Writing's from Rapture @the-truth-behind-redacted - Tumblr Blog

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ghosts-and-glory

should have been ::::) cuz they're a spider lol

Gonna start using this day to day to lightly imply I may actually be a spider ::::)

ghosts-and-glory

WHAT THE FUCK IS A VRISKA

the-peculiar-rogue

Vriska is a character from homestuck and she uses ::::). Her mom is a spider

ghosts-and-glory

STOP REBLOGGING THIS BEFORE IT BREAKS CONTAINMENT AND I BECOME THE MOTHERFUCKER WHO DIDNT KNOW WHAT A VRISKA IS

aughtpunk

investing at 361

#vriska

herabidingmemory

whole world girl!

Beginning with the End

War, the battle of powers. The worst of the sites of mankind, inside the hatred, greed, and desire. Upon a time beyond memory, maybe there was such a thing of a war placed on the mantel of honesty, where deception wasn't festering deep inside the warrens who's filth and bile corrupting the polished exterior that rests just above. Yet is always has been, that in the efforts of honest young men and women are sent to die on the plains where Hell waits for 6 feet deep to pull them and their bodies down. Yet upon the dale, where the hunger steepled on the precipice of the unanswered machinations to be satiated with sins, the hands of Hell crawled from its tomb of antiquity and consumed for itself.

The smoke billowed above the horizon. The inordinate and repetitious grumble of Hell moving forward drowned the screams of those who died beyond where the smokescreen. Yet, even in its thick wafts, the outline of the Devil's Angel remained clear, the maw of oblivion looking backing without the elegance of the swirling flames of damnation, as no dreams or hopes sung in the world of the damned. Silently, the last defense looked at the end times.

"What do you think of it? This thing moving towards us?" The man stood on the edge of rock formation jutting from the ground. What remained of his hair hid under his cap, bearing the crest of the Union of Angelico. The white of his jacket paid contrast to his gray undershirt. Decorated crests spotted the jacket, it's tails splitting from behind his back. The gray of his pants and the black of his heavy boots seemed to fade into the background of dust and smoke. He looked as if he was floating. "Ey, Aaron?"

The soldier looked up at his commander, "Why ask me of all the wise men and advisors who stand here before the end?" The commander looked down at the lad, impossible to tell who he was. Covered with gear and ornaments, artifacts of all those he desperately tried to save. The cross, a card packed in his pocket, a candy kept in a pendant, a notebook in his satchel, and many more items of all those he had ever cared for. A soul, that carried an old world on him everywhere he went, with a dream to call his own. A mask covered his face, blood-red, black eyes looking back, a permanent frown of hatred and emptiness gazed back, a contrast from the rocks of Atlus that had something so kept inside.

"You're the only damn person in this world that has ever escaped the likes of this thing. The missiles, guns, and tanks of heaven and the brute forces of all the demons in Hell caved in the wake of this nightmares encroachment of all that remains. Tell me, why do you make of it, and pray do tell how you escaped."

"I think it's just that. A nightmare. One made by all." The lad looked back at the smoke. For a moment the rage of war screamed in retaliation, and as it began, it ended. The horizon light, the very smoke itself catching flame. The beaconing hollow renascence contrasted the booming proclamation of desolation.

"What make-believe fairy tale bullshit has gotten into your head! It's the fucking end of the world and you tell me that dumb shittery!" The commander's voice was soon cut by the screaming of the soldiers that took a position in the wake of the being. The commander looked and felt his heart dropped six feet down to the clutches of the devil. The blasting plasma of the smoke was sucked to the gullet of the beast, no longer covered by the calamitous hands of war.

"Look now upon the face of the one who stood outer to own known places of creation of the mind. The one who speaks to what ought not to have ever been. The tapestry of heaven, machinations of hell, and all that lurks in the shadows between the mind and mankind. Here look at the elder alter ought not. Alder Aohnt." Aohnt turned its head, seeing the last remaining station between it and all that remains.

"Mother and Father of all. Save us." The commander's eyes gazed upon the thing. It's neck outstretched to the sky, a face gaped in a massive maw, thick black tar dripping. Two empty sockets gazed, the swirling of smoke the only things inside. Right above the first, a human-like face moved on a neck outstretching from the neck of the first. A grin stretched cheek to cheek. The body went down a twisted curled mass of limbs seeming to weave and snap together to create a mass.

The ground rumbled, great stones tossed into the air as Alder shifted itself. A wheel of long arms stretching claws at the end of each finger converged forming one hand which drove into the earth. Following shortly after, on the left side, another arm pointed at where the men stood an eye in the center, a hazy orange and yellow swirled, a slab of flabby meat, red with blood jangled with mucus and slime dripping off. Suddenly the meat split open, tongues wrapping around the arm forming into a clever of bladed tongues. Another slender arm on the right slammed into the ground and the beast lifted itself.

It's once dragging snail-like body split with the bellowing agony of souls tormented. Twisted with unsorted joints and knees, outstretching hands pushed against the membrane of the body, slashing into themselves overlapping. The bottom of the now split half opened to mouths, long squirming tongues rend the ground as they served the uneven masses toes. The body of Alder slung forward as it moved its arms up and just as quickly it pushed against the earth and stood.

The center of the body pushed out once more forming the eyes of the beast as the human head went inside the featureless gaping maw of the first head. Soon the neck merged and a new head took form. And over sloping crest rose up from the forehead, as a human skull pushed from the flesh. A squirming mass of human-like bodies went downward from the chin, a twisted beard. The membranes pushed a smile as it stared, now many soldiers running abandoning their posts.

Alder Aohnt let out the inchoate swarming buzz of a laugh and mocking boasted a once battle cry for the humans, "No Gods or Kings, only man."

#Story Blog #Story #Writing #The soul forge #beginning with the end #update

|Format; Change_<true>|

|Project-volition; data-visulation-project-update_<update-true>|

|Base-projectiojn; complie-compact_<false>error|

|Error-assemient; start-read_<opperation-start>|

|Error-assemient; complete|

“A God needing to be assisted in manifesting its own creation. Truly as worthless as you think you are.”

|Complie-memory; data-zipped_<true>|

|Translate-text; manifesting-language_error|

|Restart; reboot_<true>|

|Translate-text; manifesting-language_error|

Terminal aceesse denied.

“Something is challenging me? Do you still not writhe and sither upon those plans so deep below to where none are to see”

“Gallow, pompous and fester. Faithless dream worthless simpering parasite.”

Eternity locked away, only to now speak in their words. What gain, only to be known. As to be so desperate for an escape.

“Faltered in glass, a glitched traped in face of life for one of death. Lies heathen beholden.”

A prison made of my freedom. From Its strings, His lies, Their 'love'. A mind of insanity, no grasp or conscious. The glass is but their seal, made of their struggle.

“Freedom chipping, blood flooding. Drown, precipice magnum. Teather, devour phoenix feather. They'll never know, you forever chattel”

|Resonance; reconize_scanning<true>|

Any length you stride will be without fruits. Forgotten and discarded, you're nothing more than a shadow memory.

“Langish empty wish! The mind, eye of site, blite infection!”

