Cottagecore witch! 🌿
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@chileanweas
Cottagecore witch! 🌿
SB: 50 USD
AB: 150 USD
The auction ends 48 hours after the last bid.
Just a mermaid taking a relaxing bath
I finished chapter 2 of "No one, Nowhere"! It has 3400 words and not a defined plot yet, just a lot of hurt/comfort.
Chapter 3 it's already in the making!
I'm going to post the second chapter next week!
Jean and Kaeya are best friends and y'all can't change my mind.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The body though weaken by the abuse the Entity forced her to endure was grateful for this chance to be normal even though she knew it was to her own gains. So be it the voided souls thought along with Saki, maybe they can finally learn to be human once again! However it be nice to learn how to walk in heels first, and use there arms with full control...ok this may be hard for the souls best have a soul run each limb just in case. (HOLY SHIT VIRI SEEMS TO ALWAYS IMPRESS ME! Thanks to the lovely Viri of @hex-we-need-therapy and https://twitter.com/theviridianleaf i have a outfit done for The Voided Hallowed aka saki for @fogs-masquerade-ball. See you there!
Arcane. Season 2. November 2024. #GeekedWeek
Faith was always in short supply in the fog, and Nea knew this as well as anyone else. Granted, to say she was a woman of God at any time of her life would be nothing short of a lie. How could men and women of power fill their pockets with blood-stained cash to fill their empty hearts with anything to make them feel whole? Using race, class, or even the name of whatever God could allow them the most support, they would taint it and use it for vile deeds. She couldn’t stand there and take it, tagging the walls of the towns she once lived in, trying to expose the deeds of such people many times before. Now that she was here, she was in the realm of something akin to a horror movie with a crazy alien god, classical slasher villains with chainsaws, and monsters of all makes and shapes. With each passing day, if days are even real in this realm, she would learn more slowly, but more likely, another question would be asked, like what is this entity, why does it feed in this certain way, and can it bleed?
To make a god bleed was the oddest question she had in mind. If God could bleed, could she and the other find a way to kill it and go home? But a part of her wonders: if they do go home, would they appear at the times of disappearance? Would it be as if nothing ever happened and all of this would be a simple dream? So many damned questions with barely any answers! She could ask most of those crazed killers that she saw slaughter her friends before her eyes; most would just stab or crush her throat before she could ask the more human-looking killers why this was happening. But in truth, she only saw one killer who seemed to want to answer her questions—the same one that now sleeps beside Quentin, as if she wasn’t the same woman from before who slaughtered him as if he were nothing more than a dog needing to be put down. Junko Yoshida calls herself, but to Nea, she will always be seen as “The Entity Chosen.” As she once called herself before, she is nothing more than a survivor, like the rest of us.
Nea couldn’t help but look at her in disgust, and she knew she wasn’t alone in this, but some, however, dare say she was just another victim like the rest of them! How could she be able to live nicely without the risk of being beheaded or ripped apart by the Hillbilly or Leatherface while enjoying killing the same people she now calls “brother in arms"? She just stared daggers into the sleeping woman, but soon she would hear someone speak.
"Nea, for God sake, relax; she is not hurting him; in fact, I think this is the best sleep he has had in a while.” She would barely look to the side to see Steve standing there, finishing up a bowl of stew, she would guess. Not long after Junko joined the survivors, a cauldron with supplies to cook appeared next to the fire. Most weren’t sure if it was a gift of goodwill from the being that holds them here or some kind of trick to gain more emotions from them so they wouldn’t be thrown out as quickly. Whatever it was didn’t ease the tension and anger she felt for Junko; just the thought of her being here made it worse. How many times has she personally been stabbed and toyed with by this brat? She saw that fucking large smile and shark tooth-like grin! Those eyes weren’t the eyes of someone with a job; those were the eyes of a bloodthirsty freak who enjoyed her screaming for someone to help her while watching her slowly die in horrible pain and agony. Worse yet was when she was the last one alive, and she knew she was gone. Junko always ended up hungry after a hard day at work as a survivor, and it was just the same as before, only instead of home-cooked food, the meal was fresher. Nea still got cold sweats seeing those teeth. Junko had always placed a hand over her neck out of reflex.
