#cwss16

[chaoscommunity]

merry super late christmas @e-a-d-e ! this is a journal of viola and todd from @broadcast-station-5 and it is very cool 

[unfilteredchaos]

//THE CATHEDRAL//

Shortly after the new settlers arrived and attempts to re-establish peace on New World were being made, reconstruction of The Cathedral began. Ben Moore took a special interest in this project and decided to lead it, as its beauty made him feel calm. As a token of peace, he invited the Land, especially the Pathways, to help with its building. The intention was to have a physical manifestation, and a reminder, of the new union between humans and the Land. Among the chaos of Noise made by the thousands of new settlers, that place exuded harmony and evoked a sense of community. Strangers would be drawn into it and be surrounded by a type of Noise they didn’t know, one that brought relief and tranquility. Soon, it was finished and it was left open to the public. People would roam the large halls and be entranced by the beautiful stainglass windows and the echos of their solitary Noise. Ben and the Pathways remained there most days to nurture the unity that they had created. Eventually, it became a place where men learned to harness and control their Noise, while women learned to open themselves and give into it. Among a very difficult time, The Cathedral could be counted on to constantly be a beacon of hope, a song of “Here.”

(for @nerdy-is-super-cool)

[violaeade]

you know the fandom’s died when there was only three posts made for cwss16

[chaoscommunity]

Happy holidays @twinklecatdaddy, I hope you’re having a lovely time!

This is your gift - a tourism brochure for Haven pre-TKONLG (because there was *definitely* a booming tourism sector on the New World).

From @nerdy-is-super-cool, your CWSS16 :)

(pls click on the image for the full size, tumblr is awful and smushed it aka i forgot to make sure it was the right dimensions)

[chaoscommunity]

For when you’re running for your life, burning bridges, leading a rebellion, or just trying to survive For @Ninazenyik Merry Christmas!

LISTEN HERE 

i. Dust Bowl Dance - Mumford and Sons // ii. Highspeeds - Elliot Moss // iii. Redemption Day - Johnny Cash // iv. Murder Song (5,4,3,2,1) - AURORA // v. Can’t Pretend - Thomas Odell // vi. Bottom of the River - Delta Rae // vii. What Will Become of Us - Passenger // viii. Blood on my Name - The Brothers Bright // ix. Riverside - Agnes Obel // x. Intervention - Arcade Fire // xi. The Girl - City and Colour // xii. Tomorrow Will be Kinder - The Secret Sisters // xiii. Through the Valley - Shawn James // xiv. Keep Breathing - Ingrid Michaelson 

[chaoscommunity]

25/08/2089 Earth was once a beautiful place so I am told. A place of vibrant cities, crystal clear waters, mountain ranges with endless shades of green and a sky so blue that no one alive today could ever fathom. I wish that I had seen it, apart from in vids that don’t give justice to the stories that I have heard. The Earth now is far to damaged for me to ever experience it’s beauty but I have been given a chance to experience something perhaps more brilliant. Today is finally the day that I begin my journey to ‘New World’. Cillian Finally, the day had come. I can not wait to experience a new world. There will be so many things to explore. I only wish that Mum had been here to see the day I escape this world of war to find a planet of peace. I am comforted by the fact that she would have wanted me to go, go and find a planet of hope. I have felt so lonely since her passing and I am looking forward to meeting some more like minded people. brighter days wait ahead and the only thing that is making me uneasy is David Prentiss being the leader of my row of cabins on the spacecraft. He has always been a kind man and does display great leadership qualities that he has displayed when organising Church events but I have never been able to completely trust him. I have heard conflicting stories about David since we were in primary school, yes I understand that stories are not always to be believed but they have been told to me by reliable sources. The stories have been of his kind friendship and also of his manipulative ways. I just hope that Jessica is able to watch over every member New World on our journey there as well as when we land just as well as she cares for the Churches. Ben I am now sitting in the waiting bay to board the space craft, unfortunately not as comfortably as I had hoped for. I was called in early to tinker with the engines one last time before lift off and had rocket propellant splattered over my face and shirt. Although at this moment in time I wish that I was not the most experienced mechanic soon to be boarding but I am thankful for all that my father taught me. I am not sure that my place on board would have been secured without my trade, I have not been the most loyal member of the Church. 
Jessica has just walked into the large shed where the ship is being kept and is opening the doors to let the rest of the ship’s attendants in. There are so many people rolling in and I watch them from my seat near the door. I try to assign memories of people I knew from church to faces but I can’t seem to recognise anybody. Jessica greats every single person who enters, everyone smiles from ear to ear- who is that? A man with sandy blonde hair and of strong build walks in and suddenly I can picture exactly how blue Earth’s sky must have been as his cyan eyes meet mine. I rise from my seat as I hear my cabin row number (18) be called, our eyes still locked. Cillian I am seated in the waiting bay to board and my leg is bouncing in anticipation. My eyes dart around as I see so many faces that I can not wait to become acquainted with and so many that I have known since childhood. My walk here was one of nostalgia met with a willingness to forget. I have watched the playgrounds and parks I would play in as a child deteriorate at a rapid place and although I hold those memories close to my heart I can not bare to watch it grow more foul. I hope that New World is a nicer place to raise a child, full of clean air and fields… …I heard a shout come from the next room over and I climbed onto my chair to view into the window above me to investigate. At first all I saw was legs and oil flowing onto the cement floor, then I saw a face - splattered in oil but still rather handsome. He appeared with a scattering of freckles amongst the oil and a nasty scowl that seemed to be unnatural to his kind face. Strangely I didn’t feel so alone as soon as I laid eyes on him. Almost like we had known each other forever but I can’t seem to remember seeing his face before. I do hope that he is in a dorm near row 18 so that we may meet. Ben Merry Christmas and a happy new year to @broadcast-station-5 :) — todds-one-in-particular

