NASA
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2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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blake kathryn
#extradirty
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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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@radioapppple
Hey Y'all!
I love:
-spicy food, huge books, fanart, weird food, horror, summertime, David Bowie, music, and anything Alastor!
I dislike:
-soggy fries, shoes, and vizviepop!!
Feel free to talk to me about anything (keep it appropiate, people!) I have another, more dark account called Valentine Evangeline!
Love you Babes! Don't die! (airkiss)
I randomly found this. So I'll just leave this...right here
Caine or Jax (gradnedge lilly, you get it)
caine
jax
Let the chaos ensue.
Jax is fine what are you talking about
it’s just. So beautiful.
LISTEN UP AGAIN KIDS STOP REBLOGGING THIS FUCKING GARBAGE POST. IT IS 100% FUCKING BULLSHIT AND CAN AND MOST DEFINITELY WILL LITERALLY KILL. DO YOU NOT SEE WARNING LABELS THAT SAY “DO NOT INDUCE VOMITING”? THEY AREN’T FUCKING AROUND. YOU CAN FUCKING BURN THEIR ESOPHAGUS BY CAUSING VOMITING, CAUSE CHOKING, DROWNING, OR MAKE IT WORSE! AGAIN DO NOT FORCE ANYTHING DOWN ANYONE’S THROAT. THEY. CAN. DROWN. IF SOMEONE IS LOSING CONCIOUSNESS ALL THE CHIT CHAT IN THE WORLD WILL NOT PREVENT IT AT THAT POINT THEY ARE IN SERIOUS DANGER. “Buuut i don’t wanna take them to the hospital!!!” WELL SUNSHINE GLAD YOU’D RATHER HAVE A DEAD FRIEND THAN A LIVING ONE BUT YOU’RE IN LUCK CALL FUCKING POISON CONTROL. THEY ARE NOT THE COPS. THEY WILL HELP YOU. AND IF THEY SAY GO TO THE FUCKING HOSPITAL YOU GO TO THE FUCKING HOSPITAL. NO EXCUSES. 0. NONE. I have seen this shit cross my dash SO MANY TIMES so PLEASE fucking reblog this and prevent some well meaning idiot from accidentally killing someone they love!
For the love of god PLEASE REBLOG THIS
I see this stupid fucking post one a goddamn week and someone is going to literally fucking die from it
@oneshoeshort
IF YOU WONT LISTEN TO OP, LISTEN TO THE RETIRED PARAMEDIC WHO HAS SEEN PEOPLE DIE FROM THIS SHIT.
Poison control may advise diluting the toxin somehow like with water or milk, otherwise do not give them something to drink and take the empty pill bottle/ blister pack with you to the hospital.
btw just searched it up, US poison control number is 1 800 222 1222
REBLOG
F U C K I N G
R E B L O G
T H I S
W H E N E V E R
Y O U S E E T H I S
O N Y O U R D A S H
UM
R E B L O G
I DONT CARE WHO YOU ARE
R E B L O G
i felt like this was important idk
PLEASE REBLOG!
In Canada, 1-844-764-7669 will connect you with a national poison control center
I found a list of poison center contact numbers around the world
Region1 Country Name of centre Address 1 Address 2 Address 3 Address 4 City Postal code Administrative telephone Fax Emergency telephone Ema
Take me to the emergency room and call poison control. 😓
Bro what do they mean force it down. HOW would that help. In any way at all.
me, talking to my doctor
“Do i look gender neutral?”
my doctor
“So much. You’re basically the Switzerland of genders!”
what
…hWat. Love that for you though.
white boy, you are GAY.
Leo Valdez to Jason Grace
…this sums up the entire series
Please read this because it is EXTREMELY important me (a transgender man) and to other trans individuals.
The US Government is currently trying to pass an incredibly dangerous national law for trans youth called HR 2616.
This bill would ban all Federally funded schools from teaching about gender identity or sexual orientation, prevent teachers from using the correct pronouns and names for trans students, remove books with any trans representation in them, and even go as far as to prevent teachers from acknowledging trans identity AT ALL.
Any school that does not follow this will lose all federal funding. This bill would also require teachers to forcibly out trans students to their families, which would be fatal to any trans student with a transphobic Family or just hateful family in general. Trans people are already a group that already has some of the highest rates of being victim to suicide, domestic violence, and sexual assault.
This bill actively makes teachers put those innocent children at such a big risk. This bill has rapidly passed the house this week with support from all 209 republicans, as well as 8 democrats. But, it's still being voted on in the senate, which means there is still time to help stop this.
To help stop this, you can visit 5calls.org (look up 2616 in the search bar), one of the most top issues filed Oppose Attacks on LGBTQ+ Students. Once you put in your general location, it will pull-up contact information for your senator, and give you a script for calling them.
If you are a minor and/or do not feel comfortable doing this, PLEASE repost this on here, or any other platform you are on/can find! This needs to be heard and fought against.
Thank you for reading this, my lovely people!
(My moots/friends that I'm tagging: @syrupppppppppp @s4pphicfurryr4ve2769 @starstarstarrystar @histrynerdss @billiloveyouso @ultimatebikergangleader69 @trixthemagemain @otlantispearlxox @jaxwithabow)
This is so important. I can not stress this enough. Trans rights are human rights! Please try to help stop this act from passing, either reposting or calling in!
THE RED DRESSES chapter one
-CHAPTER TWO-
-WRITING MASTERPOST-
TW's: blood, violence, mentions of addiction, death, abuse.
Any names that you may recognize are used with the permission of the actual person(s) that may also have that name.
Note: all fonts are from a different perspective of a different person, area, or group. (TUMBLR TOOK AWAY ME FONTSSSSSS. NUMBER'S NOW SHOW DIFFERENCE IN POV)
Prologue.
Emmy. Sweet, lovable Emmy, dead. A year ago, I didn’t know who she was. Eight months ago, I fell in love with her. Six months ago, we started dating. And now she’s dead. They’re ALL dead. And it’s my fault.
One year ago…
One.
Everyone is telling me there’s a new girl… and apparently, she’s cute. By everyone, I mean Kisha, my best friend. We’ve been best friends since I came out as bi. It wasn’t on purpose. When I told Kisha (truth or dare at a sleepover), the other girls heard me. Kisha didn’t care though, and invited me to another sleepover, and another, until we were inseparable.
That was the end of my “secret”, everybody knew. No reason to hide it anymore. But- it wasn’t as bad as you think. I’ve read stories, where coming out meant bullying, that’s not how it was for me. The only teasing I’ve witnessed is from immature boys, And my parents- they’ve never accepted the fact that I’m bi, when I brought it they ignored me for days. I tried to bring it up again, but my mom slapped me. That was the end of that.
Two.
My whole life is a fake. Ever since I was a young girl I knew it, I just didn’t want to believe it. My name is Diana- Diana Sala, and my world is in pieces. It all started off small. When mom first decided to quit her job and start a blog, I thought we would finally get to spend more time together, and at first mom was happier with her new job. But- then she started “going out” at night. She started cursing, and going out more. At eight I was used to having to do everything by myself… it’s not as bad as you would think. But- now. Now strange men I don’t know come into the house with mom late at night. Covered in blood. Teeth knocked out. Scarred faces… and now they know about me.
Three.
Trust. That’s the word that ravaged my family. Because my parents didn’t like my friends. Because I started sneaking out. Because I started stealing pills. Our perfect family isn’t a family anymore, because of trust.
Four.
“The name’s Jessica. But everyone calls me Jessi, so you can call me that too.” perfect! Now you're probably thinking; “what kind of weirdo introduces herself to herself?” Well, awkward new girl no more! Tomorrow I will start my plan to make real friends, not just my sock puppets…
Five.
