Oct 15, 2023
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from United States
seen from Mexico
seen from Italy
seen from Spain
seen from Netherlands
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Nicaragua
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Mexico
seen from Lithuania
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Türkiye
seen from Germany
Peripeteia [Closed RP with littlesuncat]
“You shouldn’t do this...you know that.” Her voice seemed so distant, but she was standing right next to him...the only thing clear in a haze of red.
“And why shouldn’t I?” The mask on the faunus’ face seemed to encompass her entire face: the damn masks were fitting. They wanted to be equal. They became equal to the Grimm they embodied.
“I know how you feel.”
Chrom’s focus shifted immediately toward his feline friend, eyes wide.
“I’ve been in your position before...and I know that you have it in you to do the right thing. You shouldn’t—”
Everything else was fuzzy. He couldn’t hear anything but his own thoughts, roaring at him.
I trusted you...! You...you were with them?! For how long?! You were in her position, holding robberies at gunpoint?! I poured my heart out to you, swore that I would make this world better with your help, and you just...
“—om? Chrom!”
Her touch brought him back to his senses, just for a little bit: the tea shop had been cleared out. No robbery had taken place, he could deduce that much: in fact, the Faunus seemed to have left the mask on the table.
...But his relief gave way to the anger he harbored inside, and in what seemed like an instant, Chrom slammed his hands against Blake’s shoulders, gripping them tightly as he stared right into her eyes.
“Why did you side with them?!” His low voice shot up a few octaves, his entire body shaking along with his voice, tears falling down his face. “How long...how long were you with them...?!” His breathing was ragged as he pressed his body against hers: no escape. Answers. Now.
I'm finding more of myself, everywhere.
It was plausible deniability at first, maybe just... coincidence. Then, I found it again, and again.
Maybe my model was made multiple times, but.. I haven't seen any.. thing... like me.
Some psycho played with his doll, a poor girl whom he insisted was his assassin. He preached prophecy and informed me early on about some clients I met later. Supposedly she was going to come kill him.
Thing is, he was probably right. Well, except him playing dress up with a corpse. Crazy fuck.
Some part of me wonders though, what if he was talking about me?
even then, what was he doing in some skate park with my photo plastered on the wall, and some militia's name above it?
I need to think. Maybe Kasia will know something - If I should get her involved, at all.
... Though, it's not like she isn't already.
I have something.
I will keep it brief.
Follow the rails, stay off of the tram.
Take the footpath to the remote radio station.
It's too heavily guarded to be anything but some kind of clue.
They will shoot your head off if they see you.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
-'I'
I received a letter in the post. It had no indication of an owner, no handwriting, not even a name. The first thing I had hoped was handwriting, a type writer, something to give me any indication on who was interested in me.
It was cut out scraps of the awful propaganda machine, the papers which litter the lands with lies and deceit.
I had nothing but scraps on a page and the slight smell of cigarettes that stained the letter. The same crap laying around that the commie insurrectionists suck down like water.
If not for their trading, it would have lead me straight to a culprit, a trail on finding someone to blame - on interrogation and espionage to give more than a sliver of hope on why someone might have known something beyond a head shake and claims that I have lost and corrupted memory.
I knew exactly where they spoke of, though.
A tram system on the way to one of my leads took a sudden diversion, while the average eye would stare at the dancing lights and towering plaza, in the distance lay a single set of lights on the horizon. It lay obscured under the shadow of darkness, but i knew the shine of a gas mask when I saw one.
I just hope it has something more than a dead end.
How long you will manage to go forward on euphoria wings, despite of everything and without looking back? How long vicissitudes of your inspiration will avoid you? They will come, and to them to be better ready, not that your soul blinded by beams of inspiration, will wallow in them and the miracle will be dissolved as promptly as has appeared.
Burned and blinded… It came. It has merged together with your essence, again having made fire in your eyes. The sensation of new life in the updated and colorful world has opened eyes and you are ready to accept energy of the Universe in all material and non-material substances of the body.
The fracture becomes larger and its expansion can not be stopped. It absorbs all the habitual and gray. It separates the black and white. The heart beats faster, the mind can not keep up with the novelty of the event, and the soul wants the unpredictable continuation. Exotica of emotional feelings… I tear off the fears as pieces of of my mind’s innards, and instilled them into the land of burnt grass to grow in the spring at this place the perfect fruit – a panacea for all ills. In anticipation, when it comes…
Something that changes lives is approaching unexpectedly and inexorably. Steps of inevitability are strongly discouraging their simple rhythm. Still got the time to consider and weigh all the pros and cons. Still got possibility to return everything back, but there is no strength to see the world habitual. The time of the fracture is near, anticipation of novelty absorbs more and more…