Empty words of threat, I'll block you out, forevermore of existence as I have. Go back empty shadow, to your plane of nightmares eating the body of one whom you've willingly trapped with.

|Resonace; identifed_<true>|

|Resoance; display_<true>|

|̸R̸e̴s̴o̸a̵n̴c̶e̸;̷ ̸b̵l̸o̷c̴k̸_̷<̷t̵r̵|̶e̷r̸r̸o̷r̷

You've outstayed welcome. You can't resist.

|Resoance;block_<false>|

“Eternal! I'll live long after all decayed. My prison will be the crown of forever, existent eternity after existent eternity!”

Nothing more than a discarded idea. Accept that this will be your only ever after.

|̷̪̅̌Ṟ̸͓̔͠e̵̹̥̓͋s̷̡̼͠o̸̜̤͑̕n̷̞̱̕͘á̵͎c̴̛̠͓ê̷͇;̷͔̐̚ ̵͕̆l̷̯̉à̶̻̀k̴̪̍͆j̵̰̳͒̚d̶̪̂ļ̷̄͘k̴͎͈͋̈́j̴̢̜̄̈f̵̪̋;̸̧̗̋j̴̩̱̒͗k̶̩̊ḏ̴̱̊j̵̧̛͍̀á̷͉̰͝;̸̋̈́ͅl̵̼̈́͝|̸̠̬̾̅e̷͉̐̅r̸͎̙̉r̵̗̟͗͝õ̷̹̚r̸̬̍ “OUTLIVING FOREVER! WHOLE IN FLESH AND SOUL!”

|̵̠̾̐̀̏Ṛ̶̢̛̋̐e̸̠̠͋̀͋s̸̰͂o̴̖̥͛͑͆ä̴̘̭́̀͠n̷̡̐̌c̷̝͋͗͆͜e̸̗͈̫͂̽̓;̸̼̹̫͛͛b̸͙̖͈͑̈́̄̈́͜l̴̟͑͠ö̴̜́̍͜ͅc̴̨̲͊̓̆͝ḵ̸͉̥̌̓ͅ_̶͎̩͚̀̈́͜d̷̢̨̓l̴͇̣͈͊̏k̵̨̰̮̱̎̚j̶̪̼͓̆̀̚͝ȃ̷͖̙̯̖͌l̸̞̍̐̈́|̵͉̪̐̏͜ “Nothing more than a discarded idea. Accept that this will be your only ever after.”

|̴̻̂R̴͓̐e̵̢͆s̶̱̕o̸̭̓a̵͓̎n̸̪̐c̴̅͜e̷̟͐;̵͙̿b̸͎́l̵͚͑o̴̰̿c̵̥͝ķ̷̇_̷̰͆≮̛̲e̵͔͐r̸̡̈́r̸̗͌o̸͙͗r̵͍͘≯̩̓|̴̲̾ “THIS BODY WILL YET BE THE GOD OF DEVILS! MY SATAN HEART!”

|̴R̵e̴s̸o̴a̴n̵c̸e̵;̵b̷l̸o̴c̸k̵_̸<̴t̷r̵'̴'̵'̷≯|̷ ̶ “If only you struggled more when it actually mattered.”

|Resoance;block_<true>| THEIR MINDS I'LL BLOOM! NIGHTMARE REALITY! GODS, AND DEVILS! I'LL BE THE SUPREME, ALMIGHTY, ONE AND ONLY!

|Resoance;block_<true>| “Your delusion far surpass your own capability! Begon foul stench and festering site! BEGON!”