I hate my dad’s military job. In the past ten years, I have been to eight different schools because of it; a catholic elementary school somewhere in Nevada, Californiaville elementary school, Watford Elementary, SES (Summertown elementary school), Goldenrod Junior High, Camden Middle School ( the Camden in ‘Jersey), Aunt Mary’s school for girls (seventh grade was brutal), P.S. 62, and now this school. Don’t believe me? Count them.
One.
I’m floating. Everyone I know is floating around me, we’re all in a bright, blue sky. Everyone is happy, enjoying themselves. Talking, flying, laughing… but the sun is slipping away from me. The moon replaces it, and the people are falling. “Amelia! Amelia, help me!” Kisha is falling with the rest of them. I reach out to her, but suddenly, her eyes glass over. She disappears, and is replaced with a girl I don’t know. “Kisha! Kisha, where are you!?” I scream into the night, but no one responds. The only other people in the sky are mysterious people in red dresses and cloaks that are appearing and floating towards me. What is happening? “Tell me where Kisha is! Please!”, I yell at the girls, but they don’t respond. One more figure flies towards us, but she is not in a red dress. It hurts to look at her, but I don’t know why. I look down, to save my tired eyes. “Who are you?”, I scream, fear gripping my insides. “You will never find the red dresses, Amelia”, she says in a raspy, yet melodic voice. “Who are you?”, I screech again. She flies away without responding, the mysterious girls follow her, then they disappear. “Kisha!”, I yell again, suddenly remembering my best friend.
My hands are clenched against my pillow, knuckles white in the moonlight. It was just a dream. But it was SO vivid! I wonder what it meant… but I might as well just go back to bed and figure it out in the morning…
Beep! Beep! Beep! My alarm clock blares against my tired ears, and my head aches. I feel like I’m forgetting something, but I can’t remember what… I’ll just go back to bed… “Amelia! Wake up!”, my mom yells from downstairs, and I quickly scurry down the stairs, still in my pajamas.
Today is Thursday, and that means mom makes the entire family pancakes for breakfast, even me! When I stomp down the last stair, something unexpected lies where my pancakes should be. Everyone else is gobbling down their pancakes, except for my mom, who is staring me down. “What is this, Amelia?”. While she talks, she spins a batter spoon around, and with that and her thick eyebrows and big nose, she looks comical. I try my best to restrain a laugh building up inside of me. I realize she means the mysterious letter on my spot at the table. “I don’t know, mother, I just woke up.”, I try to use my most innocent voice, so she knows that I’m not lying. “Well, I found it here when I woke up at six this morning, so you must have something to do with it,”. she hurumphs at the end of her sentence, adding to the doltish way she looks. “Mary, I saw it at our mailbox last night, and dropped it off here, I guess I forgot to tell you.”, My dad saves me, he’s always doing that… When I came out, he supported me behind mom’s back. And he’s always been saving me in these precarious circumstances. “Well, I, I… that’s fine then.”, my mom stutters. Mom NEVER admits when she’s wrong. I look over to the pancakes on the griddle. “Wow, mother, those look great!”, I exclaim. they really do, I can smell them from across the kitchen.
Mom’s like a volcano, always different. She makes me call her mother, but hates being proper. One second she’ll be nice, one second she’ll be malicious. You never know with her… right now, it seems, she’ll change her demeanor. “let me get them for you.” She grabs my favorite plate (the one with the witch hat on it), and puts four pancakes on it. Then, she snatches the maple syrup, and gives the pancakes a healthy serving of it, just the way I like it. “Thanks, mother,” I say as cheerfully as I can manage.
This is going to be a long day.
Two.
Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong. My eyes creek open, trying to find my phone to turn off my alarm. Bong. Bong. Bong. My legs swing over my bed, while my eyes search for my phone. I catch a glimpse of my only bedroom window; the sun is still coming up in a polychromatic flurry of a sunrise, and there’s not a cloud in the sky, it’s a beautiful way to start the day. Bong. Bong. Bong. Ugh! Where is my stupid phone!? I stand up to find it and immediately regret it… because I hear a crackkkkkkk of a breaking phone screen under my feet. Pain shoots up my foot, and I look down to see a not-so-pretty sight. My right foot has fully broken through the screen of my old phone, while the shards of the phone screen are embedded in the ball of my foot. A small pool of blood is starting to seep into my rug. The pain suddenly intensifies, as if trying to punish me. I need help to clean this up! “Mom, I hurt myself, can you help me clean it?” I sit back on my bed, taking some of the weight and pain away from my foot. I turn my foot towards me, so I can attempt to pull out the big shards of glass. I feel around my bloody feet, tearing the shards out, and trying not to yell as I do. I try to get the rest of the shards out, but there are still some stuck in my foot where I can’t see. I hear someone thumping down the hall. It’s mom, thank god! But as the person gets closer to my room, I smell the sour smell of cigarettes and liquor combined. Mom doesn’t smoke or drink, or so I thought... Because it can’t be someone else, can it…right? Thump, thump, thump. They’re getting closer… “mom, is that you?” I ask in a concerned tone, my voice lilting at the end of my sentence. A gruff, angry voice responds; “sweetie, your mom isn’t with us anymore”, the man chuckles at the end of his sentence. My body is suddenly frozen in place, and I can’t seem to breathe. Suddenly, the fire in my foot doesn’t hurt anymore. Nothing does. What does he mean, my mom isn’t here anymore? He can’t mean… well he couldn’t mean she’s dead… right? She’s probably just out of the apartment, working on her blog. The man crashes down my bedroom door, and he’s more fearsome-looking than I thought. He has scars running up and down his face, huge black combat boots on what I imagine, huge, grotesque feet. His clothes are all mismatched and torn, and he only has a few yellow teeth and a couple scraggly hairs on his head. He looks older than I expected. Maybe, mid-sixties. Too late, I notice his right hand holds a metal bat. Oh, no… “goodnight, princess.” His bat comes swinging towards me, then all I see is black.
While I’m unconscious, I dream;
It’s about a year ago, I’m fifteen, and at swim team. I was always the best at swimming, the coach, Lían, always said I was a natural. When I’m swimming, I’m detached from my surroundings, and detached from my crippling life. I came to swim team that day with so much confidence;
“Hey, Ash!” “Hi, zaya!” “You gonna kick my butt again at drills?” Zaya says teasingly, “yup!” I responded.
Later, when we were halfway through warmups, a new girl arrived. She doesn’t answer our questions about her name or who she is. She just gets in the pool and starts the warm up. Flawlessly. Fast. Faster than me. No one is faster than me…. Or that’s what I thought. For the rest of practice, I tried to best her, but, eventually, I had to admit that she was better than me. From then she came to swim team, beating records and MY times. She only talked once, when she told me her name… and now I forget it. The memory ends as soon as it begins, and my sight retreats back into darkness…
“Is she still unconscious?”, a squeaky voice asks. “Yes. The disguise worked as well, she won’t know my real face or voice… is she okay? I hit her pretty hard on the head…”, the second voice trails off. It seems familiar, but I can’t place where it comes from. The voices drift in and out of my head, along with snippets of their conversation. “The notes are getting worse!” “The director is mad…” “straight jacket” “hallucinations” “tumor” “CIA”. The last one startles me, and I start to pay attention to my surroundings.
Three
“Wake up or I’m going to eat allll the muffins!!!” my little brother exclaims. I rush downstairs, out of my room, to get the chocolate muffins before my brother does, my hand pushing his shoulder backwards to get ahead of him. Instead of running into my kitchen, I’m in the sky. My little brother also flies up into the sky, his dirty hands flailing around. “Raven!!! It hurts! Someone’s hurting me!” He screams into the air, screeching for help. I reach towards him, but I’m stuck, unable to move, watching him shriek in agony, his eyes rolling up into his head as he loses consciousness. Suddenly, Arella is floating in the sky next to me. I scream, memories of her flooding back, her smoke, seeping through into the floorboards, her laughter, twisted and broken, her eyes, always so critical.
