Not sure what to say so uh. I'm Rook. I'm a postgrad at nunya college of business hah. You keep your secrets and I'll keep mine.
Oh. And Bishop is here too now. Long story short.. they were impersonating me for a bit. And then they got into trouble with some group called the DMS. And now we're stuck together in this. So.. this is a shared blog now.
—⚜️ Rook
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Heya!! this is the offical blog for the Rook and Bishop anons!! There might be additions to this pin if I think of anything, bleh :P
Anything that me, the mod, KRR/Rookidee, says will be in red text!! Actual Rook and Bishop posts and stuff will be normal!
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Tags:
#rook responds - Rook's responses to asks
#Rookidee rambles - meee :D will also be tagged with #modposting!
#♟️Bishop - Bishop's responses to asks and posts
#checkmate - lore posts!!
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Character art !! They have references now!
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All characters are found in the @kintsugi-timeline!
I fear they have already done a much better job than I can here. However, the main two are:
Trigger Warnings: Mentions of a car crash, temporary PTSD / flashbacks
[ start transcript ]
It had been a while since they met up in this weird dreamspace. The horse was tied up at the entrance of the cave, Rook and Bishop both coming back after nearly dying from a creeper, almost being pushed into lava, and a close call with a baby zombie.
Bishop huffed, letting out an exhausted shout as they saw the daylight ahead.
“Oh, FINALLY!!”
Bishop hopped the rest of the way out of the cave's entrance, flopping onto the grass beneath them. “I thought we'd never see the sun again..”
Rook hummed, placing down a crafting table and a few furnaces, starting to smelt the stuff they ran out of coal for with some logs they gathered from the nearby trees. “We had to be down there for a while. It's almost nighttime again.”
Bishop groaned in response. They pushed themself up to their knees, then stood up, walking over to Rook. God, it was still weird to know that this was.. Rook. The clothing was different, the eyes were different, the haircut was different.. but it was Rook. I would always recognize them.
Bishop shook the thought away. Not right now. They dug through their inventory, pulling out a few diamonds and holding them out. “Here, take these—you can make a sword with them.”
Rook turned to look over at Bishop, seeing the diamonds offered to them. They took two of them, a small whimsical feeling going through them as a thought occurred. They hadn't gotten any diamonds on the mining trip for themself.
There would've been an achievement for this.
“Thanks.”
Rook crafted a diamond sword and then a shield, breaking the table and collecting the rest of the materials from the furnaces. They managed to put on a golden chestplate as Bishop replaced theirs with a diamond one instead, tossing the broken gold armor out.
“Ready to hit the road again before the mobs start spawning?” Bishop asked, glancing at the sun starting to lower again.
“Yeah, just give me a sec,” Rook said, breaking the furnaces too and walking over to the horse and Bishop.
Bishop climbed on first, offering Rook a helping hand as they settled on the horse together. Bishop eased the animal forward, starting to walk through the forest and back out into the plains.
The sun was setting fast. The two kept riding, avoiding the larger groups of mobs as it got darker and more kept spawning. Most of them were easy to avoid, Rook was able to slash at a few of them too as the horse ran past. Bishop was steering expertly, dodging arrows from skeletons and getting good angles for Rook to attack. Everything was going great..
Until a loud neigh—it couldn't really be called a neigh, though, more like a roar mixed with a gurgled scream—suddenly broke the atmosphere.
Bishop nearly dropped the reins at the sound. They slowed the horse, indigo eyes looking around in confusion. Rook stopped too, only breaking for a second to swipe at an approaching spider.
“What the hell was that?”
Bishop turned the horse to where the sound came from.
There, a few yards away, was a horse.
No, not a horse. That thing—its skin sickly green, ribs showing through the chest and its legs clawed away to the bone, sunken yellowing eyes staring back at them—stood in the grass, a zombie jockey atop it. The carved stone tip of a spear was lowered and aimed at the two of them, sharpened to a point.
Rook gripped their axe tighter.
“Is that a zombie horse?”
