#entertainingbanter

[automatonarisen-blog]

these are the pe0ple i ass0ciate with

[10:18:30 PM] AA: im s0 d0ne with all 0f y0u

[10:18:39 PM] TG: you have a dirty mind john

[10:18:49 PM] GG: and the rest of us dont? xD

[10:19:00 PM] Sandro: My mind is the purest.

[10:19:15 PM] EB: i do not have a dirty mind.

[10:19:27 PM] EB: whispers mud sensually into aradia's ear.

[10:19:50 PM] TG: dicks and rimjobs

[10:20:09 PM] EB: i talk to YOU, doesn't that explain it?

[10:20:36 PM] TG: ... valid point

[gardengunned-blog]

the college bookstore is DUMB >:O

[thanatousia]

Eventually I'm going to cash in on that date.

[thanatousia]

I saw Dirk's post. Apparently my house should have a transportalizer installed soon.

Excellent.

[thanatousia]

My jeans don't fit.

I'm going to go rob from John.

[equitemsanguine]

wow so like

i just realized that i turn eighteen in ELEVEN DAYS,,,,,,,,,

and i have so much to do before i leave for college and there's so much i need to pack and make sure i have and just

screams

curls into a ball

removes self from life

i'm going to hop off for now but i might be on later on either my john or my meenah if you really want to talk to me

actually i'll definitely be on my john because i have a thing with ly and sang

also my skype is marieorama but i'd prefer if we have some sort of history before you go randomly contact requesting me u_u also tell me who you are please and thank you

[techturngodhead]

Dave ==> Wake Up

You are never going to get used to the feeling of living again after being dead.

Never.

The first thing you are aware of is the metronome, the pulse in you mind that tracks time. You faintly realize that you haven't been hearing the beat and that that was weird. You always here the beat, regular as clockwork, once a minute, all your life. Oh right. Life. A moment later you take a deep breath and your chest burns. Your eyes shoot open and you sit bold upright, your fingers scrambling at where the hole in your chest should be, in your mind seeing your own gushing blood, an insane mixture of red and yellow, and you imagine the ache of the deathblow. Instead of the blood you were so sure was there, your fingers come up against cloth. You pull at soft red fabric, making sure that your chest is solid beneath it.

Wait.

Soft red fabric?

You look down and realize that your god tier pajamas have spawned onto you. You tear your hood off your head look around your bloodstained kitchen floor, and it comes back to you what you've done. You killed Rose. And she killed you.

She made that hole in your chest that you were so sure was there. Because it was. Because you died.

Your katana lays discarded on the floor, smeared in her blood, and Rose's lifeless body, likewise wrapped in her yellow seer outfit, is next to it. 

You want to crawl over to her. You want to take her hand and hold it till she wakes up. You want to say you're sorry, and that you didn't want to fight her, that you didn't mean to hurt her. But you can't.

You're fucking paralyzed, clutching at your shirt and feeling the beat of your own heart race, way faster than the tick of the metronome in your mind. Your breathing quickens as well and your chest feels tight. It feels like you're having a fucking heart attack, and your mind is swimming.

Swimming with images of another time, another place, of a dark bedroom instead of your bright kitchen. Of the same bloodstained katana, the same ache in your chest, the same faltering of the beat in your mind, of your hands desperately grasping the hilt of the sword and pulling down with all the of leaking strength you had left, begging the universe that it would be just, you swear, just fucking let it happen.

You're paralyzed, lost in your own mind, panicking, having scrambled away from Rose's body, the sword, and her wands. You curl up against a kitchen cabinet, your hands over your ears and your eyes facing your knees but really looking at nothing but the blood.

[thanatousia]

I think I'm going to curl my hair today. That sounds like a fun thing to do.

I think I'll get completely dressed up.

Maybe if you're free later, John, we can go on our date? I know we didn't really pick a day but it would be nice to get out of the house.