Suddenly, everyone in the sky dissipates, leaving Arella and I alone in the twilight, her polychromatic eyes locked on my dull brown ones. I’m frozen in place, adrenaline coursing through my veins, not able to comprehend what is happening. “Lehakriv, you must find the others,” she says, voice rasping, like her body doesn’t have enough oxygen or strength to speak, but she keeps talking, “find the Red Dresses, find Eliz-“ Suddenly, she’s flying away from me, as if on a leash, being pulled by someone… She looks at me pleadingly, as if trying to apologize. Instantaneously, the sky falls down, and I’m screaming, eyes open, in my bed.
My knuckles, white with fear, clenched on my blanket. My voice cuts off as I realize that I’m not alone. I put my head into my hands, trying to control my breathing. I try to thwart my worrying thoughts. This has been the third night in a row I have had this nightmare. Three nights of pain, three days of rubbing my eyes, three days of Arella’s face haunting me every time I close my eyes. My eyes are pink and purple rimmed, exhaustion reeking from every one of my pores.
I lumber through the old halls, my muscle memory alone keeping me from stepping on the rusty nails scattered throughout the floors.
THE RED DRESSES MASTERPOST
Multiple POV. Fantasy. Little things start going wrong in each of their universe's. Cracks are splitting everything apart. Their happily ever afters are gone. They'll have to team up to stop the Red Dresses before it's too late.
-CHAPTER ONE-
-CHAPTER TWO-
-WRITING MASTERPOST-
VAGGIE BRAINWASHED AU MASTERPOST
All characters belong to Spindlehorse and Vizviepop. I do not support Vizviepop.
Vaggi's POV. Timeline somewhere in the first season. Something's wrong with Vaggi and she can't figure it out.
-CHAPTER ONE-
-WRITING MASTERPOST-
MARA chapter one
-WRITING MASTERPOST-
-CHAPTER TWO-
-MARA MASTERPOST-
TW's: death, depressed thoughts, manipulation.
Chapter one
Mara
I still don’t understand this world. Riots are supposed to be peaceful. They were supposed to make us reunite. Instead they ravaged the world. There were riots for peace and then wars upon wars, and death. Bodies everywhere. People of every demographic piled on the ground. Soon Earth was a waste land. It became evident that earth was in no condition to support human life, but the rich were able to escape. Rocket ships, filled with hundreds of the wealthy, flew to new planets years away. All while we were left to rot. And when those on the planets began to develop powers, some of us did too. There is a reason some of us have powers. We are chosen to fight for the rest of us. To fight for freedom. To fight for equity.
***
Leichan
“Leichan? Honey?” “Yes, mom?” “Remember to hang up your gas mask, it needs to recharge.” Every single day, since I can remember, my mom has reminded me to hang up my gas mask at the door. I sigh; “I already did, mom.” I head to my room, grabbing a piece of sourdough bread before I do. I need to plan. I flop down on my hard mattress and try to plan something, anything, that could save her.
Mara is so convinced that her powers are a good thing, that the creatures she’s been seeing lately are helping her fine tune her arcane. I know better than to believe her excuses. I know her mentors are demons. Ravaged faces, claws, swathed in the element they work in. They only show up near Mara, and only when they believe they’re alone.
Plan. Think! …But I’ve never been the intellect, Mara is. She’s everything. She’s my everything. She says she still loves me, but she won’t let me help, she doesn’t try to make me understand. I tear my fingers through my hair, food forgotten.
Think. I need to plan.
***
Landon
Bang! The bullet hits just above the marker. I grimace. What’s wrong with me? Usually I score perfectly at training. I take in a deep breath and try again. Bang! It misses the target completely this time. Everyone is staring at me. I would, too.
I was the captain. I never missed a target, never lost a match, always drew first blood. Then that new girl and her clingy little boyfriend showed up. On the first day, she didn’t even break a sweat. She hit every mark. She won a fencing match. She had precision with a blade I thought impossible. Fæin made them co-captains after a fortnight of perfection. Since then I just…can’t do it anymore. Landon Sertoip, noble, dethroned by a nobody seventeen-year-old.
***
Mara
“Meredith?” I call out again, louder this time. “Meredith, are you here?” A dust devil swirls out from behind me. The dust melds into the structure, forming the body of my mentor. I don’t understand why she chooses to shift into the form of an old woman, but it suits her nevertheless. Her tight white bun never changes, nor does her hunched back or crinkled face. Her eyes are a different story. Luminous, color changing, always a different hue. Twinkling with the knowledge she has accumulated over the centuries.
“I am here, child. You must learn to be patient. For our plan to work, you must learn to see what cannot be seen, life through the unlivable, love who you can never hold.” I’m used to her riddles and poetic ramblings. “Sure,” I say, “but who needs patience when you have power?” I twist my emotions together, pushing the energy to my hands. Darkness seeped out of every pore, wrapping around me, waiting for instructions. It is bloodthirsty, waiting to feed on its next victim. Every time I summon the darkness, it becomes harder to control. It’s not as if I would ever admit that to Meredith. If she even suspected my striving, she would cut my power off altogether.
“You can’t rush greatness.” We say in tandem. It is her catchphrase and my internal warning. If I get too messy, if I lose control, all of our sessions will have been for nothing. Leichan already worries enough. Whenever I call the darkness, wherever it comes from, I’m okay again. I’m in control. I’m powerful. I’m better. The shadows whispers in my ear and praises my efforts. I force the darkness back into me, and my body immediately stiffens. My joints begin to ache, a headache starts to pound. I try to smile. It was worth it to feel those fleeting seconds of freedom. It always is.
***
Osla
“Os? Os, can you hear me? Don’t leave me, I need you!” Mara, impossibly far away, is being dragged away, I can’t see by who. I keep running, I have to catch up to her, yet I know my efforts are in vain. “I’m coming, Mara, wait for me!” Her body begins to glow in a faint red aura, and blood is coming out of her eyes in waterfalls. “Save me, Os!” Mara's body goes limp, and she dissipates. I fall to the ground, my tears choking up my ragged breaths, my gas mask struggling to supply oxygen in time for my next breath…
“Os? Can you hear me? Honey, wake up!”. My eyes flutter open, and I realize it was just a dream. Though something was different, it was so vivid, I could practically taste my tears running down my face…and ugh, I’m covered in cold sweat. “Honey, was it another nightmare? You were screaming.” Shoot. How am I going to explain this? “It was nothing, mom, I already forgot it.” I try to sound as cheerful as possible, though I know my mom won’t believe me. “Uh-huh. Well, you need to go find your sister again… she has school and training, and so do you.” I sigh so dramatically that it could've won me awards. Unlike my sister, training is a hated ritual for me. School is fine, but I would rather sleep in.
Nevertheless, I jump out of bed, ready to start another day.
I pull on some stockings, a t-shirt, and grab my gas mask. I’m about to open the door, when I noticed Mara's gas mask next to mom’s shoes. Oh no… Mara. I push my gas mask into place, and ignore mom’s questions as to where I'm running off to. I pump my legs as fast as possible, my eyes sweeping over the desert wastelands, hoping for any sign of life, of Mara.
