Graduating class of 20--
[rotated under the cut]
Graduating class of 20--
[rotated under the cut]
Klirro || DeVille Coven Clinic || Present Night
Note: Neffie and Uunive belong to @terribletrollstbh!
Neffie hauled the sleeping - dead? - sleepdead? - troll down, down, down to the webs. She carried her wrapped up form down stairs creaking and singing, down to the dark cool space that held the tomb Klirro had dragged with her out of the temple, down away from the pink and green moonlight and into the smell of dust and mild decay.
Klirro liked to repeat words to herself so they spiraled back in on themselves, turning to echoing nonsense, like the troll tale about the forest nymph whose voice was taken and could only repeat what others said to her.
Aside from the small stone tomb there lay beautiful silk and the looms, wide wooden structures hung with the shimmering strings. The long-dead things, once trolls, hanging peacefully from the ceiling to become threads, flesh to beautiful tapestry.
Trolls had so many stories. Stories that ate stories and became new stories, all coming back to where they began.
Oh, Neffie was talking, and the troll wasn’t sleeping or dead anymore. She went back along that thread of time so her mind could catch up.
“Hope your lusus comes quick.” Said the spider troll, sneering as she thrust the limeblood into the room from the sack she’d been snatched in. The troll stumbled and flailed as she was dumped onto the floor, but quickly rose to her feet as her captor spoke again.
“If they don’t I might add you to my collection.”
The tall jade gestured with a careless hand to the webbed up corpses hanging from the ceiling. The girl’s eyes grew wide and she swallowed, but her fists clenched.
“Tuuya?” Responded the breathing girl, afraid and confused but also angry. So many feelings! Feelings layered upon layer, twisting and curling.
The old drinker reached out a hand to the little troll, her claws long and gnarled, and the lime shrunk back.
“What do you want with my mom?” She said, snappish, trying to hide her fear. Why did she try? Fear was a machine for spiraling.
“The worm has that name now?” Klirro asked. “They had so many…the last was Lleios.”
Neffie ignored her elder rainbowdrinker. “Not us. Blame that wasp woman. Not that I care, though - as far as I’m concerned you’re a snack waiting to happen unless they get here fast enough.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Demanded the heavyset limeblood, hands on her hips. “Tuuya would probably give you whatever you wanted if you asked nicely!”
Neffie stared at her and then laughed, shoulders shaking with mirth. The sound echoed and bounced as all the molecules vibrated with it, the energy dissipating into the underground space.
“Wow, they really did tell you nothing. Guess they don’t think much of you. I mean, why would they? You’re just free blood.”
“Tell me.” She demanded. “Tell me and I’ll behave. I want to understand.”
“I don’t have to tell you a thing.” Drawled the undead. “But I guess it doesn’t really make a difference. Sit down.”
Obediently the shorter troll sat on a worn and bloodstained couch, prim with her hands in her lap. Her posture might be submissive and refined, but Klirro saw the sharp attention in those jade-contact eyes, hiding their true color.
“Your lusus never liked us. Why, I don’t know - they’re weird about other drinkers, except now they have that class that I guess real bloodsuckers aren’t invited to - ” Neffie cut off her own bitter voice.
Klirro had never understood why the coven minded the worm’s rejection. They - Tuuya - must always be very confused, with two lives in one. They barely knew who they were.
The others didn’t see that, and they didn’t understand when she tried to explain. Words were beautiful, but clumsy. It was easier to communicate in shared sensations, but that usually melted troll brains.
Oh, she had to go back on the loop of time again to hear.
“ - but it’s whatever. We got paid to go after them, we weren’t going to turn that down. Even if we wanted to, this other woman is worse, Hirudo said. She’s wasps and she’s much older than elder Etuuya. I don’t know what she wants them for and honestly I don’t care. They should’ve treated us with proper respect when they had the chance.”
The young girl was silent, her round face thoughtful.
“So you captured me to get to them? How did you even find me?”
Neffie sniffed, clearly tired of answering, picking idly at the sleeve of her striped shirt.
“Doesn’t matter, you’re here now and you get to keep the stiffs company while you wait. Bathroom’s over there, we’ll bring food. You try to get out and we’ll all take turns sipping from your jugular. I’ve never had lime before, didn’t even know you still existed. I wonder what you taste like.”
