical acceptance it had gone to. Suddenly I became acutely, frighteningly aware that I was standing in a cemetery full of human hearts, all of which had somehow grown from the ground; and that this caretaker had actually offered to cut out mine in exchange for the one beating before me. It was ludicrous, macabre beyond measure.... and yet it was real.
"Ye should know: that in taking this here heart, you'll be happy, happier than you've ever been. But you'll forget the person you're longing for. They'll be wiped from yer memory. That's the price. Or the relief, depending."
The thought of a future without the nightly anguish of having lost her—made doubly terrible by the fact that it had been my fault—seemed almost too good to be true. But the idea of losing her completely, of having her smile erased from my memory, her voice lost to the mental void....it was inconceivable. To have loved and lost, and all that.
As much as it pained me to, I denied the man's bizarre offer.
His eyes narrowed, focusing on my chest - my heart. He pointed his empty hand at me and said, "Are ye sure? If left unchecked, it could kill ye. The grief. The sorrow. I've seen it, time and time again."
Had I not come to my senses about the utter weirdness of the situation, I probably wouldn't have noticed the almost imperceptible changes in his demeanor and posture. There was a yearning in his stance, a predatory hunger. Given the circumstances, it felt vampiric.
I backed away from him, again reiterating that I'd like to keep my heart, no matter what trouble it could cause me down the line. The stranger sighed, exhaling a visible cloud of what appeared to be black smoke or vapor.
"Too bad. I'm damn hungry."
That was the final kick my brain needed to fully recognize and piece together all the little clues laid around me. The soil, whilst predominantly a deep red, also held clumps of black matter in places - almost always near the beating hearts. This was plainly not mulch or any kind of gardening substance; the clumps were fleshy, some slick with what was obviously blackened blood. And that led me to two other points of observation: the man's belt, with its stained pouches, and his darkly stained beard - as if he'd been eating something that leaked black juices.
"Ah. You've put it together, have ye? No matter."
His eyes must've followed mine as I surveyed the scene before me. Still, the truth, the horrid reality, hadn't yet come to me.
"I eat the hearts given to me. Turned black they've been, in their grief. Fat, poisoned things. Only the most terminal are drawn to this place. Ye have a sick heart, and are better off without it. Serves ye no purpose to keep it. Why not let me eat it? Keeps me full, and keeps me own inklings towards love at bay. Stamps em down, so I never feel a thing. Never have to love, and lose. Never again..."
He seemed to mentally close upon himself for a moment, so I took the opportunity to begin my retreat. With much less care than before I pushed through the rows of hearts, heedless of how much damage I dealt to the organs and their repulsive stalks. Quickly I returned to that barren terrain before the plots, where the soil was a much more tolerable grey, and where the atmosphere was free of that delirious scarlet haze and its stifling humidity.
I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. Just as I did so, a shriek echoed into the night, and a voice full of mad demonic fury tore through the trees, sending the nesting birds skyward.
"Give me your fucking heart!"
I should've continued onward, the gate was only a few yards away; but the Satanic magnitude of the voice was irresistibly attention-grabbing. I felt compelled to see what kind of odious creature could've projected such anger, even though I'd seen the man just moments before.
The ground began to shake, and the withered trees trembled, loosing half-dead leaves onto the ground. And that awful scarlet haze came rolling over the boughs, deeply tinting the atmosphere as if it were a living thing. A sentient cloud of evil.
And from amidst the malignant haze came a thing that might have once been a man, but had undergone a transformation so repugnantly profound that any remaining elements of humanity appeared as mockeries of the form. It towered above the feeble trees, even using their tops as points of stability as it lurched toward me. It's body was vaguely anthropomorphic, distantly human, but outwardly fish-like; the flesh of some selachian nightmare draped over the skeleton of a man.
A face, contorted abhorrently to fit an angular, newly mutated skull, bared a broad maw at me. The teeth shone like an assassin's daggers in the night, sending chills throughout my body. Even as it cleared the tree line and revealed itself fully to me, I could not move: I was so completely transfixed by the depravity of its body, by the unreality of its existence.
"Ye could've given me your heart, and all would've been well. But now...now you've gone and made me take off me coat. I don't like to take off me coat. I don't like having to work for me food. I'm all out of it, and I won't let the thoughts of love come back to me. I won't allow it. Now, c'mere and let me pull you apart."
Despite his hideous transformation, his voice was largely unchanged. Just deeper, more guttural, his ire made plain. The lack of any overt monstrous intonation only made the only whole ordeal more terrifying.
Wrenching control away from the panicked part of my mind, I forced my body to turn and move towards the gate. The thing bounded after me like some frenzied animal, shaking the ground with its every step. I pumped my legs to their absolute limits, reaching the gate just as the humidity of the haze tickled the back of my neck.
I threw it open, leapt through, and slammed it just as that colossal nightmare reached it. I wouldn't have thought the old gate any real match for its massive frame, but the rusted iron held against the horror's assault. The haze was also somehow kept at bay, not a single particle of the mysterious vapor breaching the bars despite how thickly it pressed upon it.
Before it could pull some trick or transform into something capable by bypassing the providentially sturdy gate, I turned away and ran back to my car. And while the creature didn't follow me, its hateful voice did.
"The heart! Bring back your heart!"
I drove away without looking back.
submitted by WeirdBryceGuy to libraryofshadows [link] [comments]
Unguarded—at its gates, at least—were the grounds when I arrived, doubly delirious with grief and wonderment. I had not known of the place beforehand. It was only with the impossible manifestation of that heart, born of my anguish, that I became suddenly and providentially aware of the the graveyard and its unwholesome, reality-defying contents.
Despite what had occurred—and what apparently always occurs among the worm-riddled, blood-sodden soil—the place was not a garden; life found itself thriving there, yes, but not any life born of God's design. And death was chief above all, no matter how many vital organs beat ceaselessly from stalk to arterial stalk.
I entered ignorant of what I may find, beyond that which I had been drawn to upon waking suddenly earlier that morning. The outer grounds were rank with an earthy and coppery smell, like the dank, pulpy earth of a fresh battlefield. I got the impression that lives had been spent upon the grey soil, hundreds if not thousands of them; and yet there was only the dismal land, overhanged by a subtle atmosphere of mist, and environed by old trees. Beyond this mist I could just barely discern the inner plots; and I knew that therein I'd find my second heart.
Further in I progressed, until I entered that sepulchral garden, with its rows upon rows of vegetative hearts, sprouted with unsettling plumpness from the soil like overly ripe fruits. The audibility of their beating was maddening; it was as if thousands of people had been stripped of their flesh, leaving only their still-animate hearts. Even worse, they beat not in unison, but in horrible discordance - no two hearts held the same rhythm.
And yet somehow through the tachycardiac chaos I sensed my own - that is to say the heart to which I'd been tirelessly drawn.
Like an automaton I trudged on, my shoes sinking into the blood-laden soil; my sight blurred by the newly emergent haze of crimson. My mind befogged by the increasingly humid air.
With an automatic gentleness I pushed through the rows of unfamiliar hearts until I came upon my own. There it was, visually indistinct among the others, and yet I knew without a shred of doubt that it was mine. It pulsed with a steady rhythm, bleeding from its valves as if there were arteries to carry away the blood; a vascular system through which it could circulate. Despite the morbidity of it, I found it beautiful, as if it was something I'd searched for my entire life; some long-sought treasure of my nightly dreams.
So marveled was I, that I didn't notice the approach of the stranger. It wasn't until he had placed a hand on my shoulder that I became aware of him. I recoiled, but was kept from jumping back by the firmness of his gloved grip. He was a tall old man, dressed in a long grey overcoat, at the waist of which sat some kind of multi-pocketed workman's belt. There were several pouches affixed to the belt, and all bore black splotches of some unidentifiable substance. He wore what I assumed had once been black boots, but were now stained a deep crimson - undoubtedly from having spent innumerable hours trudging through the blood-rich soil.
His face was old and severe, with a blackly stained beard that trailed thinly down to his chest. His coal-black eyes met my own, and for a brief moment I felt as if was being pulled from my own body and examined in some outré, incorporeal pocket of space. A moment later, the phantasmal feeling passed, and the man released his iron grip on me.
"You've come for the heart, that it?"
I nodded, not yet able to form words; the shock of his appearance still fresh.
He grunted, and his voice reminded me of a dying animal I'd once seen on the road: harsh and guttural, defiant against pity and death. In his other hand he held a pair of garden shears, and with these he gestured towards the heart.
"Ye can have it, it's yers. But I'll have to take the one ye got in ye. An exchange. Don't fret about the pain. Ye won't feel it."
This proposition reigned in my mind from the state of fantastical acceptance it had gone to. Suddenly I became acutely, frighteningly aware that I was standing in a cemetery full of human hearts, all of which had somehow grown from the ground; and that this caretaker had actually offered to cut out mine in exchange for the one beating before me. It was ludicrous, macabre beyond measure.... and yet it was real.
"Ye should know: that in taking this here heart, you'll be happy, happier than you've ever been. But you'll forget the person you're longing for. They'll be wiped from yer memory. That's the price. Or the relief, depending."
The thought of a future without the nightly anguish of having lost her—made doubly terrible by the fact that it had been my fault—seemed almost too good to be true. But the idea of losing her completely, of having her smile erased from my memory, her voice lost to the mental void....it was inconceivable. To have loved and lost, and all that.
As much as it pained me to, I denied the man's bizarre offer.
His eyes narrowed, focusing on my chest - my heart. He pointed his empty hand at me and said, "Are ye sure? If left unchecked, it could kill ye. The grief. The sorrow. I've seen it, time and time again."
Had I not come to my senses about the utter weirdness of the situation, I probably wouldn't have noticed the almost imperceptible changes in his demeanor and posture. There was a yearning in his stance, a predatory hunger. Given the circumstances, it felt vampiric.