I head to the Crimson Caverns, where Mara usually escapes off to. I start to choke on my tears. No one noticed when she left. For all I know, my sister could already be dead. Finally, a few hundred feet away, I spot two silhouettes. I force myself to run more quickly, panting hard into my mask as it struggles to supply safe air. Mara comes into focus, wearing mom’s gas mask. I stop running and bend over, trying to calm my breathing and stop crying before I get to her. This is so embarrassing. Mara would never stop making fun of me if she finds out I’ve been crying. I suck in one more breath before I stand back up and walk up to Mara. The second silhouette has disappeared. I was probably just seeing double through my tears. I wave weekly to Mara. “Hey.”
***
***
Mara
Ugh. I love my sister, but Meredith takes precedence right now.
BEEP! BEEP! Oh no, not again. The noise is the announcers, telling us something “important”. Last time it was about some celebrity on Earth 19, who cheated on his wife. It feels like the announcers are just trying to piss us off. When the reports happen, we have to go to the meeting area. It’s an old arena with megaphones blasting reports in the middle. The chairs are ancient and dusty, and rattlesnakes have been known to live there. But it’s mandatory- so I grab Olsa’s hand and rush her to the reporting area, yet we still barely make it in time. The only open seats are right next to the Nobles section.
We call them Nobles because that’s how they view themselves. Decades ago, they were scientists brought to do experiments for their fellow rocket people. For better or for worse, the scientist’s rockets malfunctioned and left them here, where they’ve been since. They live in old mansions, employing us as butlers and maids, and see the rest of us as vermin.
“Can they hear me yet, Jimmy?” The reporter clears his throat. He's not the brightest tool in the shed. “Yes sir,” says Jimmy, his assistant. He rambles on about some rich couple in a fight on Earth 3. “And, wait- what?” The announcer's voice cuts off, and I can tell the reports are talking in private. Eventually, the microphone clicks back on; “The rockets are coming back to Earth 1, and will arrive twenty weeks from now. All people remaining on Earth 1, will be expected to clean up all the old houses, Nasa areas, and anything of use to the… rocket people.” The announcer clears his throat once more, stalling. “This is happening because the rocket people are restoring efforts to bring Earth 1 back to its ’former glory’. All who do not help the effort will have their gas masks taken away!”
No. This has gone too far. We slave to those on the rockets because of the ungodly powers they possess, but this is atrocious. To take away our gas masks because we didn’t clean some ancestor’s house the wrong way. And that's not even the worst part. If the rocket people are “restoring efforts” to fix Earth 1, they could’ve fixed our planet…maybe even since the beginning. Instead they leave us with gas masks and a mortality rate higher than any other planet. Because they can. Because everyone knows they are better than us.
Anger coils and tightens in my chest, seething, slithering. It takes everything in my will power to keep the darkness from covering everything. Everyone. Teach them a lesson, show them we are not powerless as they think. Then I hear one noble whisper to another; “ It serves them right, they don’t deserve to be special, they deserve to clean” My eyes begin to twitch. I clench my teeth and dig my fingers into my hands in bloody half-moons. A headache starts to form. I can’t hold the darkness back anymore, nor do I want to. Shadows take over my hands, and it’s wrapping around the rude noble’s neck. Distantly, I hear Osla scream, but I am too far gone. she bursts into sobs. I look around and people are staring everywhere. Children are screaming, people are running out the way. My vision clears. I finally see what I'm doing- I’m a monster. As bad as a noble. No, worse- I’m a demon. Leichan was right. I focus all of my mental strength on my hand, hoping and pleading the shadows clear. As they finally do, I breathe a sigh of relief, only to look at the Noble. They’re twitching in the aftermath of the shadow’s, and not in breath.
Oh no, I think dumbly. Then I knock some sense into myself and I run. Maybe if I hide away for long enough, people will forget that this all happened. I need to get out of the arena. My legs are aching, and so are my lungs, but I keep running. I’m almost out of the rows of seats when something sharp pierces my neck. Everything gets blurry…and everything goes black.
***
Leichan
I knew something was wrong with Mara, and now she’s in the hospital. After killing a noble. There’s only a few felonies on this planet, and that’s at the top of the list. Now I’m in the local hospital’s waiting room…“Leichan? Leichan S?” a nurse with pretty brown hair calls my name. I immediately shush her. “Sorry,” I say sheepishly. “ I’m just sensitive about my last name…”. She eyes me suspiciously before continuing. “Your… girlfriend wants to see you.” I blush scarlet red, and quickly put my head in my hands to hide it. No one has called us that for… a bit now. I follow her past the factures wing, past the heart wing, and into the… oh gods- the psychiatric wing. She leads me to room 342, and eyes me expectantly. I knock quietly on the door and then head in.
Mara looks bad-there’s no other word for it. She’s in a thin hospital gown, and her skin looks gray. Her hair is frizzed up, and a machine is hooked up to her arm. “Mara? Mara, can you hear me? Are you okay?” questions start gushing out of me as if I have no control over them. She doesn’t say a word, not even a murmur of a response. They probably did something to Mara, to make sure she doesn’t… kill again. She looks at me, with a sad smile on her face. “Who? Who are you, again?” Alarm bells go off in my mind. They wouldn’t dare. Memory wipes are only for emergencies, who would’ve ordered a memory wipe for Mara? Who could do that? A tear falls from my cheek, then another, and another, and they keep coming, I cry louder, and louder, not caring who can see me. “Oh, wait, Leichan! It’s you! Will you please explain what’s going on to me?” Wait a second- memory wipes are permanent. she wouldn’t remember me, unless- MARA! “You’re kidding aren’t you?” I say impatiently. “you should’ve seen your face! It was perfect! Can you do again?!” She says, bursting into laughter. I’m mad for her making fun of me, but- so, so relieved. Yes, she did something horrible, but she’s Mara. There’s got to be a good reason why. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just make your face,” I say, and muster up the worst face I can imagine. This feels like before all of the power’s drama started. Just Mara and I, joking around…except she’s in the hospital classified as a lunatic, and, well, I’m the same as always. “So…” I start. “sooo?” She copies. “What did they do to you? The doctors, I mean.” I’ve gotta know if they fixed her… “oh, well, they did a scan, and apparently the entire problem was a brain tumor!”. Wait, what? I don’t pay attention during science class, or any class, but Mara's really smart, she always helps me with tests and stuff. I ask her what it is, and this “tumor” was pushing down on her brain, which made her act weird. It pushed too hard, and she went out of control, no demons to speak of… yet. The doctors did a brain surgery and removed it, so potentially she should be fine now. She explained that even though she had no control of what she did, she still killed someone, so… she’s going to be in the… mental wing. Oh god, this is messed up.
***
Landon
The new girl went crazy. Or, that’s what my friends are telling me. She killed someone, with crazy magical powers. It’s not fair that some of us get powers the Rocket people discovered and the rest are…normal. At least now that she’s in the hospital, and her soggy little boyfriend is depressed right by her, I’m taking the lead.
After training, I’m the first one to make it back to the locker rooms, and I definitely need to take a shower- now. But at my locker there’s a note;
“hi, cutie, meet me behind the training building for a big surprise.”
-M-
Huh. M. Who could that be? The only person I know with a “M” in their is Mara, and she’s not going anywhere- anytime soon. Still, a secret admirer is a mystery I’m going to solve.
After my shower I make my way behind the building to see someone I wasn’t expecting. Instead of seeing a new girl, I see someone I’ve never seen before. They have fiery, red hair, straightened, and down to their waist. Their lips match their hair, and they have defined cheekbones. Their lashes and glistening with what look like… crystals? And their figure is… tempting. The only part of her that’s bland is the color of her eyes. Grey. Not like dew or fresh rain, just smog grey.