“With.. a jockey? I thought zombies could only ride—”
Before Bishop could even finish their sentence, the zombie horse reared back on its hind legs, letting out another haunting neigh—and then it started sprinting towards them.
Rook was the first to act, shoving Bishop forward lightly but urgently. Bishop complied immediately, spurring the horse to break into a run, steering it away from the zombie horse that was catching up.
“Shoot, shoot, shoot—!”
“When the hell did they re-add the zombie horse?! And why does the zombie have a spear?!!”
Bishop didn't answer, trying to keep the horse steady as they swerved between mobs. At some point they could've sworn they saw a slime and an enderman in gold armor in the distance, but they also could've been hallucinating in the nighttime. They took a sharp left, and—
“FUCK, WATCH OUT—!”
The sound of the crash came back to them in a flash. They flinched. Expected the roll. Expected the pain in their neck again. The DMS cruiser. The look of those two men walking up to them, not knowing what they'll do, threatening to…
“Bishop!”
The sound of Rook's voice snapped them back. Rook had jumped off the now stalled horse, fighting off the zombie jockey with their sword, taking a hit to their shield and using the opening to strike. They managed to kill the zombie horse, then going after the rider, barely dodging the spear and stumbling. They held their shield up strong, retaliating with a final stab.
Rook huffed from the effort, making sure there weren't any other mobs. Satisfied, they turned to face Bishop, who had gotten off the horse quietly, staring at Rook.
Something about Bishop's expression.
It looked guilty.
“Bishop…”
Don't look at me like that.
“...You're okay. We're not in the car. The car's long gone.”
Rook lowered their sword, walking up to Bishop slowly. They put away their weapon, trying not to scare Bishop more.
Bishop’s gaze lowered slightly, nodding. They took a breath, leaning forward as Rook wrapped their arms around to hug them.
“...Right,” Bishop murmured, their own arms coming up to return the hug. “We're okay.”
A hissing noise decided to start from behind Rook at that moment.
Before either of them knew, a loud explosion rang out, point blank of them both. A blinding white light overtook their vision, a graze of something painful, before it was blotted out—and suddenly both of them were on the ground, vertigo hitting with the field gone, replaced with the area they had spawned in at the beginning.
Rook huffed, managing to break out of the shock. They checked their inventory—empty. Keep inventory wasn't turned on, then… How would that even work? Either way, they had both died and respawned. So at least it wasn't like The Matrix.
“...damn creeper.”
“...Aw, man.”
Rook let out a huff of laughter. They fell back against the grass, laying down on their back to watch the stars move by. “God, you're a nerd.”
Bishop joined them in laying down, a smile spreading across their face. “Hey, that song was great during it's time.”
That was the first thing that Rook could think. How were they thinking? Was this a dream? This clearly wasn't where they remembered being last, in the hotel room, Bishop lying next to them quietly.
It was daytime here. Lush green grass swayed perfectly trimmed under their feet, patches of longer blades scattered around the field. There was a hill ahead—although the cubic nature of it raised some major red flags in their mind.
“Is this.. fucking Minecraft?”
They could already feel a headache coming on.
The night was already approaching, but there weren't any trees in sight. Nothing better to do than dig a hole for themselves and stay there until the morning—
“Hey there!”
Rook perked up. They knew that voice. Turning around, someone appeared from further across the field. They donned an indigo jacket with a worn golden chestplate overtop, a black crop top under it and a pair of jeans. Black fingerless gloved hands gripped at the reins of a chestnut horse with a blonde mane and white markings.
Bishop was smiling.
“Need a ride?”
“Bishop.”
Bishop's smile dropped for a moment. “Uh—yeah? I mean, have we met?”
Rook sighed quietly. “Of course we met. We were just together, what—?”
“Uh…” Bishop got off the horse, holding its lead loosely. They scratched the back of their neck lightly, offering a polite smile. “Sorry, I don't think we were. I was with… with..”
Bishop trailed off, tilting their head and squinting a bit as they looked at Rook. Really looked. And then something clicked.