Neffie smiled, showing her long, slightly jagged teeth. Uunive - that’s right, her name was Uunive - stared back, even though she trembled.
“Why do you fear?” asked Klirro. “You fear death?”
“Getting my throat ripped out, specifically.” Muttered the girl. “Don’t touch me.”
Klirro withdrew her hand. It had hung in the air the whole time; the dead flesh she was bound to did not get stiff or numb.
“I feel how the world aligns itself for you. I am sorry the planets do not spin their song to favor your first life continuing.”
The girl stared at the spindly maroon drinker, whose tone carried sincere sorrow and regret.
“How can you say that when you’re with them? You make no sense.”
Klirro smiled and made the skin of her arms strip itself and form a spiral, thin and weaving together into a whole. Her dead muscles showed beneath, glistening pinkish gray shot through with pulsating red spirals that flickered in endless fractal patterns.
“Luck is one layer of the spiral, a flat plane! The quicksilver bead dips and yaws, but it cannot know the sphere no matter its direction. Your flesh mind cannot divine what originated outside flesh.”
Uunive stared, her round face wrinkling with revulsion and confusion.
“You’re insane…” she muttered, without much conviction.
“Klirro is old.” Scolded Neffie. “Be polite. She’s still something if she’s riled - stronger than your lusus, that’s for sure.”
The jade spat the words with more defiance and spite then actual confidence.
She looked up at the older undead, expression cool.
“Don’t let her escape. By which I mean leave the basement.”
Klirro put her skin back the way it had been and pressed her hands together, nodding. Neffie went up the creaking basement stairs, locking the door behind her with a forbidding click.
Uunive flopped on the couch, lying on her back as she stared at the ceiling, trying to avoid looking at the webbed-up bodies. Klirro saw that the few bright ones - shiny flares of color bleeding into glorious silk - seemed to unsettle her the most by how her face moved, how she pulled back into the old cushions as if they would hurt her.
“Are you really going to let me go if Tuuya comes?” She asked quietly. “Or am I a dead troll walking.”
Klirro felt events possibly yet to happen. Her awareness curled around worlds where they had already occurred. It brushed past the things that always happened, the fixed spokes on which the multiverse twisted and turned through the ether.
“Yes.” She answered honestly, because to her most things were true. “I set you free myself.”
The limeblood didn’t look like she believed that.
Klirro merely turned away, tracing spirals in the air with her finger, the floor around her warping slightly as it always did if she stayed in place too long.
Glowing red concentric lines radiated out from the horrorterror, their light throwing Uunive’s face into stark shadow as she turned away, shaking with soft sobs as her situation fully sunk in.
Klirro listened curiously. She had never been able to weep. Troll mourning impossible to understand, except to feel a vague sadness that they couldn’t see the whole of things as she could.
“Your lusus will come.” The drinker said. In this world it was a certainty.
The worm would come, and they’d shed their clear, bloodless tears over what would happen that night.
That, too, was certain.
Before they leave for warm-up
Ochako: *puts a hand on Katsuki's shoulder* How are you feeling?
Katsuki: *trying to hide the fact that he's tearing up* Like my fucking boyfriend abandoned me ON MY LAST HIGH SCHOOL COMPETITION...to fuck around with the extended family THAT HE HATES!
Ochako: Yeah...it sucks, but we're heading out for warm-ups now. Better grab your snare.
Katsuki: *half-heartedly glares* Fuck off, Floaty.
Later ~ Marching onto the performance field
Announcer: AIRGRAMS FOR YUUEI! To my little Pikachu...Denki you're amazing. Enjoy your last competition! Rock on!
Announcer: The air of anonymity still divides us. Have a great show and GO YUUEI!
Announcer: We know you can do it! Play your best for your last show and continue to reach for the stars, our future astronaut! Love you, Ochako! From Mom and Dad.
Announcer: From Mom and Dad...You got this, Tetsu and go sousaphones!
Announcer: And finally...For Kacchan. You're like an atom bomb...all encompassing and brilliant. You're not only the center of the band's heart, but the center of mine. Will you marry me? With love from Deku.
