#torturousnostalgia

[redblackromantic]

torturousnostalgia started following you

LOOKING AT YOU'RE BLOG YOU'RE GERMAN? THE HUMAN GERMAN TYPE THING? MY HUMAN FRIEND JOHN TOLD ME YEARS AGO THAT IF I EVER MET SOMEONE FROM THERE, TO SAY, 'SIEG HEIL MEIN FUHRER'.

WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN ANYWAY? I ALWAYS KEEP MEANING TO LOOK IT UP BUT I KEEP PROCRASTINATING.

ANYWAY, MY NAME'S KARKAT, AND IT'S NICE TO MEET YOU I GUESS.

[stagnierung]

@Torturousnostalgia: The Wrong Kind of Memories

Meir was floating around the edge of the old concentration camp as usual, trying to pass the time by as best he could without company- which wasn't very well at all unfortunately. He'd always been a social man by nature. But then he heard someone approaching, turning to stare up at the other man with bottle green eyes. "Yes?" Wondering what they were doing here. He was clearly very emotional, but Meir was used to those sorts of reactions by now.

[iwillkicksatansass]

torturousnostalgia

ultimafelicitas

          -- If there was one thing she could do that kept away her boredom, it was finding more uses for her tail. Today, she had figured out she could sit on top of a fence by using it- and actually balance on the fence post. It didn't seem to bother her in the slightest that she was out in partial public. She could just lie and say it was mechanical, right?

[rollingflowermountains]

japxn , torturousnostalgia , mutzeigen , theyounglud , il-gattino-contento

/admiring gaze from a distance, everyone looks so nice../

[thunderousmaple]

torturousnostalgia started following you

Mattthew's efforts to keep his Home standing had been in vain- the structure carved into the mountains had collapsed. Here he was now out in the snow trying to survive the cold snowstorm, when he saw a figure approaching. "...?"

[flowersingreece]

It plays in the dark.

The storm howled outside, although it was muted by sturdy walls and closed windows. At least...it was supposed to be muted. In the extremely late hours of the night, the winds suddenly became more hostile at least in as much how much louder they became. It wasn't surprising, because like any storm there was thunder and lightning- in fact it did get louder just when another roar of thunder went off. It was a bit strange sounding, although that had sounded like the natural phenomena had struck the ground very close to his house could easily explain the hollow sound of the boom.

But...a storm couldn't as easily explain the creaking of floorboards under the weight of something ascending up the stairs of this rented cabin. The creaking stopped right at the last bending step, preceding the soft thump and much more distinct crash of something being knocked over in the hall, most likely a piece of decorated furnishing. And then, strangely, there was a seemingly hours-long interval of silence followed by the creaking of something descending the stairs. At the front of the cabin, cold was already encroaching as the door banged against the wall, near-freezing water coating the floor in a bumpy, expanding puddle.

The pack, his food supplies, were being tampered with if the sound of rusting fabric was anything to go by. His trail mix went rejected, becoming an invisible shower of raisin brand and dried fruit that only distinguished itself in the dark at the very end, when it hit the wooden floors and likely fell through the cracks; becoming the faint spattering suffocated under the wind that was being let in.