I backed away from him, again reiterating that I'd like to keep my heart, no matter what trouble it could cause me down the line. The stranger sighed, exhaling a visible cloud of what appeared to be black smoke or vapor.
"Too bad. I'm damn hungry."
That was the final kick my brain needed to fully recognize and piece together all the little clues laid around me. The soil, whilst predominantly a deep red, also held clumps of black matter in places - almost always near the beating hearts. This was plainly not mulch or any kind of gardening substance; the clumps were fleshy, some slick with what was obviously blackened blood. And that led me to two other points of observation: the man's belt, with its stained pouches, and his darkly stained beard - as if he'd been eating something that leaked black juices.
"Ah. You've put it together, have ye? No matter."
His eyes must've followed mine as I surveyed the scene before me. Still, the truth, the horrid reality, hadn't yet come to me.
"I eat the hearts given to me. Turned black they've been, in their grief. Fat, poisoned things. Only the most terminal are drawn to this place. Ye have a sick heart, and are better off without it. Serves ye no purpose to keep it. Why not let me eat it? Keeps me full, and keeps me own inklings towards love at bay. Stamps em down, so I never feel a thing. Never have to love, and lose. Never again..."
He seemed to mentally close upon himself for a moment, so I took the opportunity to begin my retreat. With much less care than before I pushed through the rows of hearts, heedless of how much damage I dealt to the organs and their repulsive stalks. Quickly I returned to that barren terrain before the plots, where the soil was a much more tolerable grey, and where the atmosphere was free of that delirious scarlet haze and its stifling humidity.
I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. Just as I did so, a shriek echoed into the night, and a voice full of mad demonic fury tore through the trees, sending the nesting birds skyward.
"Give me your fucking heart!"
I should've continued onward, the gate was only a few yards away; but the Satanic magnitude of the voice was irresistibly attention-grabbing. I felt compelled to see what kind of odious creature could've projected such anger, even though I'd seen the man just moments before.
The ground began to shake, and the withered trees trembled, loosing half-dead leaves onto the ground. And that awful scarlet haze came rolling over the boughs, deeply tinting the atmosphere as if it were a living thing. A sentient cloud of evil.
And from amidst the malignant haze came a thing that might have once been a man, but had undergone a transformation so repugnantly profound that any remaining elements of humanity appeared as mockeries of the form. It towered above the feeble trees, even using their tops as points of stability as it lurched toward me. It's body was vaguely anthropomorphic, distantly human, but outwardly fish-like; the flesh of some selachian nightmare draped over the skeleton of a man.
A face, contorted abhorrently to fit an angular, newly mutated skull, bared a broad maw at me. The teeth shone like an assassin's daggers in the night, sending chills throughout my body. Even as it cleared the tree line and revealed itself fully to me, I could not move: I was so completely transfixed by the depravity of its body, by the unreality of its existence.
"Ye could've given me your heart, and all would've been well. But now...now you've gone and made me take off me coat. I don't like to take off me coat. I don't like having to work for me food. I'm all out of it, and I won't let the thoughts of love come back to me. I won't allow it. Now, c'mere and let me pull you apart."
Despite his hideous transformation, his voice was largely unchanged. Just deeper, more guttural, his ire made plain. The lack of any overt monstrous intonation only made the only whole ordeal more terrifying.
Wrenching control away from the panicked part of my mind, I forced my body to turn and move towards the gate. The thing bounded after me like some frenzied animal, shaking the ground with its every step. I pumped my legs to their absolute limits, reaching the gate just as the humidity of the haze tickled the back of my neck.
I threw it open, leapt through, and slammed it just as that colossal nightmare reached it. I wouldn't have thought the old gate any real match for its massive frame, but the rusted iron held against the horror's assault. The haze was also somehow kept at bay, not a single particle of the mysterious vapor breaching the bars despite how thickly it pressed upon it.
Before it could pull some trick or transform into something capable by bypassing the providentially sturdy gate, I turned away and ran back to my car. And while the creature didn't follow me, its hateful voice did.
"The heart! Bring back your heart!"
I drove away without looking back.
2023.06.02 02:08 WeirdBryceGuy The Deathgrounds of Love
Time had barely passed, the memory of her presence was still so fresh as to be palpable, when I entered the Deathgrounds of Love. For many, unrequited love diminishes before it can mount further and poison the heart. It fades as life goes on, and infatuations are forgotten; paramours become little more than half-remembered follies. But my love for her grew even as we drifted apart, even as her disdain for me blossomed into a multi-thorned and blackly petaled flower. Almost ironically it grew, until it finally manifested as a material, tangible thing: a heart, which came to beat with malignant autonomy upon a veiny stalk, in the midst of that graven place where unchecked love evilly flourishes.
Unguarded—at its gates, at least—were the grounds when I arrived, doubly delirious with grief and wonderment. I had not known of the place beforehand. It was only with the impossible manifestation of that heart, born of my anguish, that I became suddenly and providentially aware of the the graveyard and its unwholesome, reality-defying contents.
Despite what had occurred—and what apparently always occurs among the worm-riddled, blood-sodden soil—the place was not a garden; life found itself thriving there, yes, but not any life born of God's design. And death was chief above all, no matter how many vital organs beat ceaselessly from stalk to arterial stalk.
I entered ignorant of what I may find, beyond that which I had been drawn to upon waking suddenly earlier that morning. The outer grounds were rank with an earthy and coppery smell, like the dank, pulpy earth of a fresh battlefield. I got the impression that lives had been spent upon the grey soil, hundreds if not thousands of them; and yet there was only the dismal land, overhanged by a subtle atmosphere of mist, and environed by old trees. Beyond this mist I could just barely discern the inner plots; and I knew that therein I'd find my second heart.
Further in I progressed, until I entered that sepulchral garden, with its rows upon rows of vegetative hearts, sprouted with unsettling plumpness from the soil like overly ripe fruits. The audibility of their beating was maddening; it was as if thousands of people had been stripped of their flesh, leaving only their still-animate hearts. Even worse, they beat not in unison, but in horrible discordance - no two hearts held the same rhythm.
And yet somehow through the tachycardiac chaos I sensed my own - that is to say the heart to which I'd been tirelessly drawn.
Like an automaton I trudged on, my shoes sinking into the blood-laden soil; my sight blurred by the newly emergent haze of crimson. My mind befogged by the increasingly humid air.
With an automatic gentleness I pushed through the rows of unfamiliar hearts until I came upon my own. There it was, visually indistinct among the others, and yet I knew without a shred of doubt that it was mine. It pulsed with a steady rhythm, bleeding from its valves as if there were arteries to carry away the blood; a vascular system through which it could circulate. Despite the morbidity of it, I found it beautiful, as if it was something I'd searched for my entire life; some long-sought treasure of my nightly dreams.
So marveled was I, that I didn't notice the approach of the stranger. It wasn't until he had placed a hand on my shoulder that I became aware of him. I recoiled, but was kept from jumping back by the firmness of his gloved grip. He was a tall old man, dressed in a long grey overcoat, at the waist of which sat some kind of multi-pocketed workman's belt. There were several pouches affixed to the belt, and all bore black splotches of some unidentifiable substance. He wore what I assumed had once been black boots, but were now stained a deep crimson - undoubtedly from having spent innumerable hours trudging through the blood-rich soil.
His face was old and severe, with a blackly stained beard that trailed thinly down to his chest. His coal-black eyes met my own, and for a brief moment I felt as if was being pulled from my own body and examined in some outré, incorporeal pocket of space. A moment later, the phantasmal feeling passed, and the man released his iron grip on me.
"You've come for the heart, that it?"
I nodded, not yet able to form words; the shock of his appearance still fresh.
He grunted, and his voice reminded me of a dying animal I'd once seen on the road: harsh and guttural, defiant against pity and death. In his other hand he held a pair of garden shears, and with these he gestured towards the heart.
"Ye can have it, it's yers. But I'll have to take the one ye got in ye. An exchange. Don't fret about the pain. Ye won't feel it."
This proposition reigned in my mind from the state of fantastical acceptance it had gone to. Suddenly I became acutely, frighteningly aware that I was standing in a cemetery full of human hearts, all of which had somehow grown from the ground; and that this caretaker had actually offered to cut out mine in exchange for the one beating before me. It was ludicrous, macabre beyond measure.... and yet it was real.
"Ye should know: that in taking this here heart, you'll be happy, happier than you've ever been. But you'll forget the person you're longing for. They'll be wiped from yer memory. That's the price. Or the relief, depending."
The thought of a future without the nightly anguish of having lost her—made doubly terrible by the fact that it had been my fault—seemed almost too good to be true. But the idea of losing her completely, of having her smile erased from my memory, her voice lost to the mental void....it was inconceivable. To have loved and lost, and all that.
As much as it pained me to, I denied the man's bizarre offer.
His eyes narrowed, focusing on my chest - my heart. He pointed his empty hand at me and said, "Are ye sure? If left unchecked, it could kill ye. The grief. The sorrow. I've seen it, time and time again."
Had I not come to my senses about the utter weirdness of the situation, I probably wouldn't have noticed the almost imperceptible changes in his demeanor and posture. There was a yearning in his stance, a predatory hunger. Given the circumstances, it felt vampiric.
I backed away from him, again reiterating that I'd like to keep my heart, no matter what trouble it could cause me down the line. The stranger sighed, exhaling a visible cloud of what appeared to be black smoke or vapor.
"Too bad. I'm damn hungry."
That was the final kick my brain needed to fully recognize and piece together all the little clues laid around me. The soil, whilst predominantly a deep red, also held clumps of black matter in places - almost always near the beating hearts. This was plainly not mulch or any kind of gardening substance; the clumps were fleshy, some slick with what was obviously blackened blood. And that led me to two other points of observation: the man's belt, with its stained pouches, and his darkly stained beard - as if he'd been eating something that leaked black juices.