“Hey gorgeous. What are you doing here?” I ask, trying not giving my confusion away. “I wanted to get your attention, and I guess I succeeded.” She says, flicking a stray strand of hair back. She definitely succeeded… “Why did you want my attention?” I push my dark hair out of my face, and quickly restyle it. This is getting really weird. “I like you, and I wanted to know more about you, if you were interested…” She has a slight accent, and her voice lilts at the end of the sentence. “Sure,” I say. “When are you free?” “How about this Friday?” I suggest. I’ve never seen her before, and here we know everybody, so this will give me two days to investigate who she is. And besides, it’s not like she’s going to hurt me. “That works for me, see you then” she starts to walk away, her hair swishing back and forth as she goes… but wait! “Before you go, what’s your name?” I call after her. “Oh, well, It’s kind of an old name… but my name is Meredith.” Meredith, I think. Where have I heard that before…?
***
Mara
Ugh. Why did I lie to Leichan? He's the only person who would understand. Yes, I did have a brain tumor or something, but that wasn’t it… and I need answers. Whatever happened at the arena wasn’t…me. Yes it was my powers, my fury. But I couldn’t wouldn’t kill somebody. I wasn’t in control of my body, myself, my powers, anything, when I attacked that Noble. Maybe I should’ve told Meredith I was, that I am struggling. But she needs to own up to her secrets as well. I never thought I was powerful enough to touch anyone. I thought my shadows could be a barrier, a force field. I never thought of it as a weapon. Maybe I should have though…I killed someone. Someone arrogant-but a someone nevertheless. A someone with a family and a life and a someone that will never come home again.
I wallow in my guilt and shock until Os and mom come to visit me. I wipe a fresh wave of tears from my face. When they ask how I’m doing I don’t respond. What is there to say? I am so tired. Mom wraps her arms around me, and I cry and cry until my breathing is ragged and I have no more tears to give. They think the tumour is the problem as well. Only I know the truth. Because the problem isn’t physical. I’m the problem.
***
MARA MASTERPOST
sci-fi, fantasyque world. One girl with ruined relationships and a brain tumour might be able to save everyone, if she doesn't kill them all in the process.
-CHAPTER ONE-
-WRITING MASTERPOST-
VAGGIE BRAINWASHED AU
All characters belong to Spindlehorse and Vizviepop. I do not support Vizviepop.
TW's: brainwashed/ corrupted POV of religion. Swearing, Angeldust being Angeldust, mentions of drugs.
-WRITING MASTERPOST-
-PART TWO-
“Vaggie? Honey, are you feeling all right?” Yes. I am fine. Nothing’s wrong. But for the first time in a long time, I wish I was wearing my angelic uniform again. My dress suddenly feels too tight. My long hair scratches me uncomfortably. I ache for pockets to put my fisted hands into.
But am I okay? Staring into Charlie’s eyes, the eyes that have never judged me, I want to tell her everything, something. I open my mouth, but the words are stolen away. I’m overcome with a sudden migraine, words in my head screaming at me over and over. “A fool’s mouth is his ruin, and his lips are a snare to his soul.” Proverb 18:7. Every quote, every justification, every verse of the bible is ingrained into our minds. I can’t think. The pain, the words, I feel like nothing else exists except for them. I give in to the rupturing voices in my head.
“I’m fine, Charlie,” my voice is harsh, off putting. “Leave it alone.” I turn away from her, not listening to her response, not caring. “A fool’s mouth is his ruin, and his lips are a snare to his soul.” “ As soon as I turn the corner, I run. “A fool’s mouth is his ruin, and his lips are a snare to his soul.” Back to our room. I tear apart our room, searching, needing to find it. I finally find the crack behind the cabinet and squeeze out the bible from inside the secret compartment. The second I feel the leather cover, the migraine subsides. I flip through the Old Testament, to the mid-seven hundreds. Proverbs 18:7. I take in the carefully memorized words, jumping at every near-coming noise like someone might discover my clandestine book I pretended to lose years ago, pretended to forget about years ago.
When I am holding this sacred book, these holy words, I am safe again. Safe from the nightmares that almost feel real, safe from the migraines, safe from the voices, safe from my girlfriend, who just can’t understand this part of me.
I take a deep breath and try to pull myself together. Looking over at the clock, another wave of panic hits me. Oh no. 6:00 PM. I missed the entire afternoon. I had hosting duty at four, and Charlie was so excited to pitch me her new idea about hotel merchandise. Honestly, I thought the entire idea was BS. Who in their right mind would buy things from the Hazbin Hotel? What would they even buy? Standees of the employees? Sweatshirts in Angel Dust’s style? I don’t think so. But at least I should have been there to let her down gently.
I shower quickly and pull my hair into a tight bun. No time for taking care of my frivolous hair tonight. I pull on my clothes from before, and after tracing the cover of my bible one last time, I shove it back in the secret compartment.
I check the activity planner Charlie set up on my phone. I’m supposed to be helping her make dinner… three minutes ago. Shit. Another thing I forgot.
As I make my way down the stairway to the kitchen, I try to think of a good excuse apology. What could I even say? She was almost done with me when she found out about my past, and this is even more complicated. I shouldn’t tell her...yet. Maybe one day I’ll be able to say the right words to make sense of this, but that’s not going to be anytime soon.
“Vagsssssss!” Angel Dust calls from the lounge. “Where have you been all day?” He tilts his head back to me, eyes wide and slightly bloodshot. “Fuck off.” I know Angel’s going through some stuff, but he can’t come in here high and start poking his nose in my business. “Sure, Vags! Great idea!” He bounds off the couch and starts towards Husk. Poor guy.
I sign deeply and push open the huge french doors to the kitchen. Charlie’s elbow-deep in flour, singing, while a cake is burning in the oven, and her magic zips all over, trying to reign in her constant mess.
“Hey.” I start, still in awe of the mess she made only in a few minutes. Charlie turns her neck to face me, but doesn’t move her body, reminding me frighteningly of Alastor. “How can I help?” I ask. Sweat starts to drip down my neck. I screwed up bad.
ERIS- a pride month peek on Euclid
-ERIS MASTERPOST-
ohhhhhhhhhhhh... shiny sneak peak!!!!!!
“HAPPY GAY MONTH YOU BORING STRAIGHT PEOPLES!!!!!” Ray yells across the room. She grips my hand as we make our entrance into the lounge. Irene and Luc roll their eyes from across the room, daintily sipping their ginger-lemon tea and holding hands. Eleni flushes deeply and tries to hide behind her hair, almost like she thinks we don’t know about her sexuality. Judas doesn’t speak, as per usual- we all have our suspicions, but for all we know, they could be straight as a needle.
“I’m not straight.” Wide eyes and open mouths turn to face Euclid, mine included. Then he continues to sip his black coffee, as if he hadn’t just said what he did. A few strands of jet black hair fall into his eyes as he picks up the daily newspaper.
“Wait what.” Ray, for the first time, doesn’t have words. “I mean, I thought you just…didn’t exist…in romantic situations…” “Mmmmmm. That’s hilarious." says Judas in a dry, sarcastic tone. Then they nod to the split of Aidoneous. “We were together for a few centuries.” says Euclid, nodding back to Judas.
“Darling?” asks Euclid, offering his arm out to our boss. “Don’t mind if I do.” Judas responds. Then the two walk out of the lounge, arms linked, smiling at each other.
“...Que diable s'est-il passé ?” says Luc, slipping into French in his astoundment. Even with my limited French, I understand his sentiment completely.
“What. The. Hell.” says Eleni. Her eyes are burning a hole through the doorway, her perfect composure dead and gone. “Darling?” I hear myself echo. “Judas has a pet name?”
“Do you think theys could be erm…pranking us?” asks Iréne in her broken English.
