#off-kilter

[ponds-of-ink]

”Scraptrap’s Days Off(-Kilter)” Day 26 — The Side Porch

Take a good look at the outside world, my “esteemed” guest. After we walk inside, there’s no guarantee you’ll be seeing it in such an.. interesting light again.

(All right, this is your cue, folks. Just follow my lead and start staring…)

[frameshiftworks]

Jen is more of a writer than an artist, but that doesn't mean she can't make masterpieces...

[functionality-is-overrated]

Off-kilter.

 I feel the need to post this for no other reason than to just document the day. May 11, 2020. I was lucky enough to get a repatriation flight out of the USA during the global pandemic.

How and why? It started like this: I went abroad for a semester as a chance to prove myself, an opportunity to better myself. I left home with high expectations cultivated by my peers and stereotypical movies. I thought I was free to do what I wanted for 4 solid months, to party and rebel and "live life to the fullest". I was wrong on all accounts. The second I was left to my own devices, I realised that there was so much more that I could be doing, so much more that I could be achieving, out there in another country. And when I made the decision to push myself, the universe decided to test how far I was willing to be pushed. I was way out of my comfort zone. Within 2 months, the virus spread, the mass panic buying of food and toilet paper occurred, the lockdowns due to the pandemic disrupted everything everywhere, and yet I perceived it all to be a personal slight to me by the universe at large. Maybe I was being dramatic, but honestly, the entire experience was just shy of traumatic. I was almost stranded. I had no way of returning home and no idea of what the future would hold on a day to day basis. But I persevered. And then I was granted a birthday gift. On my 19th birthday, I was lucky enough to leave, to escape the "Land of Dreams". And today, a little more than a month since my return, everything still seems surreal. Everything still seems like maybe it happened to somebody else. Out-of-body experiences are normally reserved to life or death situations or over-zealous protagonists in YA novels. But no other phrase can convey that particular brand of confusion. I feel like I escaped a war-zone. The world is still off-kilter to me in a way that I realise nobody else might be able to relate to. But, I've come this far. There may be a long way to go yet. 

[chiaroscuros-void-archive]

When Ross wakes up she can’t see anything. There’s a blindfold around her eyes and rope knotted around her wrists and ankles. Immediately she tries to reach out for Terra through their bond, but is met with searing pain throughout her chest. Something is latched to her right under her collar bone. It feels like giant thorns, like fishhooks, and the more she reaches for her brother the deeper they dig. She shrieks. 

“Ah, you’re awake.” Says a voice. It’s spoken through static. There’s also a second quieter voice alongside it, but it speaks in gibberish. Or at least it sounds like gibberish. “I was wondering when the sedative would wear off. I’ll admit, the fight you put up was valiant. Most Off-Kilters run.”

“Wh... W-wh-” Ross chokes. “Hurts..”

“Mmm, it will. I’m glad the stifle-bug worked, actually. It seems you have some sort bond communication. Many species have that, but not humans. Tell me, what are you, exactly -- ah, if you’re looking for your knife, I took all of your weapons.”

Ross pauses. She doesn’t have her bonds, or her weapons, or her hands and feet, or her sight. 

There’s only one thing she can think to do.

She screams. She wails and flails, rolling on the floor and throwing what must be the biggest fit in the universe. 

There’s the sound of footsteps and she’s forced roughly up by slimy hands. She feels the stranger reach for her face. Screaming, she chomps down on his finger. And is promptly smacked across the jaw. 

“None of that. If you won’t tell what you are, I’ll just find out myself.” Something that may be tape smothers her mouth, then the footsteps clomp away and fade. 

Minutes pass. Once Ross is sure she’s alone, she focuses upon her magic. The... stifle-bug? Clamps down harder. She breathes through the pain. Focus, focus.... 

...

Finally. A tiny shard of light and the littlest orb of shadow. They’ll do. A fanged octopus spider (thing?) crawls into the knot of the rope. It nibbles and untangles just enough for her to yank her wrists free before it poofs away. 

She has to work quick.

The rope, blindfold, and tape are shucked away first. She takes a look at the stifle-beetle. It’s a sort of green stone that, as its name implies, looks like a beetle. Barbed legs and fangs dig into her skin and feed her some sort of... odd poison. Maybe she can just rip it off like a bandaid? 

“Ow -- shit!” Another pair of legs burst from the beetle and nail into her. There’s no time -- she’ll have to deal with it later. 

There’s a dashboard with a collage of switches and buttons that blink intimidatingly. She has no idea what any of them do. Does she guess? Does she wait?

She doesn’t have time for this! 

She just has to press something. Something that won’t lead to her death. Easy, right? 

Hesitantly, she reaches out and slides her finger down a row of green buttons. Green is good... Green is always good in the movies. 

A compartment pops open. Ross cries out.

“My stuff!” 

Too loud. In the distance the heavy footsteps echo. Ross snatches the first thing in the compartment -- her watch, her watch! Thank goodness! -- and rushes to pull the restraints back on. Scooting back against the corner, she hides her watch behind her back. 

There’s the screeeech-bang of a heavy door, shuffled footsteps, and she can feel the stranger’s stare on her. 

Now she waits.

[ponds-of-ink]

“Scraptrap’s Days Off(-Kilter)” Day 28 — The Library

Here we have my library. It’s filled to the brim with all sorts of knowledge.. Both the reasonable and the unhelpful.

Your expression tells me the book you’re holding is in the latter category.

[ponds-of-ink]

“Scraptrap’s Days Off(-Kilter)” Day 25 — The Show Has Begun

Ladies and Gentlemen!

Tonight: I, Count Von Helpy will be treating this wandering vagabond to a tour of my luxurious manor estate! If he survives— I mean— stays the whole seven hours, then he will be free to go back to the outside world. If not, then…

Let’s just say his own fears may consume him.

You are free to come along as mere observers, but watch yourself: Every fourth wall is liable to being breached.

Let’s get started on our tour, shall we?

[tumbler-i-hardly-know-her-daily]

Off-kilter? I hardly know her.

[kirkklan2]

470 - "Who is I?"