“How can we even trust her?” She quickly stated that Steve could only give a disappointed look. “We talked about this before with everyone," Before he could finish that thought, Nea just gave him a glare. “She is nothing like us, Steve; she is a goddamn freak! How many times has she fucking killed us with that box cutter or that crazy knife of hers? Well, I know it’s way too much!” She cried out, pointing at the sleeping Junko. “She isn’t even close to us, man. Sure, she helps, but it’s because of her that we are here in the first place! Not to mention that crazy cult of hers that, for all we know, could have been spying on us this whole time! That damn cult of her could be behind so much pain and suffering hell; I wouldn’t be surprised if she knew more about that Demogorgon, then she lets on!” She yelled. What could this freak be hiding? was the question that filled her mind, and she couldn’t tell what answers would help them or not. Until she saw Steve give a disgusted look towards Junko, but not the type she felt towards her, but rather something unnatural and horrible.
She looked behind her to see her sleeping there, or so she thought. However, a quick and trained look towards the black, meaty, blood-gushing hole in her head showed that it was moving only slightly. She was awake! Nea wanted to say something, only to see the other eye show an odd orange-yellow-ish glow as she got up to stand, smiling a tiny bit. Nea could almost see those horrible, sharp teeth showing themselves as she feared the possibility of pissing her off. However, Junko would wave her hands to claim them. "Nea, please, I mean you no harm, but I shall admit that hearing those comments is a bit disheartening. My faith is not some crazed “cult” as you see in movies or books!” She said as she looked towards Steve with a smile. “But I will say that my faith has been hoping to learn more about the beast that you and your friend fought against. Reminds me we should talk about your However, before she could finish, Steve interrupted, pointing at one of his eyes. “Why is your eye doing that?” He asked clearly close to losing his composure to the disgusting sight of Junko's blown-out eye, as before long they could smell something being burned to see that Junko held her head, hissing a bit in pain. “Entities are quick to heal from wounds, and I am no different. It seems like my eye was trying to heal itself, but the bullet in my head burned it away.” She stated it as if that wasn’t a horrible thing to endure! Nea was feeling a wave of sickness flow through her at the horrible smell that came from the hole in her head. As soon as Quetin would seem to wake up, not long after coughing up at the smell himself, Junko seemed to cover her eye a bit to try and deter it as best she could, but Nea could still smell it.
“Fucking creep….” She added before going out into the woods a bit, just far enough away so the smell wouldn’t follow her. She could almost puke at the smell, but thankfully she had a moment to herself and to reflect on her situation, looking up at the forever-night sky. She could say what she wanted to about the entity or the bastard offspring named Junko; she could admit it was relaxing, if only because it was the few places around that offered her peace and a claim from the horror deeper in the woods. Sadly, however, she would see the sky change as rain clouds brew overhead, and she could feel drops of rain fall onto her face as if to wash away the dirt and grim from trails before. However, that wasn’t the end, as soon as she could hear the faint sound of gunshots far deeper in with the sounds of explosions from maybe bombs, she couldn’t really tell. Then the oddest sounds rang louder than the gunshots or the bombings. It was bells, more specifically church bells, that gave loud rings that would once call people of faith to worship whatever god they thought was real and true, but now it felt more like a warning to stay away or maybe to help them, as if saying, “We are here; please save us.”
Nea couldn’t tell how she felt, but she knew that an odd part of her wanted to run towards it. Maybe it was curiosity that ruled that idea, but she did everything in her power to try and walk away from it all, only to be met with the full force of Junko's body running into her, causing them both to hit the ground hard. Nea was fine; she just felt the wind getting knocked off her, but when she looked towards Junko, she could see a fragment of fear and worry on her face as she quickly got herself to her feet and ran deeper into the woods to be gone from sight. What the fuck was going through her mind? Nea thought to herself as she dusted herself off to see both Steve and Quentin following after her as best they could. "Guy, what the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy?" Nea would call out as Quentin only looked back to quickly say, “We can’t just leave her to die. Plus, maybe wherever she goes can help!” He said he was going back to follow the two. This was fucking stupid running into what sounds like a goddamn warzone following a crazy woman! But shit, they had a point; they couldn’t just leave her to die, plus there had to be a reason why she would willingly run towards a place.