“Oh, definitely,” replies Ray. “But wouldn’t it be much more entertaining if they weren’t?” she drops my hand and darts running her hand through her perfectly curated hair in chaotic excitement. “Becuase if I'm right, and I’m always right,” I conveniently cough, interrupting her. “Almost always right,” she corrects herself. “I’m the only one here who hasn’t fallen for Judas to meet a cold, hard, wall…meaning of course I haven’t fallen for Judas. Which would make y’all feel incredibly inadequate right now and-” she looks around “I’m going to stop talking now.” she gulps deeply.
ERIS MASTERPOST
An original Greek mythology/ dark romantasy story. Characters based off my friends. You're welcome to give suggestions/critique, but please be nice to me!
-CHAPTER ONE-
-CHAPTER TWO-
-A PRIDE MONTH PEEK ON EUCLID-
ERIS chapter two
TW's: screaming.
-CHAPTER ONE-
-WRITING MASTERPOST-
Chapter Two - Enyo
I wake to the sound of scuffling. I sit up in bed and yank my eyes open. Ray is not-so-quietly being quiet around the room, getting ready for the day. She spots me watching her and laughs. “I guess I’m never going to be a spy, huh?” She says, grinning. “How’re you feeling today? Dealing with the news and all…” the smile runs away from her face. “Okay,” I say. Understatement of the year. I feel better rested than yesterday, but everything still feels so raw. My family is gone. My old life is wrong. I’m being possessed by the embodiment of chaos. I’m definitely not okay.
“Well…at least I have some good news for you!” Ray says, stopping to read my expression. “I convinced Eleni to postpone your dinner until next week! Now you can just take some time to…adjust.” “Wait. Isn't Judas in control of…whatever this is?” I ask. “Obviously. But Eleni is Judas’s right hand. I almost think they’re more than just partners, though…” her voice trails off. “Oh! I also got the week off from my assignments, so I can kind of be your guide!” Ray saunters over to the other side of the room, and picks up the tote bag from last night. “Okay, so a couple things before I give you the whole tour. One, I suggest for everyone here to keep a journal to help with mental health stuff. Secondly, I promise to answer all your questions, but first! You need to get ready. Not like you don’t look great in the I-just-woke-up look, but it might not be the best first impression.” I look down and regard myself with slight disgust. “Um…where do I?” “Here, I got you some clothes from a Rhapso kid, and I hope this is the type of thing you like to wear? Sorry, I was just guessing.” Ray hands me the tote bag. “And your bathroom is the first pink colored door to the right. Take as long as you’d like!” Huh. This is a weirdly normal interaction for someone I've only known for a few hours, and almost killed the day before.
I begin to giggle on my way to the bathroom from the insanity of it all, but Ray doesn't seem to notice. I walk inside the bathroom, and immediately close the door. I’m still not sure this is all a terrible dream. Thankfully, the door has a lock on it, but the paranoia has set in. I don’t know these people. There could be cameras in here for all I know. But wait- aren’t they ancient Greek Gods? What technology do they even use? I realize I'm breathing very quickly, and clench the rose-colored sink as tightly as possible, trying to regain some sense of control. I breathe deeply a few times, and look up at the sink. I try to memorize my eyes. Black pupil, yellow rimmed with green, and a ring of gray around the border of my iris.
When I finally feel calmed down, I start to snoop around the bathroom. I tell myself it’s to find shower materials, but I can’t ignore the little paranoid voice saying; “Cameras! Cameras!” like a little gremlin in my brain. The bathroom is huge, almost rivaling my room, with a bathtub the size of a full bed, a separate shower, a hot tub (who even needs a private hot tub?!), a full vanity with boxes already set on top of it, the sink, full length mirrors surrounding the vanity, and racks filled with robes in every pastel color on the opposite side.
I set down the bag on the right side of the vanity and get to work going through the boxes. The first is filled with perfumes of every kind, from French vanilla bean (ew), to banana taffy (who in their right mind would wear that?), to one I absolutely loved, called Southern Gardenia. It reminded me of running around barefoot and carefree on warm pavement in the summers, aromatic flowers filling the air, playing with my sister. Before my love for her twisted into hate, before she became a brat. Before all of this. I take another deep breath to save my watery eyes from leaking over, and take the perfume out, before closing the box.
“Okay, that’s enough snooping for now.” I say quietly, and decide to rummage through the bag to see what Ray left me. It’s not much, just shampoo, conditioner; the shower works, and some clothes. An oversized hoodie in black, with a kajillion pockets that’s somehow soft, breathable and stylish!? Plus a pair of blue skinny jeans. Not bad for a total stranger. I rack up a mental point for Ray becoming an actual friend of mine.
I had planned to shower quickly, but I found myself taking my time, relaxing in the hot pricks of water. I come out of the bathroom a few hours later, smelling like Southern Gardenia. Ray is still on my bed, tossing a transparent prism up and down. “Oh! You’re out!” She says as she looks up at me, and puts the prism down.
I take a deep breath. “So… about last night…” I start, surprised by her answer; “first nights are hard. No one has to know unless you want to.” She stays , and I look at my feet. What do you say to someone who’s so kind but so- new to you? “Hey Ray? Can I ask you a few more questions?” “Sure.” I plop down on the bed and I proceed to ask a string of answers that she answers perfectly; “how old is this place?” “As old as Judas, maybe even more bygone than that.” “Why does everyone speak Greek here?” “It comes naturally over time. Some even learn other languages from other main religions during their time of “normal life”. You got your eyes very early on. “Eyes” are what we call learning your languages, but sometimes your eyes will literally change color when using your powers in an ancient language,” Ray even explained the more personal questions, like why she was so bruised yesterday. “I have split gods. I am a mix of Momus and Aclepius. Aclepius is the god of medicine and healing, and whenever I touch someone, I can choose to heal them, either by physical wounds or mental ones. Momus is the god of Irony, and because of that, every time I heal, I receive the wounds on my own skin, and I can’t control that aspect of my powers, so…yeah. It’s why I wear the clothing I do in public. To remind myself of the price I pay for others.” she finishes lamely, and I almost wished I hadn’t asked. Curiosity killed the budding friendship, I think glumly.
Then my stomach rumbles in agreement, and I realize I haven’t eaten in a few days now, when all of this started. Ray looks at me, and laughs, previous mood forgotten entirely. “Come on, let’s get some food!” She then bounds off to her bathroom on the right, and comes out a few minutes later in another glittery outfit made of an ombré of reds and oranges that match her hair.
She opens the doorknob and gestures after me to come with her. “Wait what?” I wonder aloud. The hallway that yesterday was covered in lightbulb roses and black wallpaper is now sunset blue and orange, with splotches of gray clouds intruding on the pattern. “Oh yeah.” Ray says, waving her hand dismissively. “The theme of the house changes depending on Judas’s mood.” she said, as if she wasn’t explaining an entirely magical idea like it was the weather. “It’s like The House is a Judas mood ring. On the bright side, we know what to expect.” Huh. That’s all I could think about the idea. It must be weird to have your emotions on display. That would suck. You could never lie, or hide your true emotions. I blink a few times and lift myself from my musings, and follow Ray down a corridor that I could swear wasn’t there the day before.
Slowly I start to smell cinnamon and something tropical and tangy. My stomach grumbles again, louder this time, and Ray laughs. “We’re almost there, I promise.” we come upon a gold and silver door, flecked with illustrations of food in an antique, clockwork style. I push open the door to find a beautifully furnished kitchen, stretching on and on in every dimension. Food layered the silver countertops, and two people in gold aprons were whipping something white and fluffy.
“Irène, les pâtisseries vont se séparer ; tu ne peux pas les mélanger avant d'ajouter la purée de mangue.” One says to the other, and I’m having Deja Vu, not understanding a word they say. “The brunette on the left is Irène, her god is Hestia, and her partner on the left is Luc, who is also a Hestia kid. They control baking throughout the house, if you haven’t noticed all of the food.”