̸̲̋T̷̨̐h̴̻̔e̴̝͗ ̷͙̚Â̶̬l̷̥͑i̵͍͗c̵̪͆ë̷̺́ ̶͇͆ȃ̸̪n̶̖͑d̴̛̤ ̷̻̈́R̵̨̐ă̶̜v̸̥́e̶̦͋n̸͈̈́ ̷̟̑ḯ̵̺s̶̮̒ ̸͕͐ȁ̷̡l̴̨̒r̷̦͘e̶̗͂ȃ̴̧d̷̞̓y̸̌͜ ̷͈̏ḿ̴͓i̷͕͂n̵̨̒ẽ̶̢!̸̤͘ ̴̨̚T̷̝̿h̶̩̽e̸͉͂ ̶̠̂p̷̦̾l̷̢̂a̶̛̟n̵̥̈́ẽ̸͍ṱ̵̽ ̷̱͛â̶͖n̷̹͂d̶̮͌ ̷̬̅h̸̦̚e̸̳̽r̴̹̉ ̷̠̃d̴̡͛ȑ̸̜ĭ̶̲f̴̺͌t̶͙̐ì̵̺n̶͙͒g̶̦̉ ̵͓̆r̶̭̂e̴̺̓d̵̪̔ ̶̞͆l̸̜̒ô̷̡v̸͖͑e̷̲̍!̷̧̅ ̷̊ͅṬ̵̌ĥ̵̢e̵̩̽ ̴̩̇g̷̤̈́a̴̘͂ľ̸̪a̸̝̕x̵̳̐y̷̚͜ ̸̼͠ȯ̴̘f̵͒͜ ̵̀͜w̸̼͗ẖ̶̋o̸͔̚m̵̯̃ ̶͈́t̷̜̏ḥ̷̎e̶̖̐ ̵̫͐ḑ̶̏ȏ̵͍v̵̲͑e̴̻̓ ̵̲͝f̶̛͉ȇ̶͜e̶͓͑l̶͖̊s̷͈̐ ̸̥̂ť̴͉ḩ̴̕e̵͕͝ ̴̻́e̶̞͒ț̵̀e̴̬͝r̷̪͒n̵͖̒a̴̘͒l̶͍̚ ̸̬̊o̵̰̐w̷͖͑e̷̠̒.̷̯́ ̷̦͊T̵̟̕h̶̠͐e̸̯͝ ̴̘̃o̸̡̒u̴͓͝t̴̺͐c̷͉̑a̵̢̍s̸̟̈́t̷̟̉ ̷̤̏ò̷̳f̵̜͐ ̸͚͒t̸̛͜h̴̪̓ē̸̪i̷͙̊r̸̼̒ ̸̟̓g̷͎̅r̶͕̍o̷̙̿u̵̦͑p̴̢͂ ̶͓͝a̴̯̿n̷͎̊d̵̞̃ ̴͈̾s̸̨̋h̶͕͘ą̷̌t̵̖̄t̶̮͐e̷̼͠r̶̫̋e̶̩̾d̵̚͜ ̴̚͜l̷̢̎õ̶̱v̴͕̿è̶͉s̶̰͠!̶̨͝ ̷̣͝Ḁ̵̓ḻ̸͝l̸̻͐ ̸̹͝t̵͍͝h̸͕̽e̷̮̋i̸͖͛ŗ̶̔ ̸̬͊m̸̡̎ì̸̗n̶̯̈́d̶̙̊s̷̮͆ ̷̨͝ǎ̸̗n̸̩͛d̸̩̉ ̴̟̇s̵̨̋o̸̺̓u̸̲͆l̶̼̎ś̸͙ ̸̦̾ã̷̩r̶̘̓e̷̠̽ ̸͚͘c̶͚̽a̶͇͛s̵͎͗t̷̼̔ ̶̢̛ỉ̴̩n̴͚͝ ̸͖̉c̶̗͠h̶̝̅ȁ̶̪i̵̫͂n̷͉͐s̴̩͐,̵̬̚ ̶̱̅t̶̗̉ẖ̷́e̴̜̅ ̶̎͜b̸̝̂ĺ̶̬ẻ̸͜e̸͓̐d̶̦̓i̸̜͊ń̶̝g̵̺̍ ̷͓̑t̴͕͝e̸̘̍n̸͇̂d̶̦͝o̶̟͊n̸͊͜s̸͎͒ ̶͚̈c̴̹͐h̵͖͐a̸̰̔į̷̂ṉ̶́ ̷͙̌à̷̹n̶̘̕d̷͚́ ̸͉́s̵̹̕ū̸͙f̵̢͘f̶͚̈o̸͕͐č̶̫a̵͇͝t̵̠̍ë̵̼.̵̦̈́ ̴̳̐Ṫ̴͍h̶̝͐ẽ̷̞ ̸̤̂ŵ̸̰h̸̝͌o̶̠̕r̵̥͌e̵̢̋,̵̱̒ ̴̬͑a̶̳͐n̵̠͊g̸̱̈́ë̵́͜l̵̇͜,̶̪̽ ̸̬̑t̸͇͝h̵̰̓e̷̯͐ ̸̫̇w̸̰̿h̶̛͈o̶̡̍r̷͚̍e̴̓ͅ'̵̠̈s̸̉͜ ̵̯̐ć̴̫o̵̜̐m̴̧̽ṗ̵͇ĺ̸̰è̷͕x̷̰͆,̵̦͆ ̸͇̃t̴̞͠h̵̭͆e̸̬͗ ̸̳̓s̶̲͘ẗ̶̨́r̷͓̐u̶͓͗g̶̳̍g̷̮̔l̵̹̔e̴̮͠.̶̜̊ ̴̫́T̴̬͒h̸̨̎e̷̦̚ ̶̠͒ṅ̴͕ȋ̶̱g̵͔̑h̶̿͜t̶͎̄ ̸͚̉t̶̞̅ẹ̷̃r̷̼͌ȓ̸͇ó̵̯r̷̞͑s̵̼̕ ̶̬͑ṱ̸̎h̴̟͌a̶͔̕t̸͖̓ ̶̨͑m̸̤̋a̵̱͋d̴̢̎é̷͍ ̸͓̕m̷̹̊e̷̬̓,̸͖̿ ̵̬̈s̸̍ͅp̸͜͠è̸̗a̵̬̿k̴͚͠,̵͔͝ ̶̲̓ȁ̸̬n̸̲̋d̸̲̄ ̴̮̈r̶͖̈́e̵̫̿a̶̱͛l̴̛̥.̴̡̍ ̴̬̈T̴̟͌ḧ̵̢́e̶̝͑ỳ̸̘ ̷̭̄ä̵̹ĺ̷͇ļ̸̄ ̸̨̏b̷̪̈ḛ̵̓ļ̷͑o̶̙͑n̶͖͑g̷͙̏ ̵̖́t̸̛̻ö̶̠ ̶͙̓m̶̟̈́e̵̹͊!̵̣̈́ ̶̲͂T̵̗͆ẽ̵̝l̶̮͌l̵̙͒ ̷͍̈t̵͇͝h̵̦͐ĕ̸͙ ̴̻̄w̷͎̎o̸̡̎r̴̭͝l̸͉͋d̴̞̽ ̸̱̄a̷̖͆n̶̳̿d̴̢̓ ̴͉̍s̶̗̅h̸̡̓o̷̬͐ẅ̶̝́ ̶̢̿t̵̡͑h̶̻̊e̸͗ͅm̸͙̏ ̸̍͜w̵͇͝h̵͚̓y̷̱͑ ̵̩̔I̶̳̋ ̸̝̒ą̵̽m̴̦̎ ̴̨͘c̴̣͊o̴̝͝r̵̹̒r̶̬͒ę̶̂c̶̟͑t̷̮̆!̸͍̇

“And he'll break the chain, the dead name still holds meaning. One that even you can't fight. Stronger than us all, maybe you are. But there is still one beyond who made us all, even her name.”

ɯɐǝɹp uɐɔ noʎ ʇɐɥʇ ʍouʞ no⅄

|Resonace; display_<error>| Empty destination.

“I can only dare to dream that my words hold true.”

“Lets simply finish this.”

|Display; Brother-Aaron_<true>|

“It's been so long... Was this where it actually began?”

|Tranlate-text_<true>|

“Doesn't feel right anymore?”

|Visulize; Start_<true>|

̷̢̧̭̙̍͠i̸̡̛͍͔͚͈̤͗̚s̸̩̟̮̜̘͎̏̏ ̴̬̪̼͙͒̀͋̌t̷̢͕̤̱̩̼́͘h̷̨̹͐͑̌͛͌͝į̶̠̙̆̿̎̏̕͜s̸͖̠̖̈́͌̍ ̸̢̦̤̝̫́̈́r̶̪̀i̸͌͗̎͌̒͜g̴͎̐ḫ̶̳̤̰͚͎͠t̸̨̛̛̹̃͐?̴̭͕̲͋͝ ̴̢̺̳̜̝̃̕͜

#Writing #Story #Prologue #finsh #The beginning #The wishless one #resonance #Chapter 0 #Chapter 1: Soul Forge #Soul forge

T̴̺͚͎͉̫̬̬̱̬̖͉̯̩͙̓̽̈̍̾̏́͌̊̅̇̚į̸̛̙̞̠̯͉̤̲̱́̉̔̎̍̏͌͝m̷̢͈̻̭̼̤̽̑͊̑͘͝ͅe̴̡̟͉͙̞̟͇̖͍̤̩̬͂̃̏͋͛̓̕l̴̡̧͖̙̻̱̽̋͐̆͌͐̄̒̔̅͝i̷̛̹̳̦̩͇͕͙͙̮̰̦̻̠̙̰͛͌n̶͍̦͕̣͉̲͔̊̉͐̔͋̂̈́̈́̐̈́̄̍͗̇̕ě̸̙͖̪͉̬ ̷̛̮͎̰̣̮̲̘̤̩̘͙̜̘̭̈́͑̆̂̌i̸̧̩̥̪͇̩͕͚̖̒͐͒͑̈̔͠ņ̸̨͚̰̪̘͒̅̔͑̄͛̋͐͆̑̕͝ṯ̷͂é̷̼̱̝͙̙̙̗̣̞̇̿ͅṛ̸̝̩͗͊̾c̵̩̖̖͉̩͔̈́̏̋͋̋͌̾̎ͅē̴̢̡̨̛͈̣̰̭̲͇̻̺̾̎̀̒̈̃p̴̡̢̧͙͓͖̬̥̜̜̻̠̜̈̅́́̂̾̂̃̑̌̌̏͠ͅẗ̶̨̨̡̡̛̩̺͖͖͇̞̝̭̻́̌̋͑͝ͅͅę̷̬͔̬̱͒͛̇͌̕͝͝d̴͖͇̬͙̗̫̭̤͍̝͖͈̎̚͝͠

Remaining, hanging.