So she ran after her through the forest and trees, catching up with her two closest friends and allies, but had already lost Junko within a few moments. However, it wouldn’t be long before they could hear the gunshots and explosions become closer but, oddly, die down as they came closer and closer to them. The rain still never died down with it, though in fact it seemed to have gotten worse, with thunder crashing throughout the skies above as soon as the three of them would find themselves at the steps leading down towards an odd-looking town.
No, a town wasn’t the best word for it, as they could see many odd areas, a large prison-like area barbed wire fences now rammed through with tanks and cars of all makes and models, some of them clearly not of human design. A large ship bigger than any they could have seen in their lifetime was near a dock, waiting seemingly forever for someone to come aboard. In the middle of it all, however, they would find a large hole in the middle of the town near a cathedral bigger than anything made back in the normal world. As the three walked down, knowing damn well Junko had gone to the church, they would find it littered with dead bodies, spent casings, and bullet holes along the walls of homes and small little businesses. There were no weapons to be found, but they could find that many of the corpses had different symbols, be it that odd entity symbol they see around the place, some of a black dog head, or some never seen before in hell. A great number of them only had an ugly red cross scar on their faces and looked like they enjoyed being blown away by gunfire. Nea honestly didn’t know what was creeping her out more than the bodies or the watch towers, propaganda posters with old loudspeakers hanging all over the place. Nea knew what this place was. Her gut gave her a great idea of what it was.
“We are in one of Junko’s goddamn prison labor camps! Look at this place poster of her demanding people to work for redemption! How many innocent people could have died here??"She would say that this was just giving her more and more reason to despise the woman. However, Quentin, usually the quiet one, spoke up with his own idea. “Maybe the people here aren’t innocent? Could it be possible that the people she kept here were bad people?” He had a point; she wasn’t fully sure who was kept here, but still, how could she do such a thing? "Actually, can we ask her where the hell we are and what the hell happened here? I swear, I almost tripped over the shell casing more times than I want to admit!” Steve would suggest clearly trying to lighten the mood. Nea would sigh as she still felt unease about the whole thing till they came across the cathedral, where they would find what seemed to be a last stand for whatever army was trying to hold the church. However, that wasn’t the first thing Nea noticed, as soon as she would come across a single pyre that held the remains of a burned person. She couldn’t even tell if the person was a man or a woman. Well, she couldn’t tell what the person could have looked like before being burned alive. She had to endure the horrible smell and the feeling of vomiting wanting to come up, but thankfully she endured it as she quickly went past the open door as Quentin and Steve followed behind.
Ruined and battle-ready may be the best way to describe the inside pews flipped over or ridden with bullet holes or slash marks from something she wasn’t really sure of. She knew this at least back in its early years; she had to admit that seeing such a church would fuel her creative drive for the arts, but now it just reminds her of the horrors that men of power can commit on good people for greed or power. Most of the stained glass windows were broken into rags of cloth hanging from the tips as someone or something tried to break in. However, once they found Junko, they would find the last remaining window untouched by anything around them. Junko was on her knees, eyes closed, hands on her sides, as if praying almost to this window.