"Ah. You've put it together, have ye? No matter."
His eyes must've followed mine as I surveyed the scene before me. Still, the truth, the horrid reality, hadn't yet come to me.
"I eat the hearts given to me. Turned black they've been, in their grief. Fat, poisoned things. Only the most terminal are drawn to this place. Ye have a sick heart, and are better off without it. Serves ye no purpose to keep it. Why not let me eat it? Keeps me full, and keeps me own inklings towards love at bay. Stamps em down, so I never feel a thing. Never have to love, and lose. Never again..."
He seemed to mentally close upon himself for a moment, so I took the opportunity to begin my retreat. With much less care than before I pushed through the rows of hearts, heedless of how much damage I dealt to the organs and their repulsive stalks. Quickly I returned to that barren terrain before the plots, where the soil was a much more tolerable grey, and where the atmosphere was free of that delirious scarlet haze and its stifling humidity.
I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. Just as I did so, a shriek echoed into the night, and a voice full of mad demonic fury tore through the trees, sending the nesting birds skyward.
"Give me your goddamn heart!"
I should've continued onward, the gate was only a few yards away; but the Satanic magnitude of the voice was irresistibly attention-grabbing. I felt compelled to see what kind of odious creature could've projected such anger, even though I'd seen the man just moments before.
The ground began to shake, and the withered trees trembled, loosing half-dead leaves onto the ground. And that awful scarlet haze came rolling over the boughs, deeply tinting the atmosphere as if it were a living thing. A sentient cloud of evil.
And from amidst the malignant haze came a thing that might have once been a man, but had undergone a transformation so repugnantly profound that any remaining elements of humanity appeared as mockeries of the form. It towered above the feeble trees, even using their tops as points of stability as it lurched toward me. It's body was vaguely anthropomorphic, distantly human, but outwardly fish-like; the flesh of some selachian nightmare draped over the skeleton of a man.
A face, contorted abhorrently to fit an angular, newly mutated skull, bared a broad maw at me. The teeth shone like an assassin's daggers in the night, sending chills throughout my body. Even as it cleared the tree line and revealed itself fully to me, I could not move: I was so completely transfixed by the depravity of its body, by the unreality of its existence.
"Ye could've given me your heart, and all would've been well. But now...now you've gone and made me take off me coat. I don't like to take off me coat. I don't like having to work for me food. I'm all out of it, and I won't let the thoughts of love come back to me. I won't allow it. Now, c'mere and let me pull you apart."
Despite his hideous transformation, his voice was largely unchanged. Just deeper, more guttural, his ire made plain. The lack of any overt monstrous intonation only made the only whole ordeal more terrifying.
Wrenching control away from the panicked part of my mind, I forced my body to turn and move towards the gate. The thing bounded after me like some frenzied animal, shaking the ground with its every step. I pumped my legs to their absolute limits, reaching the gate just as the humidity of the haze tickled the back of my neck.
I threw it open, leapt through, and slammed it just as that colossal nightmare reached it. I wouldn't have thought the old gate any real match for its massive frame, but the rusted iron held against the horror's assault. The haze was also somehow kept at bay, not a single particle of the mysterious vapor breaching the bars despite how thickly it pressed upon it.
Before it could pull some trick or transform into something capable by bypassing the providentially sturdy gate, I turned away and ran back to my car. And while the creature didn't follow me, its hateful voice did.
"The heart! Bring back your heart!"
I drove away without looking back.
submitted by WeirdBryceGuy to ChillingApp [link] [comments]
Unguarded—at its gates, at least—were the grounds when I arrived, doubly delirious with grief and wonderment. I had not known of the place beforehand. It was only with the impossible manifestation of that heart, born of my anguish, that I became suddenly and providentially aware of the the graveyard and its unwholesome, reality-defying contents.
Despite what had occurred—and what apparently always occurs among the worm-riddled, blood-sodden soil—the place was not a garden; life found itself thriving there, yes, but not any life born of God's design. And death was chief above all, no matter how many vital organs beat ceaselessly from stalk to arterial stalk.
I entered ignorant of what I may find, beyond that which I had been drawn to upon waking suddenly earlier that morning. The outer grounds were rank with an earthy and coppery smell, like the dank, pulpy earth of a fresh battlefield. I got the impression that lives had been spent upon the grey soil, hundreds if not thousands of them; and yet there was only the dismal land, overhanged by a subtle atmosphere of mist, and environed by old trees. Beyond this mist I could just barely discern the inner plots; and I knew that therein I'd find my second heart.
Further in I progressed, until I entered that sepulchral garden, with its rows upon rows of vegetative hearts, sprouted with unsettling plumpness from the soil like overly ripe fruits. The audibility of their beating was maddening; it was as if thousands of people had been stripped of their flesh, leaving only their still-animate hearts. Even worse, they beat not in unison, but in horrible discordance - no two hearts held the same rhythm.
And yet somehow through the tachycardiac chaos I sensed my own - that is to say the heart to which I'd been tirelessly drawn.
Like an automaton I trudged on, my shoes sinking into the blood-laden soil; my sight blurred by the newly emergent haze of crimson. My mind befogged by the increasingly humid air.
With an automatic gentleness I pushed through the rows of unfamiliar hearts until I came upon my own. There it was, visually indistinct among the others, and yet I knew without a shred of doubt that it was mine. It pulsed with a steady rhythm, bleeding from its valves as if there were arteries to carry away the blood; a vascular system through which it could circulate. Despite the morbidity of it, I found it beautiful, as if it was something I'd searched for my entire life; some long-sought treasure of my nightly dreams.
So marveled was I, that I didn't notice the approach of the stranger. It wasn't until he had placed a hand on my shoulder that I became aware of him. I recoiled, but was kept from jumping back by the firmness of his gloved grip. He was a tall old man, dressed in a long grey overcoat, at the waist of which sat some kind of multi-pocketed workman's belt. There were several pouches affixed to the belt, and all bore black splotches of some unidentifiable substance. He wore what I assumed had once been black boots, but were now stained a deep crimson - undoubtedly from having spent innumerable hours trudging through the blood-rich soil.
His face was old and severe, with a blackly stained beard that trailed thinly down to his chest. His coal-black eyes met my own, and for a brief moment I felt as if was being pulled from my own body and examined in some outré, incorporeal pocket of space. A moment later, the phantasmal feeling passed, and the man released his iron grip on me.
"You've come for the heart, that it?"
I nodded, not yet able to form words; the shock of his appearance still fresh.
He grunted, and his voice reminded me of a dying animal I'd once seen on the road: harsh and guttural, defiant against pity and death. In his other hand he held a pair of garden shears, and with these he gestured towards the heart.
"Ye can have it, it's yers. But I'll have to take the one ye got in ye. An exchange. Don't fret about the pain. Ye won't feel it."
This proposition reigned in my mind from the state of fantastical acceptance it had gone to. Suddenly I became acutely, frighteningly aware that I was standing in a cemetery full of human hearts, all of which had somehow grown from the ground; and that this caretaker had actually offered to cut out mine in exchange for the one beating before me. It was ludicrous, macabre beyond measure.... and yet it was real.
"Ye should know: that in taking this here heart, you'll be happy, happier than you've ever been. But you'll forget the person you're longing for. They'll be wiped from yer memory. That's the price. Or the relief, depending."
The thought of a future without the nightly anguish of having lost her—made doubly terrible by the fact that it had been my fault—seemed almost too good to be true. But the idea of losing her completely, of having her smile erased from my memory, her voice lost to the mental void....it was inconceivable. To have loved and lost, and all that.
As much as it pained me to, I denied the man's bizarre offer.
His eyes narrowed, focusing on my chest - my heart. He pointed his empty hand at me and said, "Are ye sure? If left unchecked, it could kill ye. The grief. The sorrow. I've seen it, time and time again."
Had I not come to my senses about the utter weirdness of the situation, I probably wouldn't have noticed the almost imperceptible changes in his demeanor and posture. There was a yearning in his stance, a predatory hunger. Given the circumstances, it felt vampiric.
I backed away from him, again reiterating that I'd like to keep my heart, no matter what trouble it could cause me down the line. The stranger sighed, exhaling a visible cloud of what appeared to be black smoke or vapor.
"Too bad. I'm damn hungry."
That was the final kick my brain needed to fully recognize and piece together all the little clues laid around me. The soil, whilst predominantly a deep red, also held clumps of black matter in places - almost always near the beating hearts. This was plainly not mulch or any kind of gardening substance; the clumps were fleshy, some slick with what was obviously blackened blood. And that led me to two other points of observation: the man's belt, with its stained pouches, and his darkly stained beard - as if he'd been eating something that leaked black juices.
"Ah. You've put it together, have ye? No matter."
His eyes must've followed mine as I surveyed the scene before me. Still, the truth, the horrid reality, hadn't yet come to me.
"I eat the hearts given to me. Turned black they've been, in their grief. Fat, poisoned things. Only the most terminal are drawn to this place. Ye have a sick heart, and are better off without it. Serves ye no purpose to keep it. Why not let me eat it? Keeps me full, and keeps me own inklings towards love at bay. Stamps em down, so I never feel a thing. Never have to love, and lose. Never again..."
He seemed to mentally close upon himself for a moment, so I took the opportunity to begin my retreat. With much less care than before I pushed through the rows of hearts, heedless of how much damage I dealt to the organs and their repulsive stalks. Quickly I returned to that barren terrain before the plots, where the soil was a much more tolerable grey, and where the atmosphere was free of that delirious scarlet haze and its stifling humidity.
I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. Just as I did so, a shriek echoed into the night, and a voice full of mad demonic fury tore through the trees, sending the nesting birds skyward.
