Corporate Mandated Personal Blog.

Charlie walks into Spec's office, slightly less exhausted than before, yet somehow more disheveled. He's frowning slightly. He's carrying blueprints and a few fabric samples.

"I'm just bringing these to you. We just got them in. I'd say something about knocking me out, but I don't have the energy for it right now."

Spec smiles, swiveling its chair to face Charlie. “Well, you slept well, did you not?”

Its gaze falls to the blueprints, eyes lighting up in excitement. “And thank you! Oh, I can not wait to work with these, haha!”

It seems genuinely elated at the prospect of working with fabrics again. It makes sense though; after all, Spec was on character design before it became a Coordinator.

// @showfalls-favorite-spider

"I-.. slept. That's about the best I can say right now."

He sets the stuff on a side table in the office, so its desk won't get terribly cluttered.

"You have any particular plans for these costumes?"

“Nothing big,” it shrugs, rolling over to the side table and picking up the fabric. “Taking inspiration from— what’s it called, outside? Theatre? —inspiration from that. Comedy-tragedy masks, things of that nature. Neat, isn’t it?”

It runs its fingers across the fabric and gums quietly to itself. “Amazing.”

Charlie hums vaguely, suddenly feeling very weak. As hard as he tries to act normal and keep himself upright, it doesn't work and suddenly, without warning or seemingly reason, he is unconscious on the floor.

Spec’s reaction time is slow, but the moment it realizes they’re on the floor it’s down there with him.

“Charlie?” It asks frantically, mentally going over anything that could’ve happened to cause this. It props them up against a wall, shaking it slightly. “Charlie, get up.”

Charlie is completely unresponsive for hours.

Until, finally, he wakes up. It's not slow, but not fast either. Just- suddenly he's awake again and looking... wrong. Paler than usual.

Charlie grumbles and puts a hand to his head, frowning.

"Shit.. no.."

Spec’s head snaps around at an inhuman angle at the sound of Charlie’s voice.

It crouches down from where it’d been pacing, taking in how bad he looks.

“Charlie? What happened? You scared me there, are you okay? What’s wrong?” It asks, panicky. “You— you collapsed. I thought something might’ve… I don’t know.”

"I'm fine, Spec.."

He looks up at it, eyes vaguely unfocused. Charlie checks over Spec before letting out an exhausted sigh.

"You're okay.. good.."

“Of course I’m good, Charlie, why wouldn’t I be? Are you?” It asks, checking over him for injuries. Fine, he’s fine, he looks pale and he’s shaking but he’s fine and—

Oh. Ow.

Its hand finds its way to its stomach, fingers pressing against a wound. That’s new. And bad, probably. It’s fine. Charlie’s the focus now.

“Ah-… ow.”

"Spec??"

Charlie is up in an instant, despite how he feels.

"Are you okay? What's going on?"

It winces. Being stabbed really isn’t fun.

“I’m fine, Charlie. Just a scratch, is all. What happened to you?”

"No, you're not. Tell me what's going on, Spec."

“You first. I’m not the one who collapsed out of no where.”

#personal script #puppet strings

"I'm fine, I haven't been feeling well and it just came to a climax. I'll be okay. Now tell me what's going on."

Charlie walks into Spec's office, slightly less exhausted than before, yet somehow more disheveled. He's frowning slightly. He's carrying blueprints and a few fabric samples.

"I'm just bringing these to you. We just got them in. I'd say something about knocking me out, but I don't have the energy for it right now."

Spec smiles, swiveling its chair to face Charlie. “Well, you slept well, did you not?”

Its gaze falls to the blueprints, eyes lighting up in excitement. “And thank you! Oh, I can not wait to work with these, haha!”

It seems genuinely elated at the prospect of working with fabrics again. It makes sense though; after all, Spec was on character design before it became a Coordinator.

// @showfalls-favorite-spider

"I-.. slept. That's about the best I can say right now."

He sets the stuff on a side table in the office, so its desk won't get terribly cluttered.

"You have any particular plans for these costumes?"

“Nothing big,” it shrugs, rolling over to the side table and picking up the fabric. “Taking inspiration from— what’s it called, outside? Theatre? —inspiration from that. Comedy-tragedy masks, things of that nature. Neat, isn’t it?”

It runs its fingers across the fabric and gums quietly to itself. “Amazing.”

Charlie hums vaguely, suddenly feeling very weak. As hard as he tries to act normal and keep himself upright, it doesn't work and suddenly, without warning or seemingly reason, he is unconscious on the floor.