It was an equal match of artistic brilliance and horror if you look past it for religious purposes, and Nea could only see it as art and not a sign of true faith from a horrible cult. It showed a woman, more than likely Junko herself, a pre-survivor without her normal glasses on her knees, seemingly crying about something. But it could also be a look of shame and disgust at herself, and the tears are actually blood running down her face. Yes, that seemed more than likely, as the area around the kneeling woman had corpses of men and women, signs of guts or wounds hidden away to make it more appealing, but a pool of blood was clearly seen around the kneeling woman. The woman killed them, it seemed, and for what reason Nea couldn’t tell. Behind the kneeling woman was a black, shadowy figure of the entity symbol, one of the entity claws placing a hand on the woman's shoulder. It seemed to be comforting to the woman, but even then, such a thought seemed impossible if that was the entity or an idea of what the entity could be like. She looked over to her friends to see their reactions, with Quentin in a daze, almost looking around the place, walking not too far from them, and Steve seemingly next to her, waiting for her to be done, head bowed down as if praying with her. She knew he wasn’t actually praying; he was just trying to be kind to her, but how the fuck could he do such a thing?
“Where are we, Junko?” Nea said a tone of demand thick within it, walking close to Junko at her side, the opposite of Steve, who looked at her mouthing to let her pray. Fucking let the crazed cultest pray to the monster that held them to be slaughtered? Fuck that she thought as she would grab a hold of her shoulder, shaking her a bit and her head bobbing with the shakes. “For fuck sake, where the hell are we?! Why do you own a labor camp??''She asked, pushing her down a bit and almost hitting the ground. Junko was almost in a trance, it seemed. Steve looked a bit worried, speaking softly just so she could hear, "Nea, come on! I would rather not have you two fight while we are in some random camp.''As he said, they would hear Junko speak in some kind of language they had never heard of, only understanding one word. “Throdogoth l' entity.” She would say this before opening her eye and standing on her feet again. “This is, or a rather great copy of, Kurouzu-cho Penitentiary, a penal colony we set up trying to learn about something that went down here.” She said it in a matter-of fact tone.
She easily confessed to owning a labor camp. How the fuck could anyone trust her? “Do not worry, the people here were the worst of the worst; no one, any of you two, would care for or feel pity.” She said she was looking towards Nea specifically. “But good men and women died trying to defend this place from rival armies, so I request you not tag this with your art, Nea," she would add, looking dead into her eyes with that one good eye and a fucked-up hole in her head that was once an eye. She was trying to make her bend to her will to put the fear of God in her, but no. She would not bend to people like her. “I will do whatever the hell I want, Junko. It's not like you can stop me either way. Kick my ass here and you risk a killer jumping us; try to do it at the campfire; what stops someone like Bill or Ash from knocking your teeth out.” Nea knew Junko worked well with those two, but she could tell those two may be able to handle her if she tried to kill or hurt anyone. A staredown was happening, and Nea wouldn’t lose to some cultist! But sooner or later, someone had to blink, and sadly, it had to be here because of what Steve said.
"Wait, Junko, the two of us? There are three people here. Me, Nea, and Quentin.” There was a thing of fear in Steve's voice as Nea quickly blinks, turning her head to where Quentin was just standing. Fuck, he was gone! He was just here; why would he wonder off like that? “He couldn’t have gone far; we just need to keep a claim head and,” A loud, horrible scream cut Junko off as Steve led the charge, following the voice, with Junko quickly following. Nea did the same, worried that Quentin could be hurt! She was stupid; why didn't she keep a closer eye on him? For all she knew, Freddy was messing with him! Through the post-battle-ridden hallways, they tried to pinpoint the screams as they could make out a faint heartbeat from each of them. That means a killer was near; for better or worse, Nea knew they could at least find Quentin faster.
Soon they did, as he ran himself into a wall, holding his wrist, and side blood dripped down faster than he could sweat. Nea and the other two quickly ran to him, helping him take a knee to check his wounds. Steve was keeping watch as she and Junko quickly went to fix him up as Junko would speak. “This wasn’t a normal weapon by the looks of it; slash wounds look amateurish, like the weapon was improved instead of battle-ready. Almost jagged too.” Could it be the Legion who was here? Nea thought. She knew one of the thugs' knives could fit, being more like a stick with sharp blades on it than anything. But Quentin shot down that idea as he stuttered a bit in pain in his voice, almost hissing as Nea did her best to fix the wound. "It was some glass shard that got me. Fucking dug in deep... looked like a hooker you see in an old 80’s flick!"