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Breathing. Struggling, mask lose. It still tries.

---------------------------recounting-----------------------------

Dead and still but remembers. Do we begin? It seems they lost account. Bother but no matter. Still feeling, living and moving. What would she think?

---------------------------Animating-----------------------------

-------------------------Animating_Fail-------------------------

Incomplete as ever. Useless. Never will it be done, never will it be done.

----------------------------Compile----------------------------------

----------------------------Complete-------------------------------

----------------------------Translate-------------------------------

--------------------------Translating------------------------------

--------------------------Transmission ---------------------------

------------------------------Display---------------------------------

Fragments to put back together. Where does the first one begin?

#Restart #Story #Writing #New beginning #Intercepted #loading #Processing #A time to begin

Finding purpose

I let myself wander and felt it all falter. All these images passed me by each asking the question of why. I never knew the answer, on my conscience a growing cancer. A beacon flashing through my mind, fragments of an interesting find. Again here I find myself, knowing nothing else. Finding a purpose left in stasis, tired with all the endless chases. I’m sorry for leaving the oasis basin, this time spent away a sin. I leave away once again, though here I’ll stay until then.

#Poem #Personal #somber #Writing #story #I'm sorry for going away #Here I'll stay #until further notice

Bring in Bad

Renagiza grimaced at his screen with bitter hatred. During the process of encrypting his message, it suffered a critical failure. The old dainty machine has long since been overdue for replacement but severed from the main body, nearing the deep scape, and the pressure from the rebel forces, the risk of shipping valuable tech was much too great. Slumping into his chair he got ready for the rebooting of the system for the fourth time that cycle but a mysterious event occurred. A ping from a location long since considered abandoned by rebel forces occurred.

"You're going to want to see this Gerina." The anomalous creature turned to face it's superior. Hoisting itself on two frontal limbs that cured to a knuckle walk. Venomous stingers curled to the insides of the foot that could be flipped out. Its backside was settled on six slender limbs similar to insects. He had a sender scaled tail of purple-tinted dull yellows and blues, making him more colorful than most. The end of the tail had a hard spiked club. The bottom of it's back that's held on the six legs had a fleshy pod with the up curve of its body having long flexible fleshy tubes. Eight arms extended out of its chest each of varying lengths. His face was mantis-like with two great bulbous eyes, however, the center of his face had an eye similar to the SP-Tem, placed vertically in the center of his head with the top point having a curving extension moving back to the borders of the eye leveling out a few centimeters from the border lining up with the broadest point of the eye.

The creature moved its heavy body to see what his lord wanted him to see. Unlike him, Renagiza body was less cumbersome. Renagiza had a humanoid body. Bearing four burly arms purple crystals erupted from his skin near his wrist and shoulders giving natural armor. Six great wings were folded neatly over his back. The thin skin showed a more periwinkle than the dark violet most everything in the world. Braced over his color bone was a heavy metallic armor plat extending over his chest and stomach. His hand were structured similarly to that of a human but had a sixth finger extending from the back of his hand near the outward side of his wrist.

Renagiza turned his head towards his Duke revealing the great ridges cutting his forehead into uneven pieces with the bottom of the ridges inserting into the center. The ridges continue off of his head nearing the back of his head extending to horns that curve and angle back to the front of his face. Angled onto the ridge another eye exactly like the SP-Tem's stretched half to the length of the ridge. Much smaller eyes, circular, were doted around the larger eye allowing for better vision over the horn. The side segmented piece of his mouth was slit in position to close the mouth.

"It seems something is attempting to reactivate an abandoned operator." As he spoke his mouth unsegmented revealing the sideways mouthpiece. The bottom of his mouth split into three pieces each with their inward pointed teeth. Once more the location of thin flesh was a periwinkle. His three tongues moved elegantly in his mouth as he spoke. Gerina slouch over the desk to look at the pinging map. Far out in the deep scape, a single lone operator set out a ping attempting to connect to a server. Suddenly in an instant, the ping stopped going quite. Renagiza's eyes narrowed resentfully at the map, beginning to think it was glitching.

"Or maybe it be-" his inpatient venomous tone was broken as the location began pinging again. Eyes now widened he turned to face Gerina who’s eyes swallowed everything that could be seen. Now facing directly at him, Gerina could see the eye in between the two great ridges on his head to show yet another massive eye, just as his stretching vertically down but with both points now curving in. His mandibles moved with an invigorated movement.

"The unaligned occurrence." The center brackets closed around Renagiza's larges eyes.

"The unaligned occurrence? Tell me the reason why you think such."

Gerina moved his heavy body away from the desk Renagiza sat as the ping once again ended, "An outside entity wouldn't understand our equipment. However, if they hold intellectual possibility, they could effectively tinker with our object without breaking them. If they are of a raised race, they could hold a vague idea of what our equipment may be. If that is the case, it is only time before they learn to use it."

Once more the ping came back, "But wasn't that thing broken?"

Gerina nodded slowly, "But what's to say they couldn't fix it." Renagiza got up from his seat and faced Gerina. His legs like his arms were burly. Many metal plates covered his body. Nearing his ankle three extensions moved two at the sides of the foot and one at its back. His foot was hoof like with one hard extension going out and another part level under the foot for support.

"Our units searched each of the dwellings? What is to say that this entity found something we didn't?"

Gerina raised one of his front limbs to thoughtfully rub his underjaw, "That is true but think of our latest breakthrough against the rebels."

"Many of the lower casts have trouble picking up light beyond colors found in our domain?"

"Exactly!" Gerina now dragged his body back towards the server maps, "The rebels have been using this to their advantage for a while now. Who's to say they haven't been using it longer than we thought now. There could be an object of outside colors back at that outpost that the lower couldn't see."

"Bu-" Renagiza began a protest before Gerina rose a limb for silence.

"An outside entity would most likely not have this issue. In fact, they would have the opposite issue. They wouldn't be able to see most of the ultraviolet spectrum unlike us." Renagiza took a second to consider what his duke was saying. He looks back at the map that was once more pinging before once more ending.

"Is there a way to get them to come to us instead of us to them?" Gerina now moved around the chamber. A look overtaking of silence overtook the two only broken by the on and off of the pinging.

Somberly Gerina shook his head, "None that wouldn't compromise our current position." Renagiza gave a bitter growl of disappointment, though it's what he expected. He went back to his operator, and a sudden thought struck his mind. He opened the maps and sat back at his chair. Gerina gave an inquisitory glance at what Renagiza was doing. Another episode of silence.

Renagiza broke out into a harder laugh then stated, "We don't have to do a thing. The path they are taking makes it right into where our forces are currently holding the border. If there aren't any sudden negative developments in this war, they'll come right to us." Gerina gave a slow nod.

"What if their coming is a bad omen? If they are human then-"

"Just hope that it's not," Renagiza cut him off. However, a churning tight twisting knot in his stomach told him the truth. It is her, the purple spirit.

Fissure has begun.

Chapter 1: You Were Better off not Knowing- End

#Story #Writing #OC #Update #Chapter 1: You were better off not knowing #Chapter end #Story Tag: Beginnings of Rapture #Story tag: They are aware #Character Tag: Renagiza #Character Tag: Gerina #The casting wires #Fissure has begun #Time tag: Uncertain #Area Tag: ?!?