Spec’s reaction time is slow, but the moment it realizes they’re on the floor it’s down there with him.

“Charlie?” It asks frantically, mentally going over anything that could’ve happened to cause this. It props them up against a wall, shaking it slightly. “Charlie, get up.”

Charlie is completely unresponsive for hours.

Until, finally, he wakes up. It's not slow, but not fast either. Just- suddenly he's awake again and looking... wrong. Paler than usual.

Charlie grumbles and puts a hand to his head, frowning.

"Shit.. no.."

Spec’s head snaps around at an inhuman angle at the sound of Charlie’s voice.

It crouches down from where it’d been pacing, taking in how bad he looks.

“Charlie? What happened? You scared me there, are you okay? What’s wrong?” It asks, panicky. “You— you collapsed. I thought something might’ve… I don’t know.”

"I'm fine, Spec.."

He looks up at it, eyes vaguely unfocused. Charlie checks over Spec before letting out an exhausted sigh.

"You're okay.. good.."

“Of course I’m good, Charlie, why wouldn’t I be? Are you?” It asks, checking over him for injuries. Fine, he’s fine, he looks pale and he’s shaking but he’s fine and—

Oh. Ow.

Its hand finds its way to its stomach, fingers pressing against a wound. That’s new. And bad, probably. It’s fine. Charlie’s the focus now.

“Ah-… ow.”

"Spec??"

Charlie is up in an instant, despite how he feels.

"Are you okay? What's going on?"

It winces. Being stabbed really isn’t fun.

“I’m fine, Charlie. Just a scratch, is all. What happened to you?”

#personal script #puppet strings

"No, you're not. Tell me what's going on, Spec."

Charlie walks into Spec's office, slightly less exhausted than before, yet somehow more disheveled. He's frowning slightly. He's carrying blueprints and a few fabric samples.

"I'm just bringing these to you. We just got them in. I'd say something about knocking me out, but I don't have the energy for it right now."

Spec smiles, swiveling its chair to face Charlie. “Well, you slept well, did you not?”

Its gaze falls to the blueprints, eyes lighting up in excitement. “And thank you! Oh, I can not wait to work with these, haha!”

It seems genuinely elated at the prospect of working with fabrics again. It makes sense though; after all, Spec was on character design before it became a Coordinator.

// @showfalls-favorite-spider

"I-.. slept. That's about the best I can say right now."

He sets the stuff on a side table in the office, so its desk won't get terribly cluttered.

"You have any particular plans for these costumes?"

“Nothing big,” it shrugs, rolling over to the side table and picking up the fabric. “Taking inspiration from— what’s it called, outside? Theatre? —inspiration from that. Comedy-tragedy masks, things of that nature. Neat, isn’t it?”

It runs its fingers across the fabric and gums quietly to itself. “Amazing.”

Charlie hums vaguely, suddenly feeling very weak. As hard as he tries to act normal and keep himself upright, it doesn't work and suddenly, without warning or seemingly reason, he is unconscious on the floor.

Spec’s reaction time is slow, but the moment it realizes they’re on the floor it’s down there with him.

“Charlie?” It asks frantically, mentally going over anything that could’ve happened to cause this. It props them up against a wall, shaking it slightly. “Charlie, get up.”

Charlie is completely unresponsive for hours.

Until, finally, he wakes up. It's not slow, but not fast either. Just- suddenly he's awake again and looking... wrong. Paler than usual.

Charlie grumbles and puts a hand to his head, frowning.

"Shit.. no.."

Spec’s head snaps around at an inhuman angle at the sound of Charlie’s voice.

It crouches down from where it’d been pacing, taking in how bad he looks.

“Charlie? What happened? You scared me there, are you okay? What’s wrong?” It asks, panicky. “You— you collapsed. I thought something might’ve… I don’t know.”

"I'm fine, Spec.."

He looks up at it, eyes vaguely unfocused. Charlie checks over Spec before letting out an exhausted sigh.

"You're okay.. good.."

“Of course I’m good, Charlie, why wouldn’t I be? Are you?” It asks, checking over him for injuries. Fine, he’s fine, he looks pale and he’s shaking but he’s fine and—

Oh. Ow.

Its hand finds its way to its stomach, fingers pressing against a wound. That’s new. And bad, probably. It’s fine. Charlie’s the focus now.

“Ah-… ow.”

#puppet strings #personal script

"Spec??"

Charlie is up in an instant, despite how he feels.

"Are you okay? What's going on?"