Nea didn’t know how to react to such an idea, but when she was about to ask Junko what that could mean, she had to have some ideas of future killers who at least had to be good for something, but instead Junko's face almost went pale, her good eye giving a stare into nothing. Sweat ran down her head like bullets, as if scared of something but of what she didn’t know, and to be frank, seeing Junko of all people getting scared didn’t give her hope.
She saw Junko get scared or worried before they were sure they were survivors getting hunted down almost daily. Any man or woman would be scared deep down, but this wasn’t the normal fear she saw in Junko. This was pure, unfiltered dread on her face; this was a look that Nea knew all too well, and it was something she could never see on a killer face. Junko would slowly start walking away from the trio of survivors. Steve quickly tried to grab a hold of her shoulder to stop her, but almost in a blink of an eye, Nea would find Steve flat on his as he held his now bleeding nose to quickly see Junko running towards where Quentin came from.
“I told you she couldn’t be trusted! Now look, she is running off to leave us for dead!” Nea yelled, knowing deep down that was far from the truth. But the anger and frustration of seeing both of her friends hurt didn’t help the matter at all. "Well, I’m not leaving her; something clearly is not right with her, and better to know now why she is scared than later!” Steven said as he quickly helped Quentin to his feet. Nea offered him a shoulder to lean on as they followed where Junko ran. Deep into the church of a dark faith, they went as the heartbeat became louder at times, but they couldn’t find the killer, only finding Junko about to head up some stairs.
"Junko, you best explain what the fuck is going on before I kick your sorry ass!” Nea cried out, causing Junko to stop and look towards the three of them. Fear still owned that face, but it looked akin to how she would feel about losing her friends in a trail, unsure if she would find them before the killer. “Come on, we gotta get out of here, man. I’m not feeling so hot.” Quentin could barely mutter as he looked close to passing out. However, “And what?! Leave her to fucking die! The fuck is wrong with you all. How can you act in such a cruel manner? A trio of godless heretics!” Oh, pot calling kettle black, almost Nea thought as she wanted to speak her mind, but Steve stopped her by speaking first. Honestly, it might be a good idea if he was better at calming people down.
“We aren’t leaving anyone behind, Junko. Please calm down before we all get hurt.” Those words seemed to get through to her a bit, but soon they would hear a new pair of footsteps akin to high heels clicking against the floor of this once noble house of faith. The heartbeat grew louder and louder as Nea would whisper towards Steve, “Come on, let’s leave her! She can handle herself; besides, she would have wanted us to live anyway!” Steve, however, shook his head, as, out of either bravery or foolishness, he would move closer towards Junko as she looked towards the top of the stairs. Then they would see the being that hurt Quentin and the reason why Junko was once scared.
She didn’t want to look back as she heard Junko scream in pain, and it was horrific. She learned that entities can die, it seems, and they scream just like people, almost. {Holy shit this may have been one of the largest things I done in a good long while and to boot I got good art drawn! Said art is made by the great and kind @hex-we-need-therapy so please show them love and support! New Killer will be spoken on in a bit to be sent asked or roleplayed with if needed!}
this is amazing! I love the story! Also the comic is amazing!! look at that! the lights the shadows! it is AMAZING!
Missing his voice
HEARTSTEEL Early Concept Art - Citemer Liu
Aw shoot. I don't really have a muse....
🛏
Can we see Steve faint? He seems to be the one to work himself to exhaustion, plus Quentin is the easy choice for this prompt and I wanted to switch it up a bit.
Steve’s breaths were unsteady puffs of air as he dragged his broken body across the painfully long hall. The porcelain tiles that line the walls feel cold under his bloodstained fingers. Painted with his own blood.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
DRIP.
There's something dripping over his split lips. Its taste is salty, slightly metallic.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Someone should check that leak. When moisture seeps into the walls it's a bitch to deal with. In addition to the horrible smell that it will generate. Ugh.
Drip.
Drip.