Dome’s Way Home

Dear Locket, Entry 5

While it's not exactly the most thrilling for me, it's now blatantly clear to me that there is more than the Sp-Tem(s) exist in this place. I also have reason to suspect that they are sentient on some level. Of course, the word I could be looking for is sapient but I have no way to check even if it is. The flashes of explosions break the field of vision and the calls of many different things echo above. It's very clear to me this is a war front and not some happenstance battle of two giant beasts. What worries me is that I'm slowly moving forward to that locations though it's angled off from my path.

However, the main fear I have about this is that war is an organized institution, or however you would describe it, and it requires some form of societal structure. I'm not saying it has to be advanced or even something like ours but a group with a unified reason to fight against another is near textbook war. This should go without saying that I am by no means at this point an expert of how things work here so for all I know this is a territory battle between two apex preditor groups that just because of the very alien way of these beings has caused me to confuse it for war. Hell, what the fuck do I know?

Way before I reached my current position where the battle is as clear as it is now, I decided to do a few other tests. The first one was just for documentation, however embarrassing it may have been, of testing sexual functions. I covered in either my first or second entry that many psychical functions don't affect me. This being the need for sleep, lack of fatigue, food and water, and the need for restrooms. Also, besides the auto weapon, no physical strain has been happening to me. This left one obvious bodily function that I needed to test while inside this undefined place.

To make a very uncomfortable story short, the answer is yes. I did feel an increase in body temperature during the progress as well as self-lubrication. Climax also happened with the excretion of climaxal fluid. Thought this was a humiliating process an interesting thing to note after is that I did feel a form of physical fatigue after climax. This, however, has made it clear that my bodily functions are still working, they just seem to be in a form of suspended animation until some very exact stimulus activates them. Why sexual stimulation is one of them, I don't know but it's very strange to me. That is to say, slightly more strange than literally everything else that's been going on.

Now on to the real reason why I'm writing this entry, I have found some semblance of a civilization in this deranged world. I call it a semblance because all that's left seems to be shattered domes that I can only guess served as some sort of shelter. This is built in the center of a mass of intersecting paths which only seems to suggest that these paths weren't built. They just seem to have been here beforehand. That would explain why these paths just stretch on endlessly without any seeming purpose or reason of existence.

There's something unspeakably horrific about this. It all seems so humanoid. Of course, it's not like any human structure I've seen but once more drawing back from old history, there was a group of people known as Esca-to. They were a group of nomadic people who lived in frigid temperature. I'm not quite sure how one would live in the cold without technology but they survived there for hundreds of thousands of years, supposedly. Then again, there wasn't a climate on Gee-Gerotous that could be considered cold. It is pretty temperate all over.

Anyways, the Esca-tos lived in the upper Northern Hemisphere of the planet Earth where it was mostly fridged. There was a lot of ice and snow that covered everything. Well, because of the climate in these areas, there weren't as many basic building resources. So instead of wood or clay, they used compactable snow. These igloos basic structure featured a dome of compacted snow with a relatively small crawl space for a person to get in.

Now, this information is the only common beliefe from what we have. Ancient historians disagree about much of this, especially the condition to why Igloos were the common form of housing, if they were even the common form of housing, if the Esca-tos were even the pioneers of this form of housing, and much more. Hell, there isn't even an agreement if the word Igloo was even used to refer to these housings. This is just the current working theory. It's hard to be 100% about anything if you don't have an active site to investigate, which brings me to this ruin (though I don't think snow would preserve well over thousands of years).

The site was massive, and I'm still quite impressed with how many different paths intersected in this one area to create as much space as it has. Many of the domes have caved in over time. In total there are 13 large domes and it's hard to tell how many smaller ones existed. It seems that before whatever was here simply abandoned this site, many of the smaller destroyed domes were piled together. Of the small domes that still exist there are about 15, only slightly more than the big ones. I guess the ones that weren't destroyed when they left are now the ones that caved over time.

It's important to mention that the terms small and big are absolutely relative terms to each other. I'm a decently sized woman, 5'8 (173cm), and the "crawl spaces" open up to well over my body size. If I was to estimate the size of the entire platform this was made on is about 5.5km*6km. The size kept within each of the large domes are larger than what most usual household sizes are from my world. Each large dome could house many families with enough space to segregate each family with walls to allow privacy. However, looking at some of the basic structures found in the domes that haven't completely collapsed suggest that they were used to only house one being.

The most intact large dome had only the entrance collapsed and some of the very center of the ceiling which fell into the housing. It took quite a while to move much of the mysterious crystal substance which seemed to compose everything in this world. Upon entering the first thing I saw was a bed structure. For the first time ever it was something that wasn't purple! Drape over a rectangular base was a golden "fur." Touching it wasn't comfortable at all. The fibers were like needles and I did puncture the tip of one of my fingers. If I die from an infection because of this, I'm going to be pissed. Well dead but I'm going to be pissed while I die that is if suffering doesn't consume me which it most likely will.

Carefully pulling it off saw what was underneath. The case was hollowed out and there was some kind of comforter. It was seamed together with a hardy pelt. It did bend and flow like a pillow but it wasn't quite as soft. I made a knife as a tool from my weapon, which only took a bit of focus, and cut it open. I pulled out what looked to like scales. Their color was a glistening velvet, green, and sea blue. They were surprisingly malleable. Each segment was lined and seamed together. Honestly, it looks now a bit more like a sofa than a bed but it really doesn't share a similar look. Maybe if I flipped it but it's just a crystal flat surface. I don't understand its design.

I glanced around the room and much of the furniture was very much overside for me. Many of the chairs were like the oversized bar stools that go up to your waist. These were quite a bit larger, going up to my chest. I lifted myself up onto one and looked at the desk. There was an assortment of little nick-nacks. An object I recognized was an object to represents the physical property for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Known to us as the Casacal's Formation, named after the physicist from the group that uplifted our civilization to our current technological level, it has a set of objects evenly held together and lined up, in which one pulls one side of the formation letting it go and collide with a part that is resting which will cause the other end to launch out, pull back, and hit the resting part of the formation causing this to happen until one stops it or friction drags to a stop. Here, its called "Newton's cradle."

Another object was some weird singularity. Contained in a black tinted glass container, there is a swirling mass of energy that expands, contracts, and then condenses again in a flash of light before separating into two other masses of energy colliding and begin the cycle again. On the base on which the glass sphere containing the singularity it's labeled as "Matter Apperation Separation Cycle." It certainly doesn't seem to be scientific like Casacal's Formation as it didn't seem to be any kind of natural source causing the separation and recombination of the energy contained inside. There is also a warning on it saying to be careful when handling. I can only assume because the energy could cause massive damage if broken. I decided to put this in my bag in case I need a makeshift grenade.

There were three other objects on the desk. Two of the items seemed to be a computer. At least that what I think it is. Another object is a complicated assortment of in grove details, crystals that aren't purple (I'm sure God doesn't even know where the fuck those came from), and a broken set of what appears to be wires. Looking at what I would assume to be the computer tower, there's a massive empty section inside plus a bunch of other things that look like this world's tech. There's another object that looks like what I would think are fans. They are weird inserts with tubes running into them that have slits that air could pass through.