“Okay”? Is it, really? Are you sure it’s really alright? Who says Security isn’t going to come in and just—

Well, it’s not like you could stop it if it wanted to.

I'm trying. I'm trying..

Charlie walks into Spec's office, slightly less exhausted than before, yet somehow more disheveled. He's frowning slightly. He's carrying blueprints and a few fabric samples.

"I'm just bringing these to you. We just got them in. I'd say something about knocking me out, but I don't have the energy for it right now."

Spec smiles, swiveling its chair to face Charlie. “Well, you slept well, did you not?”

Its gaze falls to the blueprints, eyes lighting up in excitement. “And thank you! Oh, I can not wait to work with these, haha!”

It seems genuinely elated at the prospect of working with fabrics again. It makes sense though; after all, Spec was on character design before it became a Coordinator.

// @showfalls-favorite-spider

"I-.. slept. That's about the best I can say right now."

He sets the stuff on a side table in the office, so its desk won't get terribly cluttered.

"You have any particular plans for these costumes?"

“Nothing big,” it shrugs, rolling over to the side table and picking up the fabric. “Taking inspiration from— what’s it called, outside? Theatre? —inspiration from that. Comedy-tragedy masks, things of that nature. Neat, isn’t it?”

It runs its fingers across the fabric and gums quietly to itself. “Amazing.”

Charlie hums vaguely, suddenly feeling very weak. As hard as he tries to act normal and keep himself upright, it doesn't work and suddenly, without warning or seemingly reason, he is unconscious on the floor.

Spec’s reaction time is slow, but the moment it realizes they’re on the floor it’s down there with him.

“Charlie?” It asks frantically, mentally going over anything that could’ve happened to cause this. It props them up against a wall, shaking it slightly. “Charlie, get up.”

Charlie is completely unresponsive for hours.

Until, finally, he wakes up. It's not slow, but not fast either. Just- suddenly he's awake again and looking... wrong. Paler than usual.

Charlie grumbles and puts a hand to his head, frowning.

"Shit.. no.."

Spec’s head snaps around at an inhuman angle at the sound of Charlie’s voice.

It crouches down from where it’d been pacing, taking in how bad he looks.

“Charlie? What happened? You scared me there, are you okay? What’s wrong?” It asks, panicky. “You— you collapsed. I thought something might’ve… I don’t know.”

#personal script #//NO WORREIS

"I'm fine, Spec.."

He looks up at it, eyes vaguely unfocused. Charlie checks over Spec before letting out an exhausted sigh.

"You're okay.. good.."

Can you really defend it from something so imposing without your strings? Without being a Weaver?

I can try. i havet o. needa nap. it's fine. I'll protect it.

I suppose you’re right. Can’t be sure it’ll do its job right, can you? Can’t be sure it won’t rip Spec apart again?

notagain. can't hap een again. security'll haev to go through me first.

#weaving webs #personal script

Why would you need to keep an eye on Spec? Security will do that for you, right?

nno. I have to doit. Security won't do any go od.

Awww, you don’t? What’s wrong, Little Spider? Or, I suppose you’re not a Spider anymore, hm?

please not rightn now... gotta keep an eye on PSec

#weaving webs #personal script #//he's doing his best guys

How’s Spec, Charlie? Alive and well?

It's.... Spec's fine.. notdeadthankgod.. can'tt tell if it's worried bout me though.. odd.. I don't-.. I don't feelg ood.

#weaving webs #personal script

Charlie walks into Spec's office, slightly less exhausted than before, yet somehow more disheveled. He's frowning slightly. He's carrying blueprints and a few fabric samples.

"I'm just bringing these to you. We just got them in. I'd say something about knocking me out, but I don't have the energy for it right now."

Spec smiles, swiveling its chair to face Charlie. “Well, you slept well, did you not?”

Its gaze falls to the blueprints, eyes lighting up in excitement. “And thank you! Oh, I can not wait to work with these, haha!”

It seems genuinely elated at the prospect of working with fabrics again. It makes sense though; after all, Spec was on character design before it became a Coordinator.

// @showfalls-favorite-spider

"I-.. slept. That's about the best I can say right now."

He sets the stuff on a side table in the office, so its desk won't get terribly cluttered.

"You have any particular plans for these costumes?"

“Nothing big,” it shrugs, rolling over to the side table and picking up the fabric. “Taking inspiration from— what’s it called, outside? Theatre? —inspiration from that. Comedy-tragedy masks, things of that nature. Neat, isn’t it?”