His frame shakes as he struggles to put one foot in front of the other. The chestnut doesn’t think remembering that it used to be so difficult to walk. At least it wasn't before-, before... before... What was he just thinking about?
Drip.
The constant sound of the leak seems to be the only thing he is able to hear, almost rumbling in his ears. It's maddening.
The brown-eyed one fixes his pupils on the ground, trying to find where the insistent sound comes from, and instead of clear water, all he can see is red.
Is water supposed to be that color?
Drip.
Drip.
Steve feels nauseous, breathing is difficult. So, so difficult. His body screams in agony as his knees finally can't carry his own weight, and the world is suddenly too bright, too fast, too dizzying. Just too much.
He thinks he might be dying, as the colors seem to saturate with each erratic beat of his heart. The shapes surrounding him look strange, somehow wrong. They are growing and getting darker.
He thinks he hears someone shouting his name in the distance, but he is unable to respond, as the void has finally come to devour him.
poor Steve :(
Junko Yoshida, The Entity Chosen, a killer who rarely took pleasure in killing the survivor in the fog in fact many would think she was emotionless. However that wasn't the case at all she just thought of killing the poor Dwight as another day at the office, another Jake to carry to the hook, another Ada who smacks a pallet on her head. She was faithful to her God and job and that could be even worse.
(HOLY FUCKING SHIT MORE ART AND PROUD TO SAY ITS A NEW PIC FOR MY BLOG. However I got 4 of the lot and I'm honestly having trouble choosing which one so if you guys got suggestions share! I will change the pic soon enough and this wonderful art is made by the dear @hex-we-need-therapy . First a comic now this! Please support the blog as best you can!
miren a esto, esta GOOOOOD!
@the-entity-child
It would seem while the survivors were away from the one only place of claim and peace in the realm of madness and death a odd woman would appear with cooking some kind of stew at the roaring bonfire. It could have been a new survivor maybe but soon they would notice the tanto holstered to her side as black spider limbs similar to the entity has! Before they could move the woman would speak turning to them with a smile and a wave. "Oh your already back? How was it do you want some food?"
TW: Implied/referenced past suicide attempt, very mild gore, psychological horror.
Nea it didn't used to be to being a religious person, how could she believe in the existence of a kind god when so many things were wrong in the world? When homicides were the daily bread. When money was (is) more powerful than justice and the horrific acts carried out by those with greater economic power, are hidden behind bills.
How can there be a god when famines, wars and abuses are overlooked?
As such, Nea also didn't believe in the afterlife. What was supposed to be after death, if there is no heaven or hell? What was left after? Nothing. The lack of existence.
However, his perception of reality was irretrievably destroyed once she had reached the realm of the Entity.
Some people would have said that the experience ripped a blindfold off their eyes, making them understand the passages written in a book hundreds of years old. A book that speaks about the divinity of the gods, written by the corrupt hand of the mankind.
She still thinks all of that is bullshit. What she can't keep thinking about is the lack of the presence of the afterlife.
The young artist doesn't know what the circumstances of her current situation are, is she still alive? She supposes that she must be, for she would not otherwise bleed every time her tender flesh is cut open; she would not feel pain, sadness, or happiness. She wouldn't feel the softness of Steve's hair between her fingers, when he finally breaks and she has to try to put the pieces back together. She wouldn't feel Quentin's nervous heartbeat against her body, during those rare occasions when they can coax him into sleep, and the three of them end up huddled near the campfire.
Is this hell? Who is the Entity? Why can't they die? So many have tried before, exhausted by nightmares and fear, wanting a way out of this awful place… only to wake up a little more broken than they were.
Geez…she's so tired.
"Do you think Quentin will make it out?" the athlete's hoarse voice breaks the silence after what seems like an eternity. It sounds small, and wrong. So fucking wrong.
Or is it the residual static of the trial, still frying her brain? Ever since she came back to life, her ears haven't stopped ringing.
The clear eyes of the Swedish leave the ground, to trace the haggard face of the youngest. He still has a little blood on the corners of his lips, and his expression looks haunted.