[chaoscommunity]

For @haventsleptawink -happy holidays and a happy new year :) Enjoy! . .

Fear in his eyes and determination to make his father proud shivering in his noise, Davy pinched the trigger one last time. He was still trembling with a horrified kind of pride as he stepped away from the scene he’d left behind, failing to imitate nonchalance. It took a great amount of strength for him to turn his back on the bodies of those he’d killed. Would his father be proud? Or would his cowardice show through the noise his father read so easily? Davy shook away these thoughts, but they returned all too quickly, accompanied by the image of Ben and Cillian bleeding on the floor, biting and nagging at the back of his mind like flies. He could still hear the last traces of Ben’s noise, sputtering and sparking like a failing machine, as he lit the match he’d removed from his pocket and flung at the cottage of a house. It took no time for the dry wood to catch ablaze with a heat strong enough to make Davy stumble backwards. Ben’s noise hitched, and disappeared from sight and audibility. Davy sighed. The mayor would be proud, he told himself, though something about that fact made him slightly sick to his stomach.

Ben had heard it first from Cillian’s noise, a warm, pinkish thing littered with the sarcastic commentary he had come to love. /Davy? What are you-/ His panicked thoughts were cut off by sudden images of Todd and Ben, Cillian’s noise flashing purple and black with something akin to panic. Ben, halfway to the barn to tend to evening farm work, froze. His face paled at the sound, the stark white of fear seeping into his noise. He’d hardly had time to let the bucket of water in his hand fall to the ground when-