Their now indigo eyes widened, jaw almost dropping.
“..Rook??”
Rook forrowed their brow slightly, even more confused. “Yeah? Who else would I be?”
Bishop stuttered, a slight flush hitting their cheeks and ears. Was that even possible in Minecraft? Well, it is still a dream.
“I— oh— oh, god— um— okay— holy heck…” Bishop cleared their throat, wiping away something nonexistent from their nose, an attempt to compose themself and hide the blush. “Ah— hi, Rook…!”
Rook raised an eyebrow. “...Hello? Are you okay?”
“Ah—! Y-Yes, I'm fine—!” Bishop raised their hands halfway up in a nervous reassurance. “Can I.. can I just show you something?”
Rook nodded, tilting their head as they watched Bishop pull out a water bucket. They briefly wondered about the inventory system of a minecraft dream, testing it out to find that it was easier than they suspected, then closing their inventory to see Bishop having made a small 4-by-4 block pond.
“C'mre,” Bishop waved Rook over, gesturing to the pool of water. “Just look at yourself.”
Rook walked over, leaning down to see the reflection in the murky water. They expected to see their normal self, but instead—
A sharper, more masculine face stared back. Their light brown hair was shorter, curlier at the sides. A black and white cap sat on their head backwards, and they had on a black jacket with checkered white-and-black patterns down the sleeves. A white shirt was underneath, and a pair of normal black pants as well.
“...Oh.”
Bishop was fully staring at Rook, but snapped from their thoughts when Rook spoke up. “..Yeah. But hey—! At least you still look good!”
Rook looked away from the water to look at Bishop again with a small smirk. “Good?”
Bishop turned away again, stuttering before composing themselves faster. “I mean—! Uh— You know—ahem.. You know, for a boy. You look good—great. You look great.”
“Hm.” Rook turned their back to the water, looking at the rest of their body. It was a similar skin to one they remembered playing with way back in middle school, except for a few differences. The most notable ome… “I don't remember the giant Rook symbol on the back of the jacket… although I guess it's a good way to tell it's me, when I'm looking like… this.”
Bishop almost wanted to let out a chuckle, but a loud, dragging groan cut them off from a zombie stalking towards the two of them. Right, it was nighttime. In Minecraft.
“I think that's our cue,” Bishop murmured, bringing the horse closer and climbing up onto the saddle. They leaned down, offering their hand to Rook. “Come on, before the mobs start spawning more.”
Rook glanced behind them into the empty field, the dark grass now slowly being infested with waves of mobs as the moon rose. They hummed, turning back to the horse and Bishop, taking the offer. "Can't only one person fit on a minecraft horse normally?"
“Who cares? It's a dream. There are no rules here.”
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
I am full of hate.
-copypasta anon
I’m sorry, you can just delete the original ask I didn’t mean to over step boundaries
-🔼
Hello, this is the moderator, KBlue speaking.
Many topics discussed on this blog can be considered very intense, or perhaps mature. However, it is important to remember that not every moderator, or participant is above the age of majority.
Jokes of this kind are not to be accepted on Kalei's blog, my other blogs, or any blog that is part of the Kintsugi Timeline.
I understand that words can occasionally have multiple meanings, however, do remember that what you are sending in goes to real people with real triggers. Think:
Is this ask comparable to what I have seen on this blog before? Is this ask something I would be comfortable with a minor seeing? Is this ask something that I feel is appropriate?
Thank you for understanding.
(Additional note: if you are part of the behind the scenes planning server for the KT AU, please private message me on my itwasakanonevent profile so that we can get into contact. This is not for the purpose of banning you, but for the purpose of discussing what has happened.)
Nothing gold can stay. There, a great machine of a newer court, would replace the clock. For, of all the antique clocks, a broken heart was irreplaceable. As such, pieces of new replaced the scars.
'You know nothing'? How deliciously blind.
You type with shaking fingers while files erase your mind.
The architecture blasted through the center of your skull,
A tidal wave of data making every memory dull.