A thought pops into my head. It’s ugly and strange, but I can’t help leaning in to Ray to ask “isn’t that like dating your cousin or something?” Ray laughs out loud, and I flush. “No, no, of course not. None of us are the exact same powers, and we are different parts of the gods. The people you share a god with are almost like…other singers in a school of musical talents. Similar interests, but completely different personalities and genetics. Eww, no.” she laughs again, and the two look up to see Ray wheezing out another laugh while I just stand awkwardly. The person on the right- Luc, asks Ray something; “Ray, est-ce Eris ?” ohh. French. They speak French. Before I can ask Ray why Luc said something about Eris, Ray responds in perfect French. “Hé ! Elle est bien plus que son dieu. D'ailleurs, je crois qu'elle doit déjà faire face au tourment de Judas.” I look at Ray with my best please-tell-me-what’s-going-on-and-give-me-food-I’m-going-to-pass-out face. I think it works, because they stop speaking in French and Ray tells me to pick out whatever I want.
We spend the rest of the day wandering halls and rooms that seem to span forever. Ray told me Judas morbidly loved the story of Mintotaur and made The House similar to the Labyrinth; endless rooms, changing and twisting to your needs. Of course, The House isn't made to kill or is full of traps, but you should never travel alone in it, Ray said.
After somehow finding our way back to the kitchen at the end of the day, I grabbed a proper Meat & Three as quickly as possible, and we headed back to our room. Ray and I plop back down on my new bed, and start laughing. “Oh. My. Gods. Enyo. How are we going to live that down? We just have to never eat ever again, okay?” Ray says through giggles. I start to laugh harder imagining the scene again to my sarcastic horror. When we had come in for dinner (famished from skipping lunch), Luc had been holding Irène’s hand and saying something in a tone so sappy I absolutely knew we were interrupting something romantic. For her part, Ray had confirmed it the moment we left the kitchen, giggling and blushing after taking the food closest to us and sprinting out of the kitchen.
We spend the rest of the night talking and picking apart the brisket in my meal, because apparently Ray is the semi-feared matchmaker of the house. She went over the unofficial “rules” of the house; respect your elders, don’t try to fix psychopaths, and apparently there’s no Apollo kids. Ray suspects Apollo was too fractured mentally to split, and chose to keep all of his regret and grief and powers in one place.
“Oh!” Ray said with new enthusiasm, though it must've been past midnight. “Your dinner is next week! Are you excited?” “Wait a moment. Dinner? What does that mean?” I ask. “I told you about this earlier, remember? It’s basically a huge introduction to everybody in the House. You get questioned by the high table, everybody talks to you, and there is the best food you’ll ever eat! That’s why Luc and Irène looked so flustered today, they have to prepare everything in time.”
After that night, we began the planning for my dinner. The high table, as Ray called it, is where all of the leaders of The House sit, though Judas is, as Ray put it “the big nacho in charge”. I have to impress them with whatever powers I have already, but Ray says I’ll be fine because I came into my eyes so quickly. She also said to not trust my eyes with their ages because age works differently in The House. Juventus, for example, is over 300 years old, but owing to the fact his goddess is Hebe, he appears as a child most of the time.
The more we obsessed over the details of my dinner, the more I could pretend to forget the two nagging questions rolling over in my brain. The worst part was that I couldn’t decide which thought was worst: wondering where and what that strange hell-like realm was I dreamed about the night before I came to The House. And when I came into my eyes fully that first day at The House and almost killed Ray and Juventus, why did I feel like I wasn’t myself anymore? It’s a strange feeling to explain, like a semi-possession. I was aware of what I was doing, but I wasn't in control, and frankly, I didn't want to be.
*********
The next day, now my seventh day at The House, I decided to ask Ray about the semi-possession. She dismissed it and almost acted like it didn’t matter at all, much to my confusion. I didn’t have any more time to ask her about it, because a Rhapso person came bustling in the room to take my final measurement for my dinner dress. We spent the day going over final details; when to curtsy, which people have titles, and how to react to Judas.
To be honest, the thought of Judas made my stomach clench with anxiety. I didn’t know if I was just nervous, or if it was something more… but I told myself sternly it was the first option. Ray told me as much as she knew, which despite her depths of knowledge didn’t go as deeply as I thought it would. Judas was still somewhat of a mystery to The House, despite being the leader. Their age, god, and personal life was somewhat unknown, though it is said Judas has special connections with the eldest of the people in The House, and is extraordinarily powerful. Ray said they never missed a dinner, not even on their bad days, which I assumed happened quite frequently, by the way Ray talked about it.
That night, as I was putting on my eye makeup, I blurted out something I didn’t even know I was thinking about. “Is this death?” I paused and searched for an inkling of Ray’s reaction in the vanities mirror. “You said people never age. It seems like y’all never leave The House, and you’ve mentioned a few times that madness runs through The House with time.” “ I don’t know exactly. I guess I’ve never fully thought it through. Our mentality stays the same, and after time, years pass by like weeks. Your arrival is the most exciting thing to happen in a decade. I still feel fifteen internally, but that’s long gone…” Shocked, I turn away from the mirror and face a now flushed Ray in the mirror. “What do you mean; “long gone?” I thought you were my age?!” “I mean, I technically am, just not in years. I could choose to make my body and mentality age, but once you do, you can’t change your psyche back, and I’ve been too scared to try.” I place a hand on my still goopy, made up face. “Ray, please just tell me your age. Your real age. I’m your friend, you can trust me.” Ray scrunched up her nose and breathed in deeply before responding. “I turned fifteen in… 1987” 1987. I quickly do the math in my head, and wished I hadn’t. The eighties. A lot made sense right then; the weird catchphrases she would use then dismiss, her strange clothing, her makeup, even the wine-colored dress she’s wearing for my dinner. “Enyo.” I raise my hand to stop her. “It’s fine, Ray.” Even though it really wasn’t. “We’ll talk about this later.” And sashayed out the door in my dark dress.
It was covered in crow feathers, with diamond chains across the shoulders, and black tulle giving the front side of the skirt a gothy look. The top was a fitted black leather corset with ribs, and the tulle gathered at the back to make a train over the slight hoops. I wore thigh-high black leather boots underneath, and my hair was up in an intricate braid Ray had done earlier in the night. My makeup matched my dress with dark sparkles and severe eyeliner, which I thought made me look significantly older than my years, and to be honest, I thought I looked downright badass. It might be vain to enjoy playing goth-dress-up for dinner, but when you lose your family, way of life, and home in a week, you’re allowed to be a little vain.
“Enyo!” Ray called from back within the room; “you’re going the wrong way! Also, I’m supposed to escort you to the dining hall, even if you’re mad at me.” “Fine!” I huffed, and waited for Ray to scurry out of the room.
Her dress rivaled mine, with a layered off the shoulder look, and half of her hair braided tightly to give her a mysterious look. The dress fit slimly down to her waist, then slowly let out, proofing to five or so layers of fabric at the bottom, and strapped high heels. Her makeup was basic colors of red, but they glowed against her skin. If I hadn’t been angry with her, I would have called her stunning. I had half a mind to do it anyway.
She took my arm like an old-time beau, and led me down the opposite corridor than the one I had begun to take a moment ago. “Remember,” she whispered. “Never utter a word of English. Greek or Latin only. Not like most of us are Roman, anyway…Pretend you know what you’re doing. You’ve had an extra week to prepare, so you can’t take a red.” “Wow, no pressure then…” I mutter under my breath as we walk under two huge golden doors. What is with Judas and gold, I think, trying to stall. Making my grand entrance suddenly seemed more gut turning.