/BANG/

A tone of shock, empty and slate gray, was seeping into the staggering pain and grief oozing from the cottage like blood from a wound. Along with it, a static of disjointed words sputtered from it, varying in volume and panicked in sound. /I have to do this, I’m so sorry-no, I’m not, I have to-shut up shut up SHUT UP!/ Another gunshot rang out, sending another pang into Ben’s chest. “Please be alive, dammit,” he couldn’t help but whisper, grinding his teeth and beginning to take off across fields of half-dead wheat. His home was just there, he’d be to the door in seconds, Cillain would be alright and- Ben’s self assurances were cut off by noise so familiar he nearly tripped. /Ben? Ben-no, please-run, don’t come back for me, get Todd-get Todd and run and get out of here and make sure nobody else gets-/ “BEN!” Another gunshot rang out, sending Cillian’s ramble into a single word. Despite his one in particular’s protests, Ben was at the faded door in seconds, and took no time throwing it open. /Ben-go, please/ /I’ve got to, I have to-/ Todd materialized in Cillian’s noise once more. “Son, you don’t have to,” was all Ben managed to say in response to the scene, eyes flitting around for several seconds before training on the ghostly pale boy before him. The room was near wreckage, chairs overturned haphazardly and dishes set for supper shattered and strewn about, some even stained with the red that spattered much of the walls and floor. It’s inhabitants appeared in equal state, both grave of face and trembling. Cillian had backed into the furthest corner of the room, bent double and clutching his gut as he stumbled around, wincing and wobbling on gelatin knees. A blooming stain spread through the fabric of his shirt, his hands doing little to prevent the bleeding. Cillian’s face, previously trained on the floor, moved upwards to look at Ben. Glancing between Davy and Ben, he shook his head with much more effort than seemed necessary. Adjacent from him and turned on a dime at the sound of Ben entering was Davy, all of thirteen and doing his best not to tremble like an ensnared rabbit. A half empty pistol was clutched in his clammy fingers, which were rapidly raised so Ben was staring straight down the barrel. /I have to I have to get it done quick or pa will kill me I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry/ Davy’s noise almost whimpered, though his face was fixed with a stone cold glare and his mouth croaked, “Move and I’ll shoot.” “Davy, you don’t have to. We can get you out of here,” Ben protested desperately, his voice a poor caricature of calmness as he shot Cillian a look of concern. The man’s knees had finally given out, and with a sudden /thud/ that Davy’s noise leapt at, he collapsed into a twitching lump on the bloodstained wood below. “I have to,” was all Davy choked out in response, unsteady hand sending the bullet far from his intended target of Ben’s head. Yet with mere feet between the boy and his elder, it was impossible to miss completely. The sudden throb of hot lead in his abdomen sent Ben doubling over, giving Davy the time he needed to turn and run, but not without reeling around once more and shooting towards Ben a last time for good measure. The second shot sent Ben crumbling to the ground as the door slammed behind the boy. The ensuing silence was broken only by Cillian’s occasional wheeze, and the distant bustle and noise of Prentisstown. /Benny, I’m so sorry-/ In a last-ditch effort, Ben slumped over to where Cillian lay, each thrashing movement taking a heaving breath that sliced like a knife into his sides. “Shh, Cill’, you’re gonna hurt yourself,” he muttered as best he could, falling to his knees in a movement closer to collapsing to Cillian’s side. “W-we’re already dead men walking,” his partner wheezed in reply, taking one of Ben’s hands in his own. Ben made an attempt at a response which came out a gurgling cough erupted from his already shaking chest cavity. Blood, thick and oozing, dribbled from his lips and down his face as his hand flew to his mouth to catch it before it could splatter everywhere. /Please, I swear, you might live-/ Cillian rolled his eyes, shooting Ben an affectionate glare. /Ah yes, I’m as healthy and strong as a buck,/ his noise showed sarcastically, though it thrashed and trembled beneath the words. Cillian made a failed attempt at sitting up, his face going rapidly green as he did so. Upon seeing the look of worry spreading across Ben’s face, Cillian shook his head comfortingly and forced a smile, though his silence was betrayed by the roaring waves of pain changing his noise from pink to scarlet. /Todd/, Cillian showed abruptly. /Shh, he’s going to be okay. He can fend just fine on his own/, Ben assured him, though unsure of whether he believed himself. Cillian was silent for a moment, then suddenly broke the quiet with violent string of thoughts, ebbing and flowing in clearness as if Cillian’s mind were drowning, bobbing in and out of the water and gasping for air at every chance. Simultaneously, he gave a great twitch, chewing the inside of his lip to keep from gasping with pain. /Ben-save Todd-Ben-please-hurts-I’m so sorry-please-hurts so much take me just take me-Benny please-/ he rambled, noise breathless and filled with vague, disjointed images. Gasping for air that wouldn’t come, his lungs giving a terrible gurgle with each rattling breath, Ben scrambled for a form of comfort. /Early one morning, just as the sun was rising/, he began, noise showing a voice far better than his own. Despite this, the thoughts shook as he tried desperately to keep them straight. Cillian’s face fell, his noise suddenly a deep blue-gray. /I heard a maiden call from the valley below/, A hand, stiff with the pain from the effort of moving ran along the side of his face, the single bloodied finger tracing the bittersweet smile that crossed Ben’s lips. He could feel a tear cutting through the blood smearing half of his face as he glanced down at Cillian-/his/-Cillian, battered and bloody and dying besides him. /Oh, don’t deceive me/ “I love you,” he whispered through Ben’s song, his hand falling back from Ben’s face. /Oh, never leave me/ /I’m sorry, I’m so sorry/ Cillian showed through his noise, taking the hand Ben wasn’t resting under Cillian’s neck to keep his head from hitting the floor. /How could you use a poor maiden so?/ The second the song ended, Cillian’s panic appeared to return, though his noise became slowly quieter, as if being dragged far away from Ben. It was becoming rapidly more difficult to discern Cillian’s noise from the near silence throbbing throughout the building. /Ben I’m so sorry-take Todd and run-keep Todd safe-don’t die please stay alive and protect Todd-I love you so much-/ His already vague train of thought broke off and became suddenly hazy. /Todd? Where’s Todd?/ /Shh, Cill’, he’s okay, he’s safe/ Ben lied through his teeth, stroking Cillian’s hair all the while. /Benny, I’m so scared/ /It’ll be okay, I swear-/ /Benny, I’m sorry,/ Cillian showed, his noise fading off into something Ben could hardly see or hear. /Don’t you worry,/ Ben began, tightening his arms around Cillian. /I won’t be long./ Cillian’s noise slipped out of audibility once more as he slumped back in Ben’s arms. What might have been a dejected sigh if his lungs had not been giving rattling wheezes sputtered from Ben’s lips as he glanced down at Cillian’s lifeless face, already gray. /It’s only a matter of time./