"Give me your goddamn heart!"
I should've continued onward, the gate was only a few yards away; but the Satanic magnitude of the voice was irresistibly attention-grabbing. I felt compelled to see what kind of odious creature could've projected such anger, even though I'd seen the man just moments before.
The ground began to shake, and the withered trees trembled, loosing half-dead leaves onto the ground. And that awful scarlet haze came rolling over the boughs, deeply tinting the atmosphere as if it were a living thing. A sentient cloud of evil.
And from amidst the malignant haze came a thing that might have once been a man, but had undergone a transformation so repugnantly profound that any remaining elements of humanity appeared as mockeries of the form. It towered above the feeble trees, even using their tops as points of stability as it lurched toward me. It's body was vaguely anthropomorphic, distantly human, but outwardly fish-like; the flesh of some selachian nightmare draped over the skeleton of a man.
A face, contorted abhorrently to fit an angular, newly mutated skull, bared a broad maw at me. The teeth shone like an assassin's daggers in the night, sending chills throughout my body. Even as it cleared the tree line and revealed itself fully to me, I could not move: I was so completely transfixed by the depravity of its body, by the unreality of its existence.
"Ye could've given me your heart, and all would've been well. But now...now you've gone and made me take off me coat. I don't like to take off me coat. I don't like having to work for me food. I'm all out of it, and I won't let the thoughts of love come back to me. I won't allow it. Now, c'mere and let me pull you apart."
Despite his hideous transformation, his voice was largely unchanged. Just deeper, more guttural, his ire made plain. The lack of any overt monstrous intonation only made the only whole ordeal more terrifying.
Wrenching control away from the panicked part of my mind, I forced my body to turn and move towards the gate. The thing bounded after me like some frenzied animal, shaking the ground with its every step. I pumped my legs to their absolute limits, reaching the gate just as the humidity of the haze tickled the back of my neck.
I threw it open, leapt through, and slammed it just as that colossal nightmare reached it. I wouldn't have thought the old gate any real match for its massive frame, but the rusted iron held against the horror's assault. The haze was also somehow kept at bay, not a single particle of the mysterious vapor breaching the bars despite how thickly it pressed upon it.
Before it could pull some trick or transform into something capable by bypassing the providentially sturdy gate, I turned away and ran back to my car. And while the creature didn't follow me, its hateful voice did.
"The heart! Bring back your heart!"
I drove away without looking back.
2023.06.02 02:03 WeirdBryceGuy The Deathgrounds of Love
Time had barely passed, the memory of her presence was still so fresh as to be palpable, when I entered the Deathgrounds of Love. For many, unrequited love diminishes before it can mount further and poison the heart. It fades as life goes on, and infatuations are forgotten; paramours become little more than half-remembered follies. But my love for her grew even as we drifted apart, even as her disdain for me blossomed into a multi-thorned and blackly petaled flower. Almost ironically it grew, until it finally manifested as a material, tangible thing: a heart, which came to beat with malignant autonomy upon a veiny stalk, in the midst of that graven place where unchecked love evilly flourishes.
Unguarded—at its gates, at least—were the grounds when I arrived, doubly delirious with grief and wonderment. I had not known of the place beforehand. It was only with the impossible manifestation of that heart, born of my anguish, that I became suddenly and providentially aware of the the graveyard and its unwholesome, reality-defying contents.
Despite what had occurred—and what apparently always occurs among the worm-riddled, blood-sodden soil—the place was not a garden; life found itself thriving there, yes, but not any life born of God's design. And death was chief above all, no matter how many vital organs beat ceaselessly from stalk to arterial stalk.
I entered ignorant of what I may find, beyond that which I had been drawn to upon waking suddenly earlier that morning. The outer grounds were rank with an earthy and coppery smell, like the dank, pulpy earth of a fresh battlefield. I got the impression that lives had been spent upon the grey soil, hundreds if not thousands of them; and yet there was only the dismal land, overhanged by a subtle atmosphere of mist, and environed by old trees. Beyond this mist I could just barely discern the inner plots; and I knew that therein I'd find my second heart.
Further in I progressed, until I entered that sepulchral garden, with its rows upon rows of vegetative hearts, sprouted with unsettling plumpness from the soil like overly ripe fruits. The audibility of their beating was maddening; it was as if thousands of people had been stripped of their flesh, leaving only their still-animate hearts. Even worse, they beat not in unison, but in horrible discordance - no two hearts held the same rhythm.
And yet somehow through the tachycardiac chaos I sensed my own - that is to say the heart to which I'd been tirelessly drawn.
Like an automaton I trudged on, my shoes sinking into the blood-laden soil; my sight blurred by the newly emergent haze of crimson. My mind befogged by the increasingly humid air.
With an automatic gentleness I pushed through the rows of unfamiliar hearts until I came upon my own. There it was, visually indistinct among the others, and yet I knew without a shred of doubt that it was mine. It pulsed with a steady rhythm, bleeding from its valves as if there were arteries to carry away the blood; a vascular system through which it could circulate. Despite the morbidity of it, I found it beautiful, as if it was something I'd searched for my entire life; some long-sought treasure of my nightly dreams.
So marveled was I, that I didn't notice the approach of the stranger. It wasn't until he had placed a hand on my shoulder that I became aware of him. I recoiled, but was kept from jumping back by the firmness of his gloved grip. He was a tall old man, dressed in a long grey overcoat, at the waist of which sat some kind of multi-pocketed workman's belt. There were several pouches affixed to the belt, and all bore black splotches of some unidentifiable substance. He wore what I assumed had once been black boots, but were now stained a deep crimson - undoubtedly from having spent innumerable hours trudging through the blood-rich soil.
His face was old and severe, with a blackly stained beard that trailed thinly down to his chest. His coal-black eyes met my own, and for a brief moment I felt as if was being pulled from my own body and examined in some outré, incorporeal pocket of space. A moment later, the phantasmal feeling passed, and the man released his iron grip on me.
"You've come for the heart, that it?"
I nodded, not yet able to form words; the shock of his appearance still fresh.
He grunted, and his voice reminded me of a dying animal I'd once seen on the road: harsh and guttural, defiant against pity and death. In his other hand he held a pair of garden shears, and with these he gestured towards the heart.
"Ye can have it, it's yers. But I'll have to take the one ye got in ye. An exchange. Don't fret about the pain. Ye won't feel it."
This proposition reigned in my mind from the state of fantastical acceptance it had gone to. Suddenly I became acutely, frighteningly aware that I was standing in a cemetery full of human hearts, all of which had somehow grown from the ground; and that this caretaker had actually offered to cut out mine in exchange for the one beating before me. It was ludicrous, macabre beyond measure.... and yet it was real.
"Ye should know: that in taking this here heart, you'll be happy, happier than you've ever been. But you'll forget the person you're longing for. They'll be wiped from yer memory. That's the price. Or the relief, depending."
The thought of a future without the nightly anguish of having lost her—made doubly terrible by the fact that it had been my fault—seemed almost too good to be true. But the idea of losing her completely, of having her smile erased from my memory, her voice lost to the mental void....it was inconceivable. To have loved and lost, and all that.
As much as it pained me to, I denied the man's bizarre offer.
His eyes narrowed, focusing on my chest - my heart. He pointed his empty hand at me and said, "Are ye sure? If left unchecked, it could kill ye. The grief. The sorrow. I've seen it, time and time again."
Had I not come to my senses about the utter weirdness of the situation, I probably wouldn't have noticed the almost imperceptible changes in his demeanor and posture. There was a yearning in his stance, a predatory hunger. Given the circumstances, it felt vampiric.
I backed away from him, again reiterating that I'd like to keep my heart, no matter what trouble it could cause me down the line. The stranger sighed, exhaling a visible cloud of what appeared to be black smoke or vapor.
"Too bad. I'm damn hungry."
That was the final kick my brain needed to fully recognize and piece together all the little clues laid around me. The soil, whilst predominantly a deep red, also held clumps of black matter in places - almost always near the beating hearts. This was plainly not mulch or any kind of gardening substance; the clumps were fleshy, some slick with what was obviously blackened blood. And that led me to two other points of observation: the man's belt, with its stained pouches, and his darkly stained beard - as if he'd been eating something that leaked black juices.
"Ah. You've put it together, have ye? No matter."
His eyes must've followed mine as I surveyed the scene before me. Still, the truth, the horrid reality, hadn't yet come to me.
"I eat the hearts given to me. Turned black they've been, in their grief. Fat, poisoned things. Only the most terminal are drawn to this place. Ye have a sick heart, and are better off without it. Serves ye no purpose to keep it. Why not let me eat it? Keeps me full, and keeps me own inklings towards love at bay. Stamps em down, so I never feel a thing. Never have to love, and lose. Never again..."
He seemed to mentally close upon himself for a moment, so I took the opportunity to begin my retreat. With much less care than before I pushed through the rows of hearts, heedless of how much damage I dealt to the organs and their repulsive stalks. Quickly I returned to that barren terrain before the plots, where the soil was a much more tolerable grey, and where the atmosphere was free of that delirious scarlet haze and its stifling humidity.
I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. Just as I did so, a shriek echoed into the night, and a voice full of mad demonic fury tore through the trees, sending the nesting birds skyward.
"Give me your fucking heart!"
I should've continued onward, the gate was only a few yards away; but the Satanic magnitude of the voice was irresistibly attention-grabbing. I felt compelled to see what kind of odious creature could've projected such anger, even though I'd seen the man just moments before.
The ground began to shake, and the withered trees trembled, loosing half-dead leaves onto the ground. And that awful scarlet haze came rolling over the boughs, deeply tinting the atmosphere as if it were a living thing. A sentient cloud of evil.