Basically the entire band...as well as a lot of the crowd: *cheering and clapping, hooting and hollering...making a ruckus*
Katsuki: *literally speechless, gaping like a fish, from his back field spot he can barely make out a frantically waving greenet in the front row of the stands*
Izuku: SURPRISE KACCHAN!
Katsuki: *comes back to himself, grins ferally and twirls his drumsticks, maintains some professionalism and doesn't yell back, but is definitely going to attack his boyfriend with affection and a definite "yes" when he gets off the field...fucking Deku*
📚Black Poetry Day: Children’s & YA Book Selections
If you missed Black Poetry Day on October 17th, no worries you can still check out this list
Jupiter Hammon was born on October 17, 1711. He is known as the father of African American literature, a distinction that recognizes him as the first published African American poet. Black poetry day began in 1985 as a day to honor Hammon and has since transformed into a celebration of Black poets past and present. The poetry books and novels-in-verse were all published this year, and three, Unspeakable: The Tulsa Race Massacre, Home Is Not a Country, and Me (Moth) made the Longlist for the 2021 National Book Award for Young People’s Literature, with the latter moving into the finalist category.
See titles HERE
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Roger Clark and several of gaming's best known actors (namely: Troy Baker, Nolan North, Ashley Burch, Roger Craig Smith, plus many more) have come together to narrate Ambrose Bierce's Present At A Hanging and Other Ghost Stories. All proceeds go to St. Jude Childrens Research Hospital, hopefully you can pitch-in if it is within your means 🤞
The audio book is $14.95 and it has a great ensemble plus it's all going to a really great cause
did someone say deltarune wonderland au?
Little with Mr. Waggles 🍄🪳
My old Sky child qvq
Free Fiction Friday - The Monster Bed
Free Fiction Friday – The Monster Bed
THE MONSTER BED by Judy Lunsford Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Billy, and he was terrified of the monster that lived under his bed. It didn’t live under his bed at home, where he always felt safe and warm. Only here, in the unfamiliar white room of the hospital, filled with machines and things that beeped all the time. Late at night, in the rare moments where all was quiet…
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If there is a god, I’ll make him pay for all he’s done to us
“Good morning, Momma Mila!” I called, confident that I had woken up in my own bed. I could see my things right where they should be.
“Good morning, Ella. Today is ” she replied, her voice as cheerful as ever. “Today is Saturday, June Thirteenth. You are scheduled to spend most of your time on Ancient Tribes of Earth today, having a great number of building designs to create for the newly founded village of Madness. There are currently twenty-two blueprints from Four and Messy for you to examine before creating the game equivalents.”
As she spoke, I remembered a large number of different buildings that I must have spent hours on, otherwise I wouldn’t have remembered a thing. “Madness?” I asked in concern. That didn’t sound like much of a town name.
“Yes.” replied Momma MIla, sounding amused. “There was quite a debate over what to call the village, but everyone eventually agreed to go with Dea’s suggestion, which had initially been shot down immediately. The town is named after my daughter, as Dea had suggested.”
Nodding, I was certain I wouldn’t remember that one. I got dressed, put on my glasses, and stepped out into my family’s living room.
“Hey, sweetheart. Ready for breakfast?” asked Daddy as he glanced at the time.
“Sure!” I told him. Looking around, I asked “Where’s Mommy?”
“She had an early job this morning.” he replied, giving me a one-armed hug before standing up from his chair.
As we walked toward the main kitchen, I noticed a notification blinking away on my glasses. Opening it, I saw blueprints for buildings. Shortly thereafter, the word “STOP” flashed for a moment, and I realized I had almost walked into a wall. I adjusted course behind Daddy and went back to studying the first blueprint, picturing what the building would actually look like and how the plumbing would work. This tugged on a memory, and I pictured a few buildings sitting in a circle on the border between a lush, green area and a grey, creepy area. I also remembered a layout that Crazy had made, depicting a large metropolis with two of almost everything to provide for the living and dead equally. Noticing the name as I was mentally examining her layout, I rolled my eyes at the city name.
“Food, Ella.” prodded Daddy, causing me to lose whatever I had been doing as I took in the options for breakfast.
I took a blueberry waffle, some scrambled eggs, orange juice, some toast with strawberry jam, bacon… I loved bacon. I almost grabbed a scone when I instinctually checked my plate. No, I didn’t think I’d be able to eat a scone too. Using a spell to hold my food and drink, I hugged Daddy again before heading to find my friends at our usual spot.