[chaoscommunity]

Secret Santa!!! aka Todd's First Snow™

For @patrickstumpslonglosthand, CWSS2k16 :)

Hope you like it!

The first time Todd saw snow, he was barely eight years old.

  He’d heard about it from Ben before; tales and stories from the Old World, where there were whole continents covered with the stuff. Continents with penguins and reindeer and uh-roar-uh borealis and Santa-

  Cillian would always be the one to correct him on the part about the penguins. They apparently only lived in the south part of the Old World, which Todd thought was pretty odd.

  But Santa- that got him hooked.

  Todd had always been one for questions, none more-so than questions about things that he didn’t understand. He’d have a barrage of askings for Ben and Cillian alike, although it drove the latter nuts. Cillian tried to be caring, to be concerned and wrapped up with whatever fantasies Todd had in his little head. It was just hard sometimes.

  “Why does Santa only live in the North Pole? What do his reindeer eat if there ain’t any veggie tables? What about the-”

  “Todd, it’s vegetables, “ Cillian grunted impatiently. “And his reindeer don’t eat, because they’re not re-”

  To which Ben would clear his throat, his Noise saying softly Don’t ruin it for ‘em.

  So the questions about Christmas and such would escalate until Todd finally got his fill, his little brain getting all twisted up trying to figure all of it out. There were so many things that tied into the holiday. Who was Jesus? If he was born on Christmas day, then why did Santa give presents to every kid, not just Jesus? Weren’t birthday kids supposed to get gifts?

  “It’s a celebration, Todd. And you don’t have to be a religious sorta person to believe in Christmas.” Ben always had a way of explaining things in a way that made sense to Todd. Everything was softer with him.

  “There’s a lot of ways to celebrate during this time a year,” he explained tentatively. “There’s Christmas, the Christian version - the one with Jesus. Then you’ve got Saint Nick, Chinese New Year, Kwanzaa. It’s all just a time for family and… coming together.”

  “Then what’s the one with the all the candle sticks?” Todd asked. “Ya know, the one with all the arms?”

  Ben’s Noise gets muddled for a second, trying to remember.

what’s the name of that / they had potato cakes and- whatsit- dreidels / menorah/ yeah, that’s it

  “Um… do you mean Hannukah? It’s a Jewish tradition. And the candlestick is called a menorah, Todd. They light a stick for each day leading up to Christmas, I think. It’s a really neat holiday.”

  On the other hand, Cillian always liked telling Todd about Krampus; the tale about the terrifying demon-Santa who would punish the “naughty” children, beating them before dragging them into hell. It was a gruesome story, which left Todd frightened but intrigued.

  “So the next time you track mud into the house, just remember…” Cillian would say, his voice trying to be menacing but not quite getting there. “Krampus is watching.”

    Thus, during the colder months, they’d all start preparing for Christmas early. Even though they all had the best of intentions, it was hard to keep secrets in a world where everyone’s thoughts were broadcasted. Ben and Cillian worked together to hide the small presents that they got for Todd, keeping them under their bed or even in the higher cupboards. Todd, not really sure what to get them but wanting to give something too, usually made little figurines of sticks and twine, trying to make them look like his surrogate parents.

  Every year before then, they’d stay up later than usual and wait for the snow to come… and every year, it never fell. They’d gone so long without seeing it that it wasn’t necessary for the Christmas spirit, and they would still sit by the small fireplace, flames flickering in the dim living room. Sometimes, if he was lucky, Cillian would barter for some rare cocoa powder or chocolate, hardly any saved from the Old World. They didn’t like to waste the hot water, but it was always worth seeing the look on Todd’s face, his cheeks wrinkled as he smiled, gulping down the cocoa with gusto.