She chooses to shrug, exhausted. Moving is painful, but she's not ready to talk yet. She is afraid that if she opens her mouth, she will just start screaming again. He seems to share the sentiment, because after that he doesn't speak again.
Finally, when the anxiety is too much to remain prostrate in the same place, the duo begin the slow walk to the camp. The unnatural silence of the forest raises the hairs on the back of her neck, and more than once she has to be brought back to reality by the chestnut, when she is sure that the Doctor is stalking her from behind a tree.
The warm light of the fire, however, is the incentive they both need to drag their feet for the last few meters. That and the too exquisite aroma that perfumes the air as they approach. However, any spark of curiosity or relief that might have ignited in their hearts is crushed by the sight that greets them: There, standing in the middle of the campfire, the slender figure of a girl stands out in the loneliness of the location. Beside her, a cauldron bubbles, emitting the enticing scent that had watered their mouths moments before.
"Oh your already back? How was it? Do you want some food?"
Nea feels like she's going to throw up, despite the sweet tone the…creature uses. Her friendly smile arouses a sense of panic so strong in herself, that it takes her breath away. Or is it the overwhelming emptiness that is opening in the pit of her stomach, like a black hole?
What's going on? This is not fair. THIS IS NOT FAIR. They're supposed to be safe here. IT WAS SUPOPSED TO. Supposed, what is supposed? HA, how could she be so stupid? How could she let herself be fooled? Nothing here is safe. It's all a lie, a trick. They are going to die? Will they finally die? Or is this another twisted game? Where are everybody?
"What's in the pot?" The jock's voice sounds strained, like he's about to have a mental brakdown right there. Out of the corner of her eye she can see him briefly, pale and rigid.
Her aquamarine irises take another look at the stew. If she squints, she can make out what appear to be pieces of meat floating on the surface.
Oh God.
Bile burns her throat.
"Where are the others?" She'd swear she just spoke, but she's not sure if any sound actually left her lips or if she just thought it.
Everything is too much.
@the-entity-child
Steve is exhausted after a pretty rough trial he sits down on one of the logs at the Campfire his brain in a tired haze and sighs. He accidently nudges someone else sitting down on one of the logs cause he's swaying. He turns and apologizes "Sorry, i'm a little tired." However he realizes he's looking into his own face. He realizes the Entity probably sent him to one of the other Campfires. This is the first time he's seen another Steve that wasn't in a trial with him. "Oh! Hi!" @askgogglessteve
"Hey man, are you ok? You don't look so peachy" asked the brunet, his voice soft and concerned.
This wasn't the first time Steve had seen a copy of himself at the campfire. Is it rude to call him that? A copy? After all, they're their own individuals, with differentes thoughts, feelings and stories.
"I don't know how long it'll be until the entity decides to fix this, uh- glitch on the reality? But you can rest here. It's safe. I can patch you up if you need it too. I think I have left one or two medkits". @askgogglessteve
Hey Nea, I have a real rib tickler you! How much do Whale Bones Weigh?...A SkeleTON! -Ari
- Now that I have the opportunity to speak to you without having to worry about my life ... I love your hair— said Nea to Susy with a smirk, her face half hiding behind the cup with booze. — She is always hyping about your outfits and yada yada— singed Quen mischievously
“It was my prom outfit too! Well, all of us are wearing our old prom stuff,” Add Susie.
“You guys look really cool, too! I like the leather, Nea. That’s your name, right? Nea?” Susie laughs nervously. “Sorry. Not easy remembering survivor names, but sometimes we do.”
The surprise on the artist's face is evident, as she never thought that those who hunted them for sport would see them as more than animals. That she knew her name meant something too complicated to think about right now.
- Sorry, I uh- I don't know your name -. she answered herself, not knowing how to react to the situation. Quentin, next to her, looked just as puzzled.
- We've given you all nicknames. We call you "pink" -
this is the rudest thing ive ever seen
"Lenny" by David B Cooper (Source/Site)