When I arrived, they were chatting about some village named “Madness,” which seemed like a silly name for a town. I listened and munched on food as they debated whether or not to plan for Crazy’s suggested layout. That triggered a memory, and I almost forgot my toast as I looked over what might actually be the right layout. Neat!
After we finished eating, we did some cleaning for Marco. Then I double-checked the day and my schedule as I followed my friends toward the gaming rooms. I wasn’t lost, not that my friends would let me get lost.
When we arrived, I took my normal chair, logged into Ancient Tribes of Earth, since that was what everyone else was doing, and looked around. I was standing in some strange village and remembered something… I could imagine buildings stretching out from this point in different directions. These buildings, neat as they were, would eventually be replaced by a central keep or castle… I wasn’t quite certain.
Realizing that the others were hurrying around, I wondered what I was supposed to be doing. I checked my to-do list from Momma Mila and got busy with a design I had apparently started yesterday. Building in the game was relatively straightforward. The architecture skill allowed you to plan structures and place an outline of them on any building spot where you had permission. Construction crews could then build right over the outline with degrees of perfection based on their associated skill.
With greater points in architecture, more tools were unlocked. Some tools simplified the process and others allowed for more detail. If your skill was high enough for the task at hand, the outline would appear precisely how you planned it. Thanks to spending a fair amount of time with my parents in-game and having an inheritance bonus, my skill was pretty high. The fact that architecture grew with time spent playing with tools also helped the skill to shoot up.
Unlike my memory of the city layout, my in-game plans actually had links to the buildings I was currently working on. This was so neat! I felt like I had been given a gift, getting to help build a city from scratch. I backed up the layout to the current village plan and got to work, nearly losing my place when I saw a group of undead trudging on by with wagons of part. Creepy workforce!
The area for which I was designing buildings would be town center, gradually progressing into a more fortified structure as we gained resources to build it. With the center ring of buildings—our temporary homes—completed, I needed to get the next nearest houses placed, marking the start of streets.
Time passed quickly as I finished the previously started building and started converting one of the blueprints stored on my glasses to the game blueprints. Several buildings later, I caught sight of Four.
I dodged around a group of skeletal laborers that were working under the commands of some other type of undead and reached him. Feeling more than a little curious, I had to ask, “Hey, Four… Sorry if I’ve brought this up before, but… How are we paying for this?”
“The initial funding for the undead side came from the rulers of Greyshire. Crazy’s negotiations were extremely thorough. We’ll be paying taxes from that side of the town to Greyshire for as long as this area is under their rule. We’re going to have to do a lot of questing and general monster hunting to keep up funding for the living side, but Valeria, Luce, Stormcrow, and Crazy are all working on that already. Don’t worry. We’ll manage. The labor costs are amazingly low with the mindless undead doing the heavy lifting.” he assured me with a smile. “With you between buildings and noon approaching outside of the game, let’s see if everyone’s ready to break for lunch.”
I nodded my agreement and logged out, realizing that I really was hungry and wondering what was for lunch today. As I waited for my friends, I kept part of my mind focused on the prospect of food and wondered what I had been doing. Everyone looked so busy in the game. With everyone so focused, I was certain that I had been enjoying myself too.
Hello dear friends and kindly strangers!
I am now an officially published author! My short story, “Samhain,” was shortened a bit more and added to this fun and spooky anthology. “Every Dark Thing” is only 2.99 for Kindle, and I have been thoroughly enjoying the work of these other authors.
I can’t veil my excitement. I am STOKED! I am just happy to be here!!!
I am now working on my own project, of course… a full collection of my own poetry, and PERHAPS a collection of my own short stories. However, this is something I’ve been barely keeping a lid on and I am quite glad to tote it out!
This has been a goal for a long time. I am extremely happy. Please go forth and enjoy this collection of assorted short stories!!
Let Ed Sheeran read you (and the kids) a bedtime story
Ed Sheeran is set to make his debut as the CBeebies Bedtime Story reader next month. (more…)
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going to go bite something brb
girl i am about to cry in the library
going insane anybody want anything
what the fuck
what the fuck