And from amidst the malignant haze came a thing that might have once been a man, but had undergone a transformation so repugnantly profound that any remaining elements of humanity appeared as mockeries of the form. It towered above the feeble trees, even using their tops as points of stability as it lurched toward me. It's body was vaguely anthropomorphic, distantly human, but outwardly fish-like; the flesh of some selachian nightmare draped over the skeleton of a man.
A face, contorted abhorrently to fit an angular, newly mutated skull, bared a broad maw at me. The teeth shone like an assassin's daggers in the night, sending chills throughout my body. Even as it cleared the tree line and revealed itself fully to me, I could not move: I was so completely transfixed by the depravity of its body, by the unreality of its existence.
"Ye could've given me your heart, and all would've been well. But now...now you've gone and made me take off me coat. I don't like to take off me coat. I don't like having to work for me food. I'm all out of it, and I won't let the thoughts of love come back to me. I won't allow it. Now, c'mere and let me pull you apart."
Despite his hideous transformation, his voice was largely unchanged. Just deeper, more guttural, his ire made plain. The lack of any overt monstrous intonation only made the only whole ordeal more terrifying.
Wrenching control away from the panicked part of my mind, I forced my body to turn and move towards the gate. The thing bounded after me like some frenzied animal, shaking the ground with its every step. I pumped my legs to their absolute limits, reaching the gate just as the humidity of the haze tickled the back of my neck.
I threw it open, leapt through, and slammed it just as that colossal nightmare reached it. I wouldn't have thought the old gate any real match for its massive frame, but the rusted iron held against the horror's assault. The haze was also somehow kept at bay, not a single particle of the mysterious vapor breaching the bars despite how thickly it pressed upon it.
Before it could pull some trick or transform into something capable by bypassing the providentially sturdy gate, I turned away and ran back to my car. And while the creature didn't follow me, its hateful voice did.
"The heart! Bring back your heart!"
I drove away without looking back.
submitted by WeirdBryceGuy to TheCrypticCompendium [link] [comments]
Unguarded—at its gates, at least—were the grounds when I arrived, doubly delirious with grief and wonderment. I had not known of the place beforehand. It was only with the impossible manifestation of that heart, born of my anguish, that I became suddenly and providentially aware of the the graveyard and its unwholesome, reality-defying contents.
Despite what had occurred—and what apparently always occurs among the worm-riddled, blood-sodden soil—the place was not a garden; life found itself thriving there, yes, but not any life born of God's design. And death was chief above all, no matter how many vital organs beat ceaselessly from stalk to arterial stalk.
I entered ignorant of what I may find, beyond that which I had been drawn to upon waking suddenly earlier that morning. The outer grounds were rank with an earthy and coppery smell, like the dank, pulpy earth of a fresh battlefield. I got the impression that lives had been spent upon the grey soil, hundreds if not thousands of them; and yet there was only the dismal land, overhanged by a subtle atmosphere of mist, and environed by old trees. Beyond this mist I could just barely discern the inner plots; and I knew that therein I'd find my second heart.
Further in I progressed, until I entered that sepulchral garden, with its rows upon rows of vegetative hearts, sprouted with unsettling plumpness from the soil like overly ripe fruits. The audibility of their beating was maddening; it was as if thousands of people had been stripped of their flesh, leaving only their still-animate hearts. Even worse, they beat not in unison, but in horrible discordance - no two hearts held the same rhythm.
And yet somehow through the tachycardiac chaos I sensed my own - that is to say the heart to which I'd been tirelessly drawn.
Like an automaton I trudged on, my shoes sinking into the blood-laden soil; my sight blurred by the newly emergent haze of crimson. My mind befogged by the increasingly humid air.
With an automatic gentleness I pushed through the rows of unfamiliar hearts until I came upon my own. There it was, visually indistinct among the others, and yet I knew without a shred of doubt that it was mine. It pulsed with a steady rhythm, bleeding from its valves as if there were arteries to carry away the blood; a vascular system through which it could circulate. Despite the morbidity of it, I found it beautiful, as if it was something I'd searched for my entire life; some long-sought treasure of my nightly dreams.
So marveled was I, that I didn't notice the approach of the stranger. It wasn't until he had placed a hand on my shoulder that I became aware of him. I recoiled, but was kept from jumping back by the firmness of his gloved grip. He was a tall old man, dressed in a long grey overcoat, at the waist of which sat some kind of multi-pocketed workman's belt. There were several pouches affixed to the belt, and all bore black splotches of some unidentifiable substance. He wore what I assumed had once been black boots, but were now stained a deep crimson - undoubtedly from having spent innumerable hours trudging through the blood-rich soil.
His face was old and severe, with a blackly stained beard that trailed thinly down to his chest. His coal-black eyes met my own, and for a brief moment I felt as if was being pulled from my own body and examined in some outré, incorporeal pocket of space. A moment later, the phantasmal feeling passed, and the man released his iron grip on me.
"You've come for the heart, that it?"
I nodded, not yet able to form words; the shock of his appearance still fresh.
He grunted, and his voice reminded me of a dying animal I'd once seen on the road: harsh and guttural, defiant against pity and death. In his other hand he held a pair of garden shears, and with these he gestured towards the heart.
"Ye can have it, it's yers. But I'll have to take the one ye got in ye. An exchange. Don't fret about the pain. Ye won't feel it."
This proposition reigned in my mind from the state of fantastical acceptance it had gone to. Suddenly I became acutely, frighteningly aware that I was standing in a cemetery full of human hearts, all of which had somehow grown from the ground; and that this caretaker had actually offered to cut out mine in exchange for the one beating before me. It was ludicrous, macabre beyond measure.... and yet it was real.
"Ye should know: that in taking this here heart, you'll be happy, happier than you've ever been. But you'll forget the person you're longing for. They'll be wiped from yer memory. That's the price. Or the relief, depending."
The thought of a future without the nightly anguish of having lost her—made doubly terrible by the fact that it had been my fault—seemed almost too good to be true. But the idea of losing her completely, of having her smile erased from my memory, her voice lost to the mental void....it was inconceivable. To have loved and lost, and all that.
As much as it pained me to, I denied the man's bizarre offer.
His eyes narrowed, focusing on my chest - my heart. He pointed his empty hand at me and said, "Are ye sure? If left unchecked, it could kill ye. The grief. The sorrow. I've seen it, time and time again."
Had I not come to my senses about the utter weirdness of the situation, I probably wouldn't have noticed the almost imperceptible changes in his demeanor and posture. There was a yearning in his stance, a predatory hunger. Given the circumstances, it felt vampiric.
I backed away from him, again reiterating that I'd like to keep my heart, no matter what trouble it could cause me down the line. The stranger sighed, exhaling a visible cloud of what appeared to be black smoke or vapor.
"Too bad. I'm damn hungry."
That was the final kick my brain needed to fully recognize and piece together all the little clues laid around me. The soil, whilst predominantly a deep red, also held clumps of black matter in places - almost always near the beating hearts. This was plainly not mulch or any kind of gardening substance; the clumps were fleshy, some slick with what was obviously blackened blood. And that led me to two other points of observation: the man's belt, with its stained pouches, and his darkly stained beard - as if he'd been eating something that leaked black juices.
"Ah. You've put it together, have ye? No matter."
His eyes must've followed mine as I surveyed the scene before me. Still, the truth, the horrid reality, hadn't yet come to me.
"I eat the hearts given to me. Turned black they've been, in their grief. Fat, poisoned things. Only the most terminal are drawn to this place. Ye have a sick heart, and are better off without it. Serves ye no purpose to keep it. Why not let me eat it? Keeps me full, and keeps me own inklings towards love at bay. Stamps em down, so I never feel a thing. Never have to love, and lose. Never again..."
He seemed to mentally close upon himself for a moment, so I took the opportunity to begin my retreat. With much less care than before I pushed through the rows of hearts, heedless of how much damage I dealt to the organs and their repulsive stalks. Quickly I returned to that barren terrain before the plots, where the soil was a much more tolerable grey, and where the atmosphere was free of that delirious scarlet haze and its stifling humidity.
I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. Just as I did so, a shriek echoed into the night, and a voice full of mad demonic fury tore through the trees, sending the nesting birds skyward.
"Give me your fucking heart!"
I should've continued onward, the gate was only a few yards away; but the Satanic magnitude of the voice was irresistibly attention-grabbing. I felt compelled to see what kind of odious creature could've projected such anger, even though I'd seen the man just moments before.
The ground began to shake, and the withered trees trembled, loosing half-dead leaves onto the ground. And that awful scarlet haze came rolling over the boughs, deeply tinting the atmosphere as if it were a living thing. A sentient cloud of evil.
And from amidst the malignant haze came a thing that might have once been a man, but had undergone a transformation so repugnantly profound that any remaining elements of humanity appeared as mockeries of the form. It towered above the feeble trees, even using their tops as points of stability as it lurched toward me. It's body was vaguely anthropomorphic, distantly human, but outwardly fish-like; the flesh of some selachian nightmare draped over the skeleton of a man.
A face, contorted abhorrently to fit an angular, newly mutated skull, bared a broad maw at me. The teeth shone like an assassin's daggers in the night, sending chills throughout my body. Even as it cleared the tree line and revealed itself fully to me, I could not move: I was so completely transfixed by the depravity of its body, by the unreality of its existence.
"Ye could've given me your heart, and all would've been well. But now...now you've gone and made me take off me coat. I don't like to take off me coat. I don't like having to work for me food. I'm all out of it, and I won't let the thoughts of love come back to me. I won't allow it. Now, c'mere and let me pull you apart."
Despite his hideous transformation, his voice was largely unchanged. Just deeper, more guttural, his ire made plain. The lack of any overt monstrous intonation only made the only whole ordeal more terrifying.
