#changedbysong

[escapedartgeek]

@changedbysong

[x]

zora takes their time, having done a good bit of picking from the community garden. they found some value in participating in making sure things grew and being able to receive from the labor that went into such a place. they had been looking over their collection of strawberries, grabbing a few more before noticing the look on maia's face.

a slow, slight nod.

"ah.. yeah. those can be rough to deal with. comes with getting this directly.. i guess. "

[thesickening]

@changedbysong sent . . .

there's only one other patron in the store this late at night/early in the morning, and they're currently shoveling handfuls of candy into their jacket. they occasionally pluck out one, unwrap it, and push it into their mouth, chewing with weirdly sharp teeth.

( @changedbysong - for any muse you'd like)

great. how long has he been here for ? half an hour ? & already the customers are misbehaving. guy considers ignoring it. maybe if he acts oblivious, nothing will come of it. but then again . . . the store has cameras for a reason. if management reviews the footage & sees him standing around, doing nothing, while someone steals merchandise ? his ass is getting fired.

not that this job means much to him, nor does he give a damn about theft. but he's already lost two other jobs. it may be harder to get a fourth one, & he desperately needs the money.

grumbling incomprehensibly under his breath, guy grabs his notepad & scribbles furiously. he then approaches the candy - eating patron, holding the paper up for them to see.

[ I HOPE YOU PLAN ON PAYING FOR THAT. ]

[drxmxtispersonxe]

😶 is there anyone you haven't lied to?

( @changedbysong )

@changedbysong

LOGIC [Challenging - Success] - You think this question maybe isn't meant for you. You lie-- who doesn't?-- but you have never defined yourself by it. You have other annoying traits to consider. ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Annoying? You're a goddamn superstar, baby! That's what you're defined by! Don't listen to the haters. They can't bring you down. LOGIC - That guy is one of those annoying traits. ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Come on...

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Challenging - Failure] - Back to the question, maybe it is meant for you. It could be a test to see if you consider yourself a liar. Do you?

YOU - I don't think so? Not more than anyone else... RHETORIC - That's a weak argument. We have to come up with something better than that. DRAMA - I have a suggestion, Sire. A funny one. RHETORIC - Don't listen to him. DRAMA - A really funny one. YOU - I'm listening. DRAMA - What if you... lied? Right now. They won't be expecting it. RHETORIC - That's stupid. You know that's stupid, right? YOU - That is pretty funny, actually. DRAMA - See? You yearn for the performance. And you can perform.

RHETORIC - Oh my god. DRAMA [Medium - Failure] - "I have never, ever told a lie ever in my life. I'm the most honest cop. That's what I'm known as, actually. The Most Honest Cop in Revachol. I don't even lie about uhh... things that are normal to lie about. Like the size of-" RHETORIC - Do not bring your cock into this. YOU - "-my cock. It's all honesty all the time, baby. Even when it's uncomfortable. I'll answer anything. Honestly."

[rasskaz4ik]

( WOE, CHANGELING UPON YE - @changedbysong for alan)

they arrive with a loud thud on the fire escape above him, a sound of shifting weight and shaking metal. they lean out from one of the railings, their voice the strangled shout if someone trying to be more formidable than they are.

"KING ARTHUR!"

their teeth bare in a small, sharp grimace, desperate, feral with stress and starvation.

"I AND HAVE MUCH QUARREL WITH YOU, YOU - MURDERING, MEDDLING BASTARD!"

He needs another plot point, another story beat to follow to its conclusion. The last one was a failure—he's still here, it's already slipping from his memory, bleeding off the page, many of the intricate details lost to the darkness, the endless loop.

Tim hadn't had much to offer in the way of ideas—it's not his fault; he's a cop and they're not exactly known for their wild imaginations—but he was a friendly face, patient and endlessly pleasant to talk to, and had offered a suggestion to where to find inspiration. It was a lead, flimsy though as it was.

Not like he had anything better.

Alan jumps at the sound of rattling, shaking metal, jumping back in case the entire thing is about to come down on him. His heart hammers in his chest, roars like thunder in his ears, and he immediately snaps the torch skyward, capturing the person—creature?—in the beam, knuckles turning white from how tightly he grips it. The revolver follows a second after, aimed right at their chest. His hand trembles.

They know him. Or they think they do. Alan frantically wracks his memories, trying to dredge up where he might know them from. They play out to the sound of the typewriter carriage endlessly clacking away, but the words are illegible.

He takes another step back, assuming a defensive position.

"What—what quarrel? I'm not—who even are you? Have we met?"

@changedbysong

[emilesmuseassembly]

021, an open field surrounded by scarecrows.

for casey

@changedbysong

🧺* ― 𝑭𝑶𝑳𝑲 𝑯𝑶𝑹𝑹𝑶𝑹 𝑺𝑬𝑻𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺.

Casey feels like he has met them before, but he can't quite put his finger on when that could have been... surely, he would have remembered it.

(He doesn't remember because he had been bleeding out on the ground.)

He eyes the person in front of him, somewhere between recognition and suspicion, then looks around them with furrowed brow.

This was strange as well; gone were the concrete streets and high buildings, replaced by what seemed to be a never-ending stretch of fields and an unyielding amount of scarecrows.

They were all directed at them, like they were waiting for them to make the first move.

"Do you know where we are?"

[dreamswideawake]

✘ (the question is painstakingly written out on a crumpled slip of paper.)

who are you, really?

( @changedbysong )

My muse has to tell nothing but the truth for ten asks || accepting || @changedbysong

2/10

The Poet's eye scans the paper, fiercely biting his tongue. He doesn't want to answer this. He doesn't want anyone to know his real name. That man is dead. Long gone. There’s no use in calling after him and trying to find pieces buried six feet deep.

Still, he can feel the name rising in his chest like bile in his throat. He clenches hold of the handle on his cane until his knuckles go white. Resist. Don't answer. RESIST.

"Aatos Lampo." He says it between gritted teeth, eyes watering as it's forced out.

[rasskaz4ik]

HIGH: for our muses sit on top of a roof together, sharing a bottle of booze or a joint.

( @changedbysong - i think maia and tor should have a beer or something, as a treat)

It's no Anderson Brothers' Special Lake Blend—that shit would simultaneously knock you on your ass and clear your head like you never imagined—but a couple of beers and a bottle of cheap booze poured in red solo cups would get the job done almost as well.

Tor sets the six-pack down between the two of them and plops himself down into the rickety old lawn chair that looks one wrong move away from breaking under his ass. Surprisingly, it holds.

'Don't wait up, bro,' Tor sends to Odin along their mental link, drumming his fingers against his leg. 'Gonna be out for a while.' It doesn't make a difference if Odin responds or not, but he does—he always does, unless he's dead asleep; can always count on him for that—with a gripe and a quip that makes Tor grin.

He pops the top off one of the bottles and slides it over to the kid before grabbing one for himself.

"Tell me more about that band of yours—what kind of music was it?"

@changedbysong

[thesickening]

@changedbysong replied to this post with . . . decrepit old man

‎ ❝ don't be silly. decrepit only applies to things that can physically break down. an entity such as myself does not age nor wear down. time only moves forward is all. ❞