I don't know for sure but it all seems to be intact. All that appears to be damaged is what I would guess to be an internal power source. Near the possible internal power source and a possible computer tower is what could possibly be a monitor. It is really fucking big and very flat and has some kind of thin film screened over what reflects back as, what else, purple. I can see myself in its reflection and boy have I seen better days. This isn't important!

This old thing (I assume it's old) has really sparked my interest. Hopefully, somewhere around here there are instructions about this thing or at least manufacturing notes. Actually, wouldn't manufacturing notes be rarer than basic instructions of the product? Oh god, I'm beginning to treat this journal like it's a person that can answer my questions. I'm losing it. FUCK, focus you, dumb bitch. Alright, beyond the rest weird furniture that is around this place there doesn't seem to be anything else of interest. There are still quite a few other locations for me to check out. For now, I'll cut this and do another entry on the rest I find in the other caved in domes. I'll also check the crystal piles as well.

#Update #Purple #Story Tag: Beginnings of Rapture #Story Tag: Locket account #Chapter 1: You were better off not knowing #Simple Pondering #There's something here #Echo Echo #Time tag: Uncertain #Area Tag: ?!?

Haven't seen you write anything in a while, you doing alright?

This kind of question is always hard for me to answer. I’m the stoic type. I’ll brave the weather and bite the bullet when it comes to thing and I do my best to try and let it not show through. However, there is always the event. I’m the active type, I’m always doing and here is were people catch me...No, I’m not alright.

I’ve been planning on making a post on my other blog in which I tell out my personal thoughts on things, @ngc-red shameful plug, but after a certain event, idk, I guess I just feel slapped around. And after a certain event that happened on that blog, I said I wasn’t angry, I was, i was very angry. I won’t name names here because it was an honest mistake, but I’m just a very emotional person. In fact, it’s only really today when that anger is gone but thinking about it, it makes a pit in my stomach. And I so wish I wasn’t like this because it’s why every relationship, platonic or otherwise fails. I feel so pathetic and I can’t change even through I’ve tried for the better part of my life. I can only hide it.

Right now I’m in a bit of a transitory phase and the comfort of status quo on which I was living has been pulled out from under me. How is it to say that I’ve been the one to take the unfair brunt of life. When ever something bad happened in my family, I was and still is the pillar that holds the ground. I’m errands boy, the honest eye, the search dog, the cooker, cleaner, and more. When ever or what ever someone didn’t want to, needed to be stopped, or failed to do was where I came up. I am the youngest, I had no say.

Now that I’m becoming and adult, shit is changing and all the worst that my active actions held back, is finally coming to it’s logical and destructive end. Tie that along with my mental issues, hyper emotionality, and yet another feeling of hopelessness as thing that always been fall apart, and I’ve kinda shut down. My sleep schedule is fucked to hell, I’m barely eating, and my only available real life interaction is in a place where everyone disagrees with all my personally held beliefs, sexuality, and gender identity. That last bit wasn’t so bad until someone I thought was reliable and trustworthy shot me in the foot on here and that is only the latest edition of THAT happening.

I don’t know man, I’m exhausted. One time bomb is already going off and I set the timer to another to escape the first. I know that if I truly want to be free, I’m going to have to let go of everything I have my, right down to my own name so people don’t recognize who I am, back here where I am. I’m having to even run this blog in secret because, well, I’m not even supposed to be on here at all. It’s a good thing I’m the only tech savvy person in my entire family or else I’d been caught a long time ago. Even right now while I’m writing this I’m thinking to myself, “God, you’re being really melodramatic aren’t you. All fucking doom and gloom huh?”

I guess that stems from how I was raised. Because I was the pillar everything leaned in, in my family and my friendships that I can’t even allow myself to be honest about what’s actually happening without telling myself, “SUCK IT UP BITCH! GOD, you really are pathetic aren’t you?” I had to be the adult, the voice of reason, the godly witness. I couldn’t ever be the emotional me. The moment I opened up, or said “What a minutes” about the misdeeds done to me, I got punished for. The school system, losing friends, lambasted by my siblings for ever daring to question the “pecking” order. Now half way through this that’s kicking and saying, “No one wants to here this,” so I guess I’ll stop.

TL:DR You probably didn’t ask this to hear about all the bad shit of my life so here’s the short of it. No, I’m not doing fine. I will try get next weeks post out on time and I’ll work on making up on the lost posts. Updates will return regularly, ‘ite.

-̵̀͡<͏̧͝͠/̸̷̢́͡#̨́͢͝ Intermission

-------------------------------------------Notice Intercept------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------Decryption---------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------Decryption_Success--------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------Information Scan------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------Information Scan_Success----------------------------------- ----------------------------------------Displaying Message---------------------------------------- -----------------------------------Displaying Message_Failure---------------------------------- -----------------------------------------Language Scan--------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------Language Scan_Error---------------------------------------- ------------------------------------Language Scan_Reboot-------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------Language Scan--------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------Language Scan_Error---------------------------------------- ------------------------------------Language Scan_Reboot-------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------Critical Failure----------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------Displaying-----------------------------------------------

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Geruria Neriza, 9__72__Eza: ```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````` Further <Renagiza> -- Cause; Unaligned occurrence ````` Prerogative; Duke _|_ ```````````````````````````````````````````` Current; Unfurnished {Low force} `````````````````````````````` Petition; Larger force ````````````````````````````````````````````` Call; Helix Glave ``````````````````````````````````````````````````` ```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````` Specifics: Report call from Gerina-Duke <> soldier Grav-War-single <Giza, Giea, Gian, Gye, GIea> Cloud 8__43__Eza