Wrenching control away from the panicked part of my mind, I forced my body to turn and move towards the gate. The thing bounded after me like some frenzied animal, shaking the ground with its every step. I pumped my legs to their absolute limits, reaching the gate just as the humidity of the haze tickled the back of my neck.
I threw it open, leapt through, and slammed it just as that colossal nightmare reached it. I wouldn't have thought the old gate any real match for its massive frame, but the rusted iron held against the horror's assault. The haze was also somehow kept at bay, not a single particle of the mysterious vapor breaching the bars despite how thickly it pressed upon it.
Before it could pull some trick or transform into something capable by bypassing the providentially sturdy gate, I turned away and ran back to my car. And while the creature didn't follow me, its hateful voice did.
"The heart! Bring back your heart!"
I drove away without looking back.
2023.06.02 00:31 francojaffre I installed more RAM, but task manager still shows the old amount.
 | I was running 8 GB of RAM. Due to it was not enough and I have a previous RAM of 4 GB I decided to install it. Now when I open task manager, it shows 8 GB on the graphic instead of 12 GB. Any help with this? submitted by francojaffre to pcmasterrace [link] [comments] https://preview.redd.it/0wy5z0xjgh3b1.png?width=1920&format=png&auto=webp&s=b533bfaa68ecc94af44b29f7c9775e70991d37d0 https://preview.redd.it/4ouf9gvlgh3b1.png?width=786&format=png&auto=webp&s=a18ab54c0e08a52f2fe0e7964e19851a5069150e |
2023.06.01 23:34 KeysOfWanda Mary Eve (Louisville, Kentucky 1992 - unidentified decedent)
This was a case mentioned on the Wikipedia article for "List of unidentitified murder victims" which Wikipedia assholefucks deleted, and which there is virtually no documentation anywhere else on the Internet. I think this is the text that was on Wikipedia:
I can find several articles from the Courier-Journal archives on newspapers.com referencing "Mary Eve" from January 1993 that I can not access because they are behind a paywall. But a reddit user apparently posted the contents of one of them a few years ago.
This case is of interest to me because I have family in the Louisville area who I used to visit fairly often who lived near Shelbyville Road. The shopping center mentioned in the article, Oxmoor Center, sounds very familiar, I think I may have been there once years ago. Clearly this happened in the area of Louisville where my relatives live.
Has anyone tried to find out more on this? With all the old cases being solved recently due to genetic genealogy (some of which I was thinking would never be solved) I was hoping to hear this one was too, but as long as nobody remembers it and virtual all traces or mentions are gone, nobody will even bother trying to solve this one.
submitted by KeysOfWanda to coldcases [link] [comments]
On Christmas Eve 1992 the body of a female infant of possibly mixed race was found in a trash bag in the employee parking lot of oxmoor centre on Shelbyville road in louisville, the mother was never found.https://www.facebook.com/WhoAreYouDoe0/photos/a.122124372580573/194849028641440/?paipv=0&eav=Afatxd-7UHzsafqufkqGepJanunZrMbIFvHjyDzU5e0S8o4cg9S--DtYiUCxki25tbo&\_rdr
I can find several articles from the Courier-Journal archives on newspapers.com referencing "Mary Eve" from January 1993 that I can not access because they are behind a paywall. But a reddit user apparently posted the contents of one of them a few years ago.
“Story, Page B 1 .5 The mother of the newborn found dead on Christmas Eve "can take comfort in knowing she's our little girl, and we'll take care of her." More than 40 people attended Mary Eve's funeral. Theresa Adams and her husband, James, who arranged for the burial, wept yesterday at the cemetery. Jefferson County coroner, said yesterday that the child had been born healthy and died, probably from cold or suffocation, before being struck by one or more cars. Yesterday police questioned a woman after getting her name from a tipster, but she is not the baby's mother, Louisville police Lt. Gene Sherrard said. They'll continue to pursue every lead, he said. But mourners at the funeral, though curious about the parents, were more concerned with giving Mary Eve a decent burial. Theresa Adams, of Fairdale, said everyone at the service felt a connection to Mary Eve. "Her mother can take comfort in knowing she's our little girl, and well take care of her," she said. See BABY Page 5, col. 1, Family of strangers puts abandoned baby to rest. Some people brought flowers, and a dark-haired woman placed a teddy bear near the tiny, closed bubble casket. The infant who had been found dead Christmas Eve in an Oxmoor Center parking lot, naked but for a plastic trash bag, prompted a police search for the person who put her there. It seemed that no one would claim her. But the 7-pound newborn, named Mary Eve after her death, was surrounded by mourners yesterday at Bethany Memorial Cemetery in Jefferson County, Ky. More than 40 strangers gathered to say goodbye. They'd never seen her, but for this day at least, they were her family. "She became our little girl today," said Theresa Adams, who with her husband, James, arranged for the burial.”https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/9o5j0f/kentucky\_unsolved/
This case is of interest to me because I have family in the Louisville area who I used to visit fairly often who lived near Shelbyville Road. The shopping center mentioned in the article, Oxmoor Center, sounds very familiar, I think I may have been there once years ago. Clearly this happened in the area of Louisville where my relatives live.
Has anyone tried to find out more on this? With all the old cases being solved recently due to genetic genealogy (some of which I was thinking would never be solved) I was hoping to hear this one was too, but as long as nobody remembers it and virtual all traces or mentions are gone, nobody will even bother trying to solve this one.
2023.06.01 21:40 Xzenergy Cube [Chapter 4]
Sleep was a respite only in the way it separated the past from the new. A fresh start each day meant something different. You had survived and were still providing, still waking up everyday, optical lens’ able to catch the light of whatever star you labored underneath.
Gareth knew something was being lost. A call from the chambers of his sleeping physical brain, the hidden gods and their infinite creativity caged behind a synthetic wash of sedatives, used to keep the outer realms of consciousness at bay.
He was thinking of lost dreams, trying to remember the night terrors he had as an adolescent, shrieking to the dark wind at something he now couldn’t picture.
“Are you hearing me? They want you to absorb thirty-five percent of losses, covering just the gloves alone. What the fuck were you thinking Gareth?” Eris tapped elegant mechanical hands folded upon the jet black steel table between them.
Gareth looked up, “I was thinking about the narrative. I was trying to find the time.”
“Oh bullshit,” Eris scoffed, “Triarch will be coming through those doors in twelve minutes and thirty-seven seconds, they left me unbriefed.”
Gareth’s glove was still as he sat and tried to ignore Eris. If they wanted him off the restoration sector, then fine. By all means. He would be happy to operate anywhere else. Even containment and corrections were beginning to look bright.
Silence descended between them as they waited for their superiors to arrive, worry twisting their stomachs. Eris was tapping a weathered spot on the back of his right hand, something he always did when he was nervous. Gareth had worked with him for over a century and it was a habit that had never changed. The sound resonated with some part of his stimulant addled brain.
“What was in it, anyways?” Eris finally asked.
Gareth shook his head, “I don’t know, it’s sitting in my laboratory. Mostly data from the airbase we’re passing over.”
Gareth wondered if the LIDAR scans had been completed. There was also the secured safe, which was sitting in his lab. Awaiting his dissection.
Eris shook his head and huffed, “so all this for pretty much–nothing? Fantastic.”
The entrance chimed and Eris stood to attention as a team of deadly looking security gloves guided a smaller administration official into the wide, low chamber.
The one called the Triarch.
The security team dispersed to the corners and entrances of the room and the affluent looking Triarch took his seat. The glove he wore was refined and set him apart from the others, just as it was intended to do. Hand pitted copper inlays and traces of gold glinted in the low lighting of the meeting chamber.
“Eris, please.” Triarch motioned towards the middle edge of the table, where a seat had already manifested from the floor.
“Of course, thank you.” Eris sat, the small nervous tapping of his hand just under the awareness of the rest.
Triarch’s optics focused on Gareth, “this isn’t the first time we’ve met.”
“It is not.” Gareth replied.
“I believe our last meeting was in regards to workplace safety. It feels as if we’re repeating ourselves. Eating our own tail.” Triarch placed both hands flat on top of the table.
“The added layer of chemical security was unexpected, the first time I’ve ever encountered such a modification. Tetrahyrdolytic-M88, a substance used in arc fusion reactors to keep the inside of the reactor free from molecular impurities. This is the first time I’ve seen it used outside of its intended application, if I’m to be honest.”
Triarch’s head twitched to the side, “this is something that would have been discovered, had the proper safety protocols been followed.”
Gareth had no reply. It was unambiguous, he was right as right could be. If they had tapped the outer seal, it would have registered and they could have proceeded in a different manner. Trigam’s way.
A safer way.
“You’ve been behaving as if our resources are infinite,” Triarch began, spreading his hands, “thirteen engineers, the cost of refacing and repairing the research bay, and the resignation of another one of your assistants. All for some comparable data. Where does it end?”
Gareth looked up, meeting Triarch’s opticals, “research requires sacrifice. The advances towards the narrative demand risks and I feel I’ve uncovered a relevant datagem from the airfield we are currently moving through.”
Triarch shook their head, “there are few datagems in our work worth the cost of the damage done today. The war here has already been lost, Yok Theron doesn’t care for the corpuscant he leaves behind. We are in a war, Gareth, that’s the reason we’re out here. To rebuild that which was lost, because we can’t afford to lose more. You’ve been through a lot of gloves, but younger inexperienced workers don’t have the same luxury. There’s a psychological impact, as well as monetary.”
Gareth conceded, “you’re right. I understand, my lack of discipline has been bothering me lately. Eris has given me direction and I will seek further counsel.”
The many lenses on Triarch’s face seemed to focus, “see that it’s done, archeotech. Your debt to the guard is beginning to cast a shadow.”
Triarch stood without warning and collapsed into the middle of his security, as they folded out of the dark door and were out of sight and mind. All meetings were like this, simple and as fast as possible.