Ray doesn’t notice or doesn't care, because a moment later she pushes the doors wide open. Rows and rows upon rows of tables come into view. Each table had more than a dozen elaborately dressed people of varying ages. Each was wearing dress clothes of obscurities- feathers and headdresses and silks that flowed like water above their hair. I knew by now that fashions like these were a sign of power to the Gods, but when I walked past a man with a mullet made of fire, I still felt awe rising in my throat.
Ray led me for what seemed like ages, through what must have been hundreds and hundreds of people, at last reaching the front of the room where a huge golden table sat, adorned with red waxing candles and gem-encrusted silverware. Each seat was throned and huge, and each occupant glared down at Ray and I expectantly.
Thankfully, Ray had run down the customs of the Dinner on one of our first days to prepare. I bow deeply as Ray curtsies and then stand expectantly before them. I notice with apprehension that the main throne in the middle of the semicircle is empty. I quickly scan the faces and put the pieces together. Judas isn’t here.
“Enyo- single god of Eris. She is the only known split of Eris, and assumes most power and psyche of the goddess. Came into her eyes within a week.” Read aloud by one of the leaders. Tittering voices and whispers come to a stop as my information is read. Eleni stands, her throne to the right of the empty one, and bows. She’s followed by every other of the ten leaders at the table. I know Eleni of all people would never bow to me, so who-
Ray jabs me in the ribs and I turn around. Of course. My favorite mysterious leader in a heavy black and gold cloak walks down the aisle. No one seems to care that Judas is late, mayhaps they’re just too scared to speak up about it.
They walk to the front and take the middle seat. “prospathó” -Attease. Judas’s formality, Ray explained, just an engraved part of them, especially on major events like tonight. Ray hits me in the ribs again, harder this time, and we bow again. This is getting old.
“Pes mou, Énio, poia eínai i pio paliá sou anámnisi?” -Tell me, Enyo. What is your earliest memory? I can’t see their mouth move, but the voice gives Judas away. “I don’t know…” I reply in Greek. Think! “I don’t think I really have one…”
A tremor shakes through Judas’s body. “It isn’t you, then.” Judas says in a low, wrong tone. Then they’re gone. Literally gone. Judas erupts in a golden powder of what looks like sparkles.
This time I elbow Ray; “Is that also normal?” I ask her under my breath. “No. No it is not.” I look up and notice something a little off. “Hey Ray. When did Judas’s throne turn golden?” “What do you mean…golden.” Ray says, trailing off. I guess she didn’t notice the change until now as well. The throne Judas briefly occupied is now gold as the sun, shining brightly.
I look around the table of leaders, trying to figure out if they understand any of this more than I do. Eleni is whispering to the leader on the left of Judas’s throne. They have jet black hair cut short, tanned skin, and is dressed immaculately in a black suit tailored in gold. Their hair falls into their eyes as they whisper something back. Then Eleni stands up.
“We shall continue the evening as before, without our leader. Please remain seated.” she says, addressing the crowd. Then the questioning begins again. None of it really consumes my attention, though. Only when I’m asked to display my powers do I snap back to reality.
I focus on my core, where a deep well of anger washes over everything. The lie of my family- from the hand my “mother” used against me, to the favoritism, to the godly betrayal that happened so recently to now. My vision begins to tunnel towards Judas’s throne, the implication of the person that’s caused me my most recent inner turmoil. Every emotion cracks through my body like lightning, searing and agonizing. The power rushes to my fingertips and I raise my hands upwards. The throne splits open and crows fly out of it. Not a couple crows, not a few dozen. Thousands. They push their way out the throne, flying high above everyone’s heads. Then they begin to attack. They steal food, rip gowns, and crash plates against the walls.
The leaders scramble out of their seats to get away from the crows, but no one is safe. The birds are chaos, and no rank is free from their evils. After a few minutes, I bore of the senseless chaos. “Come,” I call to my pets. They fly towards me from all directions, forming a whirlpool of shining black feathers and sharp, hard beaks.
The floor splits open forming a ring of darkness around the ring of floor that I stand on. The crows then dive into the hole, never to be seen again by the living. With one last push of my power, I force the holes in the floor to fix itself, the groaning floor fitting back together.
My hair is frazzled. My face is flushed with excitement and exhaustion, and my dress is ruined. I try to smooth my braid down before looking back up to the leaders. Eleni’s mouth is slightly ajar, and Juventus is trying to regain his dignity from an absolutely terrified look with no luck, just like most of the leaders. But the man left to Judas’s throne is smiling bemusedly, tanned hands folded.
“Quite an impressive show, Enyo.” he says, with an accent I can’t quite place. “Thank you general…” I try to reply, his name at the tip of my tongue. “Euclid is fine.” he responds curtly. Right. He must be the leader that Ray mentioned hated titles. What a great first impression. “I must admit that you are the first split I have seen in a long while to scare Juventus twice in a week.”
The rest of the dinner is gone in a blur. After my show of power and quick conversation with Euclid, Ray pulls me aside to sit for dinner, composed of Chilean Sea Bass, Caviar, Orzo and Bell peppers, and Endive leaves. I have never had anything half as expensive before. Ray giggles about my powers stunning Eleni and gushes about Judas’s mysterious disappearance with the other splits at our table. I focus on my food and watching Eleni rush out of the room as soon as my questioning is over. I wonder if she’s checking in with Judas, or something completely unrelated. It’s not like she and Judas are dating, Ray just thinks Eleni and Judas would have good chemistry.
Finally the night ends with Ray and I curtsying a final time to the rest of The House members and running back to our room. Well, Ray runs. “What’s wrong?” “These shoes are killing me! Whoever thought of kitten heels obviously never had to wear them,” I grumble. She laughs, tilting her head back. “Okay, okay, fine. Take them off and we’ll race back to our room!” “But I don’t know the way!” “Too bad, loser!” she begins sprinting down the suddenly carpeted floor. I run after her, relishing the feeling of free feet and freedom from all the judgemental eyes on me from earlier before.
We turn corners and burst through countless doors, not noticing the changes in the hallways until it’s too obvious to not see them. The walls turn from a modern, sleek black, to stone, to marble archways and columns. The ceiling lights higher and higher, the hallways expand. The carpet turns into marble as well, shining and slippery. But it’s only when we get back to our room do we begin to hear the screaming. Agonizing screaming fills the halls as we slip into our room and slam the door shut.
“Ray.” I say, momentarily forgetting my past anger and joy with her to embrace fear fullheartedly. “What is happening?” my voice trembles. “This is one of Judas’s bad nights. We’re due for one, anyway…” The door muffles most of the screaming, but not all of it. “Who’s screaming? Is someone hurt?” How can Ray be so calm about this? Someone’s screaming bloody murder and Ray’s treating it like this happens every Tuesday and 4:00 P.M. sharp. “No, It’s just part of the charm of The House. It projects Judas’s emotions, remember? with extreme emotions, voices come with it. We don’t know who’s screaming. It’s probably just ghosts or something. Trust me, no one here is hurt.” Even if it’s just restless ghosts, the screaming stirs something in me that hurts. “I need to take a shower. I’ll see you later.” “Sure. Goodnight Enyo.” Ray bunches up her hair in a messy ponytail and takes off her heels as I enter the bathroom.
The little prism I saw Ray using my first day at the house is beeping loudly in the bathroom. I pick it up and push open the bathroom door again. “Hey Ray, your thingy is beeping. What’s going on?”
“Oh no.” she says in a hushed tone, her relaxed position forgotten. She throws open a cabinet and grabs a bag brimming with elixirs. “Ray?” I try a second time.
She looks me straight in the eyes before running out of the room. “If you ever hear that beeping, someone is dying.”