  “So, Todd…” Ben said quietly, sipping his drink. “What did you ask Santa for this year?”

  Todd’s eye’s lit up, glowing. His Noise picked up, filled with fissionbikefissionbikefissionbike.

  Cillian stifled a laugh, nearly spitting out his hot chocolate. He regained himself, saying “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see, huh?”

    On Christmas Eve, Todd could hardly stay asleep, tossing and turning in his bed, causing it to creak and groan as he shifted. He couldn’t keep his mind away from the gifts downstairs, of what may be in them-

i gotta find out/ gottagottagotta/  gonna die if i don’t!

  So, he huffed and swung his feet out from under him, placing them softly on the wooden floor beneath him. He’d have to be careful as not to wake them up…

  He snuck downstairs one foot at a time, his heart nearly stopping as he passed Ben and Cillian’s room. He peeked inside, hearing them snoring, their arms curled around each other, letting out a sigh of relief as he passed their door.

  He made his way towards the small tree in the corner of the living room, peering through the shadows casted by the moon, and his eyes laid on the small gathering of presents underneath. His heart sped up, nearly thumping out of his chest.

  That’s when he noticed a gleam coming from outside the window.

  It looked almost like rain, but- rain wasn’t supposed to fall this late in the season, right? And the roof wasn’t making any noise or leaking like it usually did when it rained, so that meant- could it be…?

  “Snow?” Todd whispered, his eyes darting back towards the bedroom door, hoping they didn’t hear him.

  He crouched, walking even slower than before as he neared the front door. He reached for the nob, and could feel the cold creeping in from outside, grabbing at him like gentle hands. He shivered, feeling his skin turn cold.

  ain’t ever seen snow before /  how’m i sposed to know it’s really-

He twists the knob before he gives himself another moment’s hesitation, and pulls the door open.

  The two moons up above give off enough light for him to see the landscape in front of him, and he gasps as the cold floods his senses, air rushing almost painfully into his lungs.

  Because there it all was.

    The snow was still falling around him, landing on his cheeks and nose. Some even landed on his tongue, cold for a second, then gone. The world was blue and black and white- and beautiful.

  The town lay below them, not far off in the distance. There were still a few lights on, glimmering yellows and oranges amidst the darkness. He could even see the church from there, and the lights inside were lit as well; there was no doubt that Aaron was praying this late, especially on such a holy night.

  The trees were misted with the stuff, their branches swaying softly in the wind. The hills rolled on and upward, their shapes outlined by the small snowdrifts gathering and growing on top of them. Todd’s eyes felt glued to the whole scene, not wanting to look away for a second because then it would be gone-

    So. He didn’t move from the doorway.

  That is, until Ben and Cillian woke up bright and early the next morning, rubbing their arms in an attempt to warm up. The fire was nearly put out, and Cillian grumbled and cursed as he tried to bring it back to life. Ben ushered Todd back inside, wrapping him up in a blanket as he shivered. He kept giving him a lecture on you know better than to leave the door open like that and yer gonna catch a cold.

  “Serves ‘em right, stupid kid,” Cillian spat, trying desperately to warm his hands as the flames returned to the fireplace. “It’ll take forever for the house to warm up again, Christ.”

  “Take it easy on him, Cill. It’s Christmas Day, we don’t wanna start it off with fighting, right?”

  Cillian responded with more mumbling, his Noise a muddied mess, rubbing his hands together as he fumed.

  Todd sniffed, lowering his eyes. “ ‘m sorry, you guys. I jus’ wanted to- to”

  He struggled to find the words, his Noise jumbled and rusty.

  the snow was so beautiful and / town was glowing / didn’t wanna leave

  Ben smiled sympathetically, crouching down next to his son. He wrapped him in a big bear hug, his arms large enough to wrap around Todd almost twice. He sighed, breath tickling Todd’s ear.

  “I know, kiddo. I know,” he murmured, patting him on the back. He leaned up again, ruffling Todd’s hair, making him laugh.

  “How about we just watch it from the window next time, yeah? That way you won’t get so cold.”

  “Mmkay, Ben.”

  “… Okay.”

  He stood up, bringing Todd’s face closer to him, a half-hug. He rubbed his cheek with his hand, his fingers rough and callous from years of work. They were kind hands.

  “Whaddaya say we help Cillian get the fire started back up again, huh?”

  Todd’s noise bubbled up, happiness flowing underneath. He looked up at his father, and smiled.

  “I wouldn’t wanna do anything but.”