“God almighty-,” Eris gasped.
Gareth sat, motionless.
Eris moved from the side of the table to the seat across, as he had been sitting before, “are you in this room? Did you hear what he just said?”
“I’m at the end of my rod, I heard him.”
Eris folded his hands, screeching metal sounding, “as your liaison, I need you to listen to me very carefully, Gareth. You need to focus, for fuck’s sake. Please, I beg of you.”
Gareth glanced down at the orange plastic covering his arms, sleek and dense. He could feel the anger flush through him, his actual skin rippling with heat and potential. So far away, but instant all the same.
“Leave me to my work, I’ll stay down. I promise.”
“Stay in your lab, at least for the next forty-eight hours. As soon as things calm, we can re-task and discuss where we’re at. Does that sound simple and doable, at all, to you?” Eris stood.
“Simple, totally doable.”
“Thank you-,” Eris moved to leave the meeting chamber, walking as if he were surrounded by broken glass, “I’ll catch back up with you in two days.”
Eris turned and exited the opposite door, a wave of air rushing out and away as it whooshed closed.
Gareth sat there for a while, unmoving. There was a small silver fleck of imperfection on the surface of the table and he was focused on it, his mind far away in a place where the pressures of life fell away like a cocoon, the blossom of worry and pain distant and stale.
“Sample D-1 seated and currently awaiting instruction.” Rube’s voice ripped him from the depths he was falling into.
“Initial analyses?” Gareth asked, standing and leaving the dim chamber.
“Grade composition of container: Pb, heavy lead shielding. Weight: 77kg-”.
“Please move the test article to hazard bay 443, I’ll be up shortly.”
Gareth walked through the massive inner structure of the Cube, making his way towards the MOL-44 printers. There would be a printer in the back left, just finishing a small ceramic urn full of ashes. He plucked the perfect white urn from the printing plate and left the upper sectors, making his way down to the bottom of the Cube.
It took two levicors and a small escalating platform, the journey to the usual outer seal he used was long and winding, taking him through the inner bays in a zig-zag pattern. The more random his habits, the more control he felt over his life. When everything was synchronized, unplanned deviation gave a sort of rush. A rush that washed away the sour taste of the meeting he had just sat through.
“Your debts are beginning to cast a shadow.”
Shadows were the result of light and he felt no brightness within. It was all darkness, no definition any longer to navigate.
Focus on the narrative, he thought to himself.
The pain he endured paled in comparison to what these people must have experienced in their final days or hours. The sky ablaze, nuclear death raining down, more bodies than flies. Oceans boiled, the atmosphere sheared off.
The echoes of his wails were nothing against the hurricane.
Gareth had finally reached the bottom level and could see the outer access door still a ways away, lit by a blue runner from above. He glanced down at the small ivory urn, making sure it was still intact. When he looked back up, there was someone standing in front of him, silhouetted in the dark.
Trigam’s voice called out through the cloud, “what do you do out there?”
He was a couple meters away, optics glinting in the low blue light.
Gareth stopped, his heart rate spiking, “what are you doing down here?”
Trigam spread his dark metallic hands and sauntered forward, “making sure you don’t wander off and have an accident. What else?”
Gareth tried to ping Rube, but his local gateway was blocked.
“What’s so important outside, that you would throw away a MK-V research glove? Like it’s scrap.”
Gareth started backing up and bumped into a solid plate of metal. He had walked past two gloves pressed against the walls like waiting vipers uncoiled, both wearing Atlas exoframes normally used in mining and heavy labor. They grabbed him by his arms and legs and raised him up, so that his feet were just off the floor. The sound of squealing and crunching metal and plastic echoed down the dark walkway.
“c15,000, c20,000? What is it? It’s more than MK-III engineers, I know that much.”
Gareth strained against the hold he was in, his small white urn shattering under the struggle. Ash and ceramic shards fell to the floor unnoticed.
“So what is it? Why do you walk out there?” Trigam asked, the angular build of his glove’s face inches away from Gareth’s.
Trigam didn’t allow him to answer, instead he rammed a charged copper spike into the side of Gareth’s neural controller, just inside his breastplate, sending waves of pressurized spasms through his glove and into his body, back in the seed tank billions of miles away. Gareth screamed, but his agony was scattered by the network jammer currently enveloping the small group.
“Everyone said you were brilliant, eccentric. Working with you was something like rediscovering yourself,” Trigam laughed, “I was your slave for eight months and now I’m considering joining Yok.”
Trigam depressed a small switch and the pain spike went dead.
Gareth gasped for air through the feeling of being unwinded, his head spinning and his rage turned ashen and to despair.
“We can’t afford our own debt and we won’t take on yours.”
A short silence fell between them, before Gareth’s legs and right arm were pulled and ripped away from his body. Sparks and caustic hydraulic fluid sprayed in a wide arc, covering the shifting metal of the interior walls.
“Loss is part of the process,” Gareth sighed, “but I wouldn’t expect you to understand that. You never were very good at understanding that.”
Trigam smeared the clear oil along Gareth’s cheek, “you would be the expert of loss as well. Your bitch died and now you try to follow her, but Aetherguard will never let you die. You’re too special to them.”
The Atlas exosuits chomped down into the floor as the two holding Gareth started forward and hauled him towards the access door.
“It’s ten hours until sunrise, I hope you enjoy the little bit of leisure time we’ve bought you.” Trigam said, the access door whooshing open next to him and revealing the pitch dark howling night.
Gareth was tossed, like a dead battery, out into the ivory sand, tumbling end over end as he fell thirteen meters to the ground. The impact jittered his sensor core and his optics began an automatic reset, showing him the massive shifting wall of the Cube upon coming back online. He would give anything to close his eyes, but the pitch black was as close as he would get.
Every actuating joint and stabilizing core was damaged in the assault and now his entire glove vibrated in a kind of mechanical desynchronization. He hoped it would shake itself to pieces before he had to wait the agonizing hours for the star to rise over Kine’s horizon and cook him. The sooner he could get back and report this to Eris, the better his rage would be soothed.
Or so he hoped.
He still had slight control of the right arm they had left him and so he used it to push himself onto his back, face up and exposed to the sky above. His infrared lens gave the cosmos an ethereal shade, so much more to witness when looking outside the normal range. The sight of it all turned his awe to bitterness and guilt at the reminder of the casting away of his physical flesh. Not so much a loss, but a disconnection, controlled and bound by the numbers sworn fealty to as a neophyte. The end result was a sight so magnificent and so replicated it morphed into remorse.
“Rube?”
No answer came, they had damaged his communication module as well it seemed. He was on his own in the desert. He could already see the small search drones, their thermals scanning the glowing sand, looking for an imperfection in a backdrop of white.
When he looked down, the sand tinkled and blazed with the same astigmatism as in the small desk art piece, in Eris’ office. He looked and realized the sand wasn’t crushed silicate, but tiny individual diatomaceous shells, heaped by the trillions. He magnified and marveled at the radiating mass grave of microscopic animals. There was something about this last rape in the environmental brief, but the fact seemed to have slipped away, lost in a trillion other details of calamity.
North was a ridgeline rising out of the dunes, he could try to climb that and then throw himself off when he reached a sufficient height. Perhaps he could cut a few hours off of the current timeline, get back to the Cube and wring necks. The plastics and soft materials of his glove had all already sloughed off, leaving him a mechanical shell crawling across the wasteland, one arm dragging himself along.
Perhaps this was what it felt like, a fraction of the narrative’s suffering.
His neural core was pulsing, the flash of agony on the back of his subconscious reminding him he could feel at all.
He knew it would only be a fraction of what Trigam and his thugs would endure.
submitted by Xzenergy to HFY [link] [comments]
Gareth knew something was being lost. A call from the chambers of his sleeping physical brain, the hidden gods and their infinite creativity caged behind a synthetic wash of sedatives, used to keep the outer realms of consciousness at bay.
He was thinking of lost dreams, trying to remember the night terrors he had as an adolescent, shrieking to the dark wind at something he now couldn’t picture.
“Are you hearing me? They want you to absorb thirty-five percent of losses, covering just the gloves alone. What the fuck were you thinking Gareth?” Eris tapped elegant mechanical hands folded upon the jet black steel table between them.
Gareth looked up, “I was thinking about the narrative. I was trying to find the time.”
“Oh bullshit,” Eris scoffed, “Triarch will be coming through those doors in twelve minutes and thirty-seven seconds, they left me unbriefed.”
Gareth’s glove was still as he sat and tried to ignore Eris. If they wanted him off the restoration sector, then fine. By all means. He would be happy to operate anywhere else. Even containment and corrections were beginning to look bright.
Silence descended between them as they waited for their superiors to arrive, worry twisting their stomachs. Eris was tapping a weathered spot on the back of his right hand, something he always did when he was nervous. Gareth had worked with him for over a century and it was a habit that had never changed. The sound resonated with some part of his stimulant addled brain.
“What was in it, anyways?” Eris finally asked.
Gareth shook his head, “I don’t know, it’s sitting in my laboratory. Mostly data from the airbase we’re passing over.”
Gareth wondered if the LIDAR scans had been completed. There was also the secured safe, which was sitting in his lab. Awaiting his dissection.
Eris shook his head and huffed, “so all this for pretty much–nothing? Fantastic.”
The entrance chimed and Eris stood to attention as a team of deadly looking security gloves guided a smaller administration official into the wide, low chamber.
The one called the Triarch.
The security team dispersed to the corners and entrances of the room and the affluent looking Triarch took his seat. The glove he wore was refined and set him apart from the others, just as it was intended to do. Hand pitted copper inlays and traces of gold glinted in the low lighting of the meeting chamber.
“Eris, please.” Triarch motioned towards the middle edge of the table, where a seat had already manifested from the floor.