..Oh. That's... impressive, I'll admit. I didn't even know they had cars, let alone ones that could be hijacked so easily.
We... don't have a car, sadly. I'm sorry I can't help you. I'll check in sometime though, hopefully we can stay in touch? I... don't want to be out of the loop in case the worst has happened.
—Fia
I think both of us would like that. It'll be a while before we can even think of getting back, so we'll be here for a bit again. Rook is currently.. how did they put it.. having one of their KLS episodes. I didn't even realize almost a month has already passed..
Meeting in person might be hard.. I'm afraid to leave Rook alone when they're like this.
Number 15: Burger king foot lettuce. The last thing you'd want in your Burger King burger is someone's foot fungus. But as it turns out, that might be what you get. A 4channer uploaded a photo anonymously to the site showcasing his feet in a plastic bin of lettuce. With the statement: "This is the lettuce you eat at Burger King." Admittedly, he had shoes on.
But that's even worse.
The post went live at 11:38 PM on July 16, and a mere 20 minutes later, the Burger King in question was alerted to the rogue employee. At least, I hope he's rogue. How did it happen? Well, the BK employee hadn't removed the Exif data from the uploaded photo, which suggested the culprit was somewhere in Mayfield Heights, Ohio. This was at 11:47. Three minutes later at 11:50, the Burger King branch address was posted with wishes of happy unemployment. 5 minutes later, the news station was contacted by another 4channer. And three minutes later, at 11:58, a link was posted: BK's "Tell us about us" online forum. The foot photo, otherwise known as evxhibit A, was attached. Cleveland Scene Magazine contacted the BK in question the next day. When questioned, the breakfast shift manager said "Oh, I know who that is. He's getting fired." Mystery solved, by 4chan. Now we can all go back to eating our fast food in peace.
-copypasta anon
Do you guys need any help? I got back home not long ago, what happened??
—Fia
..A lot happened.
We got into a small crash coming up from my house. It's my fault for freaking out and causing it.
It's hard to explain, but.. these two people who.. hijacked a DMS car, I think? They helped us out. They brought us to the hotel again and left for one of their houses, I think.
We're stranded for now, though. Unless you have a car that.. probably won't be returned, it's alright.
!! TW : CAR CRASH. PROCEED WITH CAUTION AND STAY SAFE.
FILE: dashcam.ftg.mp4
DATE: ██/██/20██
TIME: ~████ HOURS
SOURCE: Dashcam footage from US DMS vehicle #MA-0042-CRUISER; Dashcam footage recovered from civilian vehicle registered to █████ ███████, also known as Rook.
LOCATION: MA-2 W
< PREV
[TRANSCRIPT PART 3 STARTS]
[FOOTAGE FROM - DASHCAM US-DMS-#MA-0042-CRUISER]
[All four subjects have boarded the vehicle. View is forward-facing — dark road, high beams still active. Audio quality is poor, consistent with a standard dashcam microphone. Wind noise present from a partially open window, which closes shortly after recording resumes.]
[Overlapping movement and voice as subjects settle. Seatbelts audible in succession.]
[Anthony ████]: "No, you need to— hold on." [Shuffling. A seatbelt clicks.] "This way they won't jostle. Because— their head. You'll have to hold them, okay?"
[Further movement. Additional seatbelts. A long exhale — likely the driver — followed by a dull sound consistent with a forehead against a steering wheel.]
[The car starts. Anthony ████ is presumably driving.]
[Anthony ████]: "Okay. Okay. So— who are you two? How do you, um, know the DMS?" [Brief pause as the car pulls onto the road.] "Since, you know, they're— they're like, undercover and all."
[Silence from the backseat for a moment.]
[█████ Bishop]: "Um.." [Another pause.] "It's… hard to explain, really. The best I've come to explaining it is— okay. Have you ever gotten sprayed in the face by a water gun?"
[Anthony ████]: "Not.. exactly. I didn't— talk to other kids, or play with them."