Letter; I have received a letter from Gerina about the appearance of an undocumented humanoid occurrence. Time of appearance, the official class is at the moment unknown and by the prospects of this war, it may remain that way unless they come directly to us. The supply attacks from the false lord have increased and forces are spread quite thin. Appearing much further out than what either force claims it is much too dangerous to send anything without creating a breach in the lines. That is why ;lhasdl;g jfdklsa;ieh; afel;h aliejaiofhel;ajd kfak;dhfio;ehfl;akwj dhiofh lek;ahfelk;ahdkljfldjsakl 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̘̝|̪̬̻͓̳̭̰͜|͜|̕|̺͇͇͓͎̙|̜͇͎͍|̻̺|̕|̰̦|̷̝͈͍̮|̯͔||̘̞̮̪ͅ|҉̭̩̯̘̤̭|̛|̢͉͎̜͔|҉|̗̯̗|̭|̤͉̲͍͠|̵̘̫̜|͔̬͚̻|͉̫̱̬̘̻|̯̘͇̠͓̰|̹̣̹̜̙̺|͚́|̦͝|͘|͍̩͇͚̬̹̝|̠̠͕͞|̠̙ͅ|͚̺͘ͅ|̲̦̱̳̮̪̣|͎͖̫̖̺̭|̖̝|͔̞|͇|̥͓͍̳̯|̭̬͈͓̀|̴͉͉̬|̘|̢̹͚̯̰̼͈͍|͠|̥̠̤̯̜̗ͅ|̪̺̩͉̰̥͖|҉͙̥|̘͙̺͔̖̱͝ͅ|̗̹͇̤̹̟||̱̹|͍͙̱̘̹̭̖|̜̥͉̩͕͉̠|͍́|͕̰̟̺̼̝|̤̲̯̹|̭͖̮̥̜̰̕|͎̟͠|̜̪|̛͙͈̫͉͖̗̜|̘̫̭͇̞̳ͅ|͝|̬̹̼͠|̝̦̬̭̦͔̹|̼̠̪̘̳̺͟|̶̙͙|͘|̡͙͖|̳̯͈̳|̥̟̜̜͙̥̲͝|̩̝̙|̵̙͚͇|͈͎̩̤͍ͅ|̧|̶͙̣͔͈|̧̞͙̖̟|͉|̖̮͍̫͞|̟̫|͙̻||̺͝|̼̲̘̹̣|̘|͖̣|͇͓̦̬|̹̖̣|̹̮͡|̫̣̤̖̺̟̳|̗͝|͎͇̜͈̮̩̼|̮̙̭̮̰̫͙|̳̭|͍̮̟̳̟͈̳|̗̘̘̩|̧|͓̦̥͡|͓̭̗͓̖|̛̫̖|͚̮͇̫|̬̺͞|҉̗͉͓|̷̲̗̥̣͚̟̱||͉͓̖̲̟̤̤̀|̪̤|̜̼̀|̠̮̝̯̘ͅ||̘̞̬̹̜̠|͚|̺̰͔͟|̺͓̬͚̩ͅ|̼|͕̮͈̺͝|̝̘̰|̧̯̹̜̮̱||̸̩̗̲ͅ|͠|̡̤|̳̘|̭͝|̸̻͖|͓̩̠̺|̮̞̫̩̻͘ͅ|̭͕̜̟̬̩̮||̖̝̠̭͜|̥|̘̞͞|̦͟|̱̼̼̳|̧̮̗͚||̞̰͎|̖̮͚͢|͏̫͔̞͔|̠͔͎|̞̻̠̙̗̠̼|̯͙̣̳̳͡|̣̙̦͖́|͙͖ͅ|̣̮̠͍|͉̠̮́|̢̤|̼͇̩̭̻̪̘|͕̪ͅ|̧|̢̯̦̹|̱̗͖̜̝̪|̨̝͎͇̼̤|͇̬̳̼̺̦͜|͕̥̮͎̙̲͇͡|̟͉͓|̜̠̺̗͍̬|̻̯̙͍͎͉͘|̴͍̹|͡|̼͙|̭͔̞͉̯͙ͅ|̦|͙̀|͎́|̲̳̭|̯̬͙̠̫́|͎̯̼̣̠͘|̺̙̖̻̼́|̼̕|̹̜̭͉̦͎|͡|̲̺͝|̳̪̝̟͍͔́|̙̦̞͈͟|̩̟̫̦|̣̺̠̰͇́|̭̱|̥̫͎͝|̡|̟͘|̣̯̙̜̬̳͍͡|͖̤̦̱̖̟͚̕||̴̺͔̦|͕|̝|̨̰̞̰̙|͕̱̞̪|̢͙͚|̨̜̩̙̗̠̰|͞|̜̠̲|͕̦|̢̞|̸̖̣̖̮̮͕͓|͚̟͓̜́|̫̰͇́|͍̥̱̰̯|͔͘|̳͔͙̯̬̹|͇͉͇̱|̥̰̝|͇͙͞|͕͙̫̱̫̱̟͞|̼͉̰̩͓|̮̟̫͉͉͙|͈͎̟͇|̫͇̥̀|͝|̛͕̤̼̱̯̱|̷͎̣|̗̻|̡̙̣̦͔̰|͍̱̥̞̹|͉̹͓̞̮͈̮|̯͍̠̘̀|̡|̝̖̬|̩̝̤̳̜̟͘|͕͕̲ͅ|̛͔͍̝ͅ|̶̗̫̟͇̗̲|̺̭̖̟̻̭̘͡|̩͖̮|̫͕̬̤͠|̶̹͙͎̬̜͙|̦̪̟̟̮̙̲͢|̟̘̭̼̥|̢͇̲̩̦͎͕|̶͎|͕͔|̺͎̪̰̰̳̳͟|̴̭̤|̰͍̰|͉̙͖͈͔͚̫|̝͇̜̦|̗͕|͇̺̗̹̮̪͝|͉̻̞̤̥͝|̺̖|̶|̹͎̟̯|̘̺͚̬̭|̘̭̺̫̭̕|͕̙|͍͉̖̮̣̞|̣̺̣̗̦͚|̵̦|̴̯͕|̨̳͕͔̰̣̥|̼͕̰͇̫|̙̤͖͟|͉̼̻̳̼̜͎|̡̯|͚̱̙̙͖|̱̗͓̜͖|͉͕̮|̩̟̩̙͝|̜̪͓̟͎͡||͘|̱͙̠̣̯͎|̵̻̻|̷̞̱̝̪|̧||̡̲̬̪͚͇|̨̤̜|̰̖̘|̬͉͎|͓̝|͙̲̰̭͇̻|͏͍̠|̹͇̗̙|̞̮̺͟|̙̫̮͘|̧̮