“Of course, thank you.” Eris sat, the small nervous tapping of his hand just under the awareness of the rest.
Triarch’s optics focused on Gareth, “this isn’t the first time we’ve met.”
“It is not.” Gareth replied.
“I believe our last meeting was in regards to workplace safety. It feels as if we’re repeating ourselves. Eating our own tail.” Triarch placed both hands flat on top of the table.
“The added layer of chemical security was unexpected, the first time I’ve ever encountered such a modification. Tetrahyrdolytic-M88, a substance used in arc fusion reactors to keep the inside of the reactor free from molecular impurities. This is the first time I’ve seen it used outside of its intended application, if I’m to be honest.”
Triarch’s head twitched to the side, “this is something that would have been discovered, had the proper safety protocols been followed.”
Gareth had no reply. It was unambiguous, he was right as right could be. If they had tapped the outer seal, it would have registered and they could have proceeded in a different manner. Trigam’s way.
A safer way.
“You’ve been behaving as if our resources are infinite,” Triarch began, spreading his hands, “thirteen engineers, the cost of refacing and repairing the research bay, and the resignation of another one of your assistants. All for some comparable data. Where does it end?”
Gareth looked up, meeting Triarch’s opticals, “research requires sacrifice. The advances towards the narrative demand risks and I feel I’ve uncovered a relevant datagem from the airfield we are currently moving through.”
Triarch shook their head, “there are few datagems in our work worth the cost of the damage done today. The war here has already been lost, Yok Theron doesn’t care for the corpuscant he leaves behind. We are in a war, Gareth, that’s the reason we’re out here. To rebuild that which was lost, because we can’t afford to lose more. You’ve been through a lot of gloves, but younger inexperienced workers don’t have the same luxury. There’s a psychological impact, as well as monetary.”
Gareth conceded, “you’re right. I understand, my lack of discipline has been bothering me lately. Eris has given me direction and I will seek further counsel.”
The many lenses on Triarch’s face seemed to focus, “see that it’s done, archeotech. Your debt to the guard is beginning to cast a shadow.”
Triarch stood without warning and collapsed into the middle of his security, as they folded out of the dark door and were out of sight and mind. All meetings were like this, simple and as fast as possible.
“God almighty-,” Eris gasped.
Gareth sat, motionless.
Eris moved from the side of the table to the seat across, as he had been sitting before, “are you in this room? Did you hear what he just said?”
“I’m at the end of my rod, I heard him.”
Eris folded his hands, screeching metal sounding, “as your liaison, I need you to listen to me very carefully, Gareth. You need to focus, for fuck’s sake. Please, I beg of you.”
Gareth glanced down at the orange plastic covering his arms, sleek and dense. He could feel the anger flush through him, his actual skin rippling with heat and potential. So far away, but instant all the same.
“Leave me to my work, I’ll stay down. I promise.”
“Stay in your lab, at least for the next forty-eight hours. As soon as things calm, we can re-task and discuss where we’re at. Does that sound simple and doable, at all, to you?” Eris stood.
“Simple, totally doable.”
“Thank you-,” Eris moved to leave the meeting chamber, walking as if he were surrounded by broken glass, “I’ll catch back up with you in two days.”
Eris turned and exited the opposite door, a wave of air rushing out and away as it whooshed closed.
Gareth sat there for a while, unmoving. There was a small silver fleck of imperfection on the surface of the table and he was focused on it, his mind far away in a place where the pressures of life fell away like a cocoon, the blossom of worry and pain distant and stale.
“Sample D-1 seated and currently awaiting instruction.” Rube’s voice ripped him from the depths he was falling into.
“Initial analyses?” Gareth asked, standing and leaving the dim chamber.
“Grade composition of container: Pb, heavy lead shielding. Weight: 77kg-”.
“Please move the test article to hazard bay 443, I’ll be up shortly.”
Gareth walked through the massive inner structure of the Cube, making his way towards the MOL-44 printers. There would be a printer in the back left, just finishing a small ceramic urn full of ashes. He plucked the perfect white urn from the printing plate and left the upper sectors, making his way down to the bottom of the Cube.
It took two levicors and a small escalating platform, the journey to the usual outer seal he used was long and winding, taking him through the inner bays in a zig-zag pattern. The more random his habits, the more control he felt over his life. When everything was synchronized, unplanned deviation gave a sort of rush. A rush that washed away the sour taste of the meeting he had just sat through.
“Your debts are beginning to cast a shadow.”
Shadows were the result of light and he felt no brightness within. It was all darkness, no definition any longer to navigate.
Focus on the narrative, he thought to himself.
The pain he endured paled in comparison to what these people must have experienced in their final days or hours. The sky ablaze, nuclear death raining down, more bodies than flies. Oceans boiled, the atmosphere sheared off.
The echoes of his wails were nothing against the hurricane.
Gareth had finally reached the bottom level and could see the outer access door still a ways away, lit by a blue runner from above. He glanced down at the small ivory urn, making sure it was still intact. When he looked back up, there was someone standing in front of him, silhouetted in the dark.
Trigam’s voice called out through the cloud, “what do you do out there?”
He was a couple meters away, optics glinting in the low blue light.
Gareth stopped, his heart rate spiking, “what are you doing down here?”
Trigam spread his dark metallic hands and sauntered forward, “making sure you don’t wander off and have an accident. What else?”
Gareth tried to ping Rube, but his local gateway was blocked.
“What’s so important outside, that you would throw away a MK-V research glove? Like it’s scrap.”
Gareth started backing up and bumped into a solid plate of metal. He had walked past two gloves pressed against the walls like waiting vipers uncoiled, both wearing Atlas exoframes normally used in mining and heavy labor. They grabbed him by his arms and legs and raised him up, so that his feet were just off the floor. The sound of squealing and crunching metal and plastic echoed down the dark walkway.
“c15,000, c20,000? What is it? It’s more than MK-III engineers, I know that much.”
Gareth strained against the hold he was in, his small white urn shattering under the struggle. Ash and ceramic shards fell to the floor unnoticed.
“So what is it? Why do you walk out there?” Trigam asked, the angular build of his glove’s face inches away from Gareth’s.
Trigam didn’t allow him to answer, instead he rammed a charged copper spike into the side of Gareth’s neural controller, just inside his breastplate, sending waves of pressurized spasms through his glove and into his body, back in the seed tank billions of miles away. Gareth screamed, but his agony was scattered by the network jammer currently enveloping the small group.
“Everyone said you were brilliant, eccentric. Working with you was something like rediscovering yourself,” Trigam laughed, “I was your slave for eight months and now I’m considering joining Yok.”
Trigam depressed a small switch and the pain spike went dead.
Gareth gasped for air through the feeling of being unwinded, his head spinning and his rage turned ashen and to despair.
“We can’t afford our own debt and we won’t take on yours.”
A short silence fell between them, before Gareth’s legs and right arm were pulled and ripped away from his body. Sparks and caustic hydraulic fluid sprayed in a wide arc, covering the shifting metal of the interior walls.
“Loss is part of the process,” Gareth sighed, “but I wouldn’t expect you to understand that. You never were very good at understanding that.”
Trigam smeared the clear oil along Gareth’s cheek, “you would be the expert of loss as well. Your bitch died and now you try to follow her, but Aetherguard will never let you die. You’re too special to them.”
The Atlas exosuits chomped down into the floor as the two holding Gareth started forward and hauled him towards the access door.
“It’s ten hours until sunrise, I hope you enjoy the little bit of leisure time we’ve bought you.” Trigam said, the access door whooshing open next to him and revealing the pitch dark howling night.
Gareth was tossed, like a dead battery, out into the ivory sand, tumbling end over end as he fell thirteen meters to the ground. The impact jittered his sensor core and his optics began an automatic reset, showing him the massive shifting wall of the Cube upon coming back online. He would give anything to close his eyes, but the pitch black was as close as he would get.
Every actuating joint and stabilizing core was damaged in the assault and now his entire glove vibrated in a kind of mechanical desynchronization. He hoped it would shake itself to pieces before he had to wait the agonizing hours for the star to rise over Kine’s horizon and cook him. The sooner he could get back and report this to Eris, the better his rage would be soothed.
Or so he hoped.
He still had slight control of the right arm they had left him and so he used it to push himself onto his back, face up and exposed to the sky above. His infrared lens gave the cosmos an ethereal shade, so much more to witness when looking outside the normal range. The sight of it all turned his awe to bitterness and guilt at the reminder of the casting away of his physical flesh. Not so much a loss, but a disconnection, controlled and bound by the numbers sworn fealty to as a neophyte. The end result was a sight so magnificent and so replicated it morphed into remorse.
“Rube?”
No answer came, they had damaged his communication module as well it seemed. He was on his own in the desert. He could already see the small search drones, their thermals scanning the glowing sand, looking for an imperfection in a backdrop of white.
When he looked down, the sand tinkled and blazed with the same astigmatism as in the small desk art piece, in Eris’ office. He looked and realized the sand wasn’t crushed silicate, but tiny individual diatomaceous shells, heaped by the trillions. He magnified and marveled at the radiating mass grave of microscopic animals. There was something about this last rape in the environmental brief, but the fact seemed to have slipped away, lost in a trillion other details of calamity.
North was a ridgeline rising out of the dunes, he could try to climb that and then throw himself off when he reached a sufficient height. Perhaps he could cut a few hours off of the current timeline, get back to the Cube and wring necks. The plastics and soft materials of his glove had all already sloughed off, leaving him a mechanical shell crawling across the wasteland, one arm dragging himself along.
Perhaps this was what it felt like, a fraction of the narrative’s suffering.
His neural core was pulsing, the flash of agony on the back of his subconscious reminding him he could feel at all.
He knew it would only be a fraction of what Trigam and his thugs would endure.