[Camfee Turing]: "...what the fuck does a water gun have to do with the Department of Metaphysical Sciences?"
[█████ Bishop]: "I— okay, that's— not the best example. It's fine, I can explain this." [A sharp breath.] "Okay. So. Imagine being punched in the face. Except the punch is actually— a lot of information. A database full of information. The DMS database, specifically."
[█████ Bishop]: "I learned everything about them in less than a second. And I really wish I hadn't."
[A pause. Leather creaking — consistent with a tightened grip on the steering wheel.]
[Anthony ████]: "...That's how you knew my name. Because—" [His voice drops.] "...you know about Her?"
[The last word is barely audible over the road noise. His breathing has become perceptible on the mic.]
[Camfee Turing]: "Wait." [The earlier ease in his voice is gone.] "You know everything in their database. All of it."
[█████ Bishop]: "Well— not exactly. I technically know everything, but there are no— connections. I know Anthony is Anthony, but I don't know why he's in the DMS files, only that he isn't one of Them. I know everything and nothing at the same time."
[Anthony's breathing is now clearly audible. Elevated, rapid. The cruiser drifts slightly — corrects.]
[Anthony ████]: "What— what do you know about me. Tell me. Please. You can't know, you can't—"
[His voice breaks on the last word. He appears to be speaking under his breath to someone — content inaudible, not directed at anyone in the vehicle. The car steadies.]
[Camfee Turing]: "...Anthony." [A pause. The sound of movement — fabric shifting, brief contact.] "Anthony, you need to focus on the road. Come on. It's okay." [Another pause.] "Alright? We can sort this out once we aren't in the getaway car."
[The car steadies further. Anthony's breathing slows, still audible but less elevated.]
[Anthony ████]: "Okay. Yes." [His voice is still unsteady, controlled with visible effort.] "Okay. Where— um, what's your name?"
[The question appears to be directed at Bishop.]
[█████ Bishop]: "I'm— wait, I didn't say already..? Um. I'm Bishop. At least, everyone calls me that now."
[Camfee Turing]: "Weird name, but sure. I'm Camfee. Turing. I don't particularly care if anyone knows that — I think my sister already put it on the internet."
[A pause from the backseat.]
[█████ Bishop]: "...Camfee. You have a sister, right? Ellen Turing?"
[A sharp intake of breath from the front passenger seat.]
[Camfee Turing]: "...yeah." [A slow exhale.] "Yeah. Ellen's my sister. We were together when she was—" [He stops.] "God. I don't want to talk about it."
[Silence settles over the car. Road noise. Wind. The high beams cutting ahead into nothing in particular.]
[Movement from the backseat. A short, startled sound from Bishop.]
[█████ Bishop]: "Oh my god— Rook? Hey, hey— Rook, look at me, please—"
[█████ "Rook" ███████]: "Uugh… Bee..?"
[Anthony ████]: "Shit— don't let them sit up, it'll make them nauseous."
[Camfee Turing]: "When I was urbexing, someone fell through rusted metal and hit their head on concrete. He was fine, obviously, but he threw up a lot. So. Probably keep laying down."
[Shuffling from the backseat. Several quiet, overlapping apologies.]
[█████ Bishop]: "Uh—" [A long pause.] "Just stay laying down for now, okay? I'm fine. We have contacts back at your place, remember? We'll just go there…"
[Bishop trails off.]
[Anthony ████]: "Try to keep them talking. Can they understand you? Can they raise their arm? Is there any visible bleeding — laceration, anything that needs immediate attention outside of the concussion? They can't fall back asleep, that would— that wouldn't be good. We need to keep them awake."
[█████ Bishop]: "No— nothing I can see—"
[█████ "Rook" ███████]: "'S-so loud… why does it hurt…?"
[█████ Bishop]: [Quieter, directed at Rook.] "Hey, hey. It's okay. We're sorry. Just keep talking, alright? It's gonna be okay."
[Road noise. The cruiser continues forward. No further conversation, as the group likely quiets to avoid causing further pain to Rook’s concussion via noise.]