It runs its fingers across the fabric and gums quietly to itself. “Amazing.”

Charlie hums vaguely, suddenly feeling very weak. As hard as he tries to act normal and keep himself upright, it doesn't work and suddenly, without warning or seemingly reason, he is unconscious on the floor.

Spec’s reaction time is slow, but the moment it realizes they’re on the floor it’s down there with him.

“Charlie?” It asks frantically, mentally going over anything that could’ve happened to cause this. It props them up against a wall, shaking it slightly. “Charlie, get up.”

Charlie is completely unresponsive for hours.

Until, finally, he wakes up. It's not slow, but not fast either. Just- suddenly he's awake again and looking... wrong. Paler than usual.

Charlie grumbles and puts a hand to his head, frowning.

"Shit.. no.."

#personal script

Upon passing out, Charlie is wracked with nightmares. A weaver's best dream is everything going exactly to plan. So, of course, the opposite would be everything going wrong.

It starts small, strings breaking, characters stepping out of line, little things. But very quickly it starts to escalate.

Growing up in Showfall, Charlie had never made many friends. Masked until he was nearly 18, freed upon the Founder's request, eventually made a Coordinator along someone named Spec, who had been in costume design until then. That very quickly became the young spider's only friend. Charlie and Spec, though they fight sometimes, are the only friends they've got.

And so it hurts, to be forced to watch the Security bot, the big old monster thing with exposed wires and sharp metal claws and a television for a head rip his friend apart. All because Charlie made one miscalculation.

And then the dream ends.

And another one starts, this time, a different mistake, with the same result.

So it goes on and on and on and on, Charlie forced to try everything he can to keep the one person he has ever known personally alive.

Nothing goes right. People rebel, they kill, they rip, they tear, they break the strings he was so attached to.

He cannot wake up from this nightmare. Not when being ripped from the Web was so sudden, so exhausting. Not when the spiders were all he knew.

.

Charlie walks into Spec's office, slightly less exhausted than before, yet somehow more disheveled. He's frowning slightly. He's carrying blueprints and a few fabric samples.

"I'm just bringing these to you. We just got them in. I'd say something about knocking me out, but I don't have the energy for it right now."

Spec smiles, swiveling its chair to face Charlie. “Well, you slept well, did you not?”

Its gaze falls to the blueprints, eyes lighting up in excitement. “And thank you! Oh, I can not wait to work with these, haha!”

It seems genuinely elated at the prospect of working with fabrics again. It makes sense though; after all, Spec was on character design before it became a Coordinator.

// @showfalls-favorite-spider

"I-.. slept. That's about the best I can say right now."

He sets the stuff on a side table in the office, so its desk won't get terribly cluttered.

"You have any particular plans for these costumes?"

“Nothing big,” it shrugs, rolling over to the side table and picking up the fabric. “Taking inspiration from— what’s it called, outside? Theatre? —inspiration from that. Comedy-tragedy masks, things of that nature. Neat, isn’t it?”

It runs its fingers across the fabric and gums quietly to itself. “Amazing.”

#puppet strings #personal script

Charlie hums vaguely, suddenly feeling very weak. As hard as he tries to act normal and keep himself upright, it doesn't work and suddenly, without warning or seemingly reason, he is unconscious on the floor.

I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Little Spider, but this is going to hurt.

It seems the Mother doesn’t want you anymore. Or maybe she does, and you’re being ripped away.

Regardless,

you are no longer a Weaver.

oh fuck- no-

#weaving webs #personal script

Charrrr-lieeee

I’m with the previous anon! What would happen if you weren’t a Spider for a little while? How would that feel, being out of control?

I don't know. I don't want to know. The last time I was without it, I was masked. So I don't even remember it. It doesn't matter anyway, as it won't happen. Now, does anyone have any more normal questions for me?

#weaving webs #personal script #//got his ass scared great job

Charlie walks into Spec's office, slightly less exhausted than before, yet somehow more disheveled. He's frowning slightly. He's carrying blueprints and a few fabric samples.

"I'm just bringing these to you. We just got them in. I'd say something about knocking me out, but I don't have the energy for it right now."

Spec smiles, swiveling its chair to face Charlie. “Well, you slept well, did you not?”

Its gaze falls to the blueprints, eyes lighting up in excitement. “And thank you! Oh, I can not wait to work with these, haha!”

It seems genuinely elated at the prospect of working with fabrics again. It makes sense though; after all, Spec was on character design before it became a Coordinator.

// @showfalls-favorite-spider