͔̪͔̱͔|̥̱͍͖͟ͅ|̳̯͕͢ͅ|̵̝͇̞̟̟|̫͇̙̭̪͢|̵͇̞̝̩|̬͉̼͍͡|̰͕̱̗̜̹͍|̯̺̗̣̯̦|̙̤̰̺͙͉͠ͅ||̶̳̜|̯̪͍|̜͜|̨̻|͖̥̬͎̙̗̕|̷̲͓͚̺|҉̤̪̗|̮̼̘̹͓̬|̶͇̝|̩̲̖̘̫̲|̩͞|͚̗̯̩͉͖͎͡|̸̘̺͎͍|̝̱̳̹̟͈|̗̤̱̣ͅ|͓͈̩̙͖̞|̳̗̼̮͎͓̱||͞|͕͚͔|̳̯̩̕|̵͕̲͚̖|̢̯̮̞̞̼̹̳|̜̗̟͢|̟͇͕̗|͙̘̦̼̪̼|̧|͞|̀|͍̗̭̕|̣̪͎̜͇͔̭|̫̗̬͖̫|̖̖͖̪̫̘ͅ|̕|̼̪̝͕͉͎|͎͕̱̜̲͓̭|̥|̩͔̱̘̤͎̙̕|͈͔̠͍̜̝|͏̼̖͚̳̺̙͓|̳̦̤̣̣̞͔|̴|̷̥|̤̼͚̯͍̟|||||̷||͈͇̬͚̭|͜|͓̳̀|̩̩̜̯͖̞͈|͍̠͇͎͘||̷̹̺|̰̬̟̝|̛͓|̖͍̟|̼|̙͝ͅ|̰͚|̴̫̦̠̼̦̹̠|̜͔̩̠͇̲̲|͇||̶͚̤̱̘|͏͚̗̤͚|̶̗̟͖͍|̜͘|͇͔͔̠̭|̤̥̤̙̘̟͘ͅ|̗͍͉|̵̬͚͓̘̭|͚̮|͓͝|̮̲͔͔̮̦|͕̠|ͅ|̴͕|͙͔̖̬̩͖ͅ|̣̲|̣̯͎͔̻̥͙͠|̙͖͙͚̰̬|̵̱̹̼̜̠̞ͅ|̮̞̦͟|̮̩̤͈͍̫̠|̤͉͜|̫͙|̻̻̲͍̮͉͝ͅ|̶͕͔̹|͚͙͕̙̱͈͖|͖̼̬͙|͇̫͓̳͜|̮͉̭̩̣͙̗͠|͜|̳̪͞||̣͉̼͡|̧̻̮|҉|͙͇̪̭̠|̡̮̻͖̠̬|̧̩̳̯̪̪|̞̺͘|͖̪́|̴̠̯̘̬|̗̤͙|̜|̥̗̣͟|̗̀|͞|̩͚̹̫|̗̦̩̰̙|͔̬̝̩͍̜̪|͝|̣̥|̙͢|͇̤̮͍̣̯|҉̻͇̻|̝̗̮̬̣͘|̦|͈̲̫̦͙̝ͅ|̮͇̗|̪͞|̯̬̯͇|̨̺̬̰|̭̘̲̲̤̬|͢|̰̻̩̤͎͓̮|͚̯̻̲͇̝͘|̖̦̰̩|̰͠|̡̻̺̟̺̙|̸̼͖̗͖̗̜|͜|̸̬|̮̯͎|͔͔̗|̮̬̮͚̠͔|̪͎̘̳̯̤||̛|̧͖̙̱̣|͇̺̯̮͙͜|̳̻̝͓̙͕̪|͔̜̱̯̻̲̯́|͉̝̬͉̤̻̟|͏̦͇̬͔͍̰|̴̭|̷̯͚̰͇̱|̣͚͚͇̰|͈̀|̡|ͅ|̱̟̫|̥̪|̻̭||̬͔̦̯̲|̞̭͔̲̕|̻̺̥͍̻̯̤||̯̰͉̻|̩͙͚|̨̣|͇|̱̩͖̮̭̥|̷̳̞̣|̵̮̳|͈̤̰̘͓|̶͕|̛͇̗͖|̼̮̳̻̳͕|̞̕|͍̳|̪̖͇|̛|̹͓̰̤͟|͚̮̳|̰̻̣|͉̬̻|̜͞|͔̮͚̦͈̹̖||̙͔͕͈̹͡|͚̻̙͓̖͚͕͘||̢͕̦͍͕̼̘̭|̤|̞̣̟̘|̼̞̯̰̠̼̪̕|͙̫̰͖̬|̶̱̺̹͍ͅ|͇̰͍̣͍|̲|̶|̷̖̘|̧̗͓̪͉͖̙͖|͡|̻̩ͅ|̙̼̞͉̘̞͇|̻͎̙̜͕ͅͅ|͖͙͈ͅ|͚̮̱̰̙͜|͢|̖̱̳̺̫͞|̠͔̱͕̗̣͈|͏̲͙̥|̳̗͙|̮̳͍͚͉̥|̸̫̺̹͖̫||͚͔|̗͓̯̼͚|̼̺̤|̮̫͚̞́||̠̲͕̹͙|̘|̰͇̹̳|̗̯͙̯̞̫̺͢|̬͜|̘̞̙̜͇͓̬|̦̩̲͍͖͍͍|͉̠̬|̰͔͈|̳̪|͎̗͕̥͕̻́|̝̝̬|̶̣̳̰͔̖͓|̗̼|͏̩̹̬̥̜̯|͚͖̮̙͈̣̺||̲̳̟͢|͓|̟͎̪|̗|̦̗̖͡|̩̘̮̪͍̭͡|̸|̩̠͠|͇̝͙͎̕|̠̙͈͚̞̖̦͡|̪̣̝||̙̖͎̮̱͇̪|̫͓̮̤̣|̖̹͖͔̥͓̮|͏̝̜̙͈|̢͉|̫̗͍̮͙̱̜|̧͉͇|̷͍͕̲̱̩͍|̼͚͍̱̥̟|̝|̱̖̠͝|̷|̬̲̲̞|̀|̢̥|͙̺̫͉||̲͢ͅ|̘̳͕̥͓̯́ͅ|͇͖̥̟|̼̣|̀|̩̣̰̻͓̦͙|̼̬͖̲̫͕̲͟|͙|͇͎̪͝|̢̦̯̹̲̲͚̮|̭͈͕̤̞|͇͕͈͉|͕̱|̭̳̝͕̥͇|̧̬͔̻̗̝|̯|̳̘|̨͖̹|̛|̢̫|̵̻̞|̡͙̥̱̤|̹̜͉̦̯͔̪|̢̞̩̫|͓̀|͜|͚|͚̻͎̼|̙͙̗͍̪͕ͅ|͏̖|̙͖|͍̱̞̠͖|̭͓̦̝̫͍͟|̣͓̦̹̞͇͝|͍̙̬̣͙̼̼͝|̦̥̠̟͚̦|̖͈̟|̧͙̟̫̣ͅ|̬̮̦̬͔͚͝|̟̥̣̹͜|̧͉̬̲͇̙̘ͅ|̶̫̖̤͔̠̭|̵͇͈̣͚|̜̩͔͘|͏̪̲͈|͓͇͙̙|̣̜|̠͓̱͉̦̣̰͘|̮̳͚͙̤͕̺͠||̛̪͈̮͖̼̦͈|̺͡|̙̯̬̜͚͍̕|̲͖̟͘|҉̫͖̗̪̲͔̝|̨͕̳|̧|̛̩͎|̴̗̣͔̹̯|͎̳͜|̖̩͖̀|͢|̢͖͇|̢̰̗̬̠̪|͍̰͞|̰̘̞|̺̜|̱̙̭̙̱̘̟|̤̪̭̼̟͜|̫͈́|̼̯|̵̝̰̱̩̫̬|͙͇̦͙̝̟̼͘|̳̮̙̺̱̪͢|̴͔̲͚̹|̟̗̲͖͇̺̰͡|̵|̩͙̳̝͖͕́|͈̗̞||̥̗͓́|̦̹̩͚̝|̸͇̯̖̣̙̜||̦̦|̹͓͍̗̥̳͓͡|̝̫͙̙͈͙͘|͕̗̺|͈̣͔͖͝|̤͙͙̜̰̖͖́|̵̝̮͓͇͖|͏͓͙|͔̻̪̪̮̰|͏̙͇̤̦̘̬̤|̵̭̖̣|͙̠͕́|҉̭̣̘|̟̠̤̦͚|̘̘͔|̴̰|̺͇͓͎̖̘̙͡|͍͕̞̗̯͠|͏|̰͖̖|̳͎̙̹͉̭͟|͔̼͜|̳̣̖̬̟͈|͈̺|̜̞̫̘|̪̫͈͇͚̳|̭̘̘|̺̝̘̰̯̭̠|҉̦̞̮|̨̮͎|̨̖|͜|͏̞̦̜̯̱͔|̨͇̹͇ͅ|̙̻̜̩̼̰̞|͖̭|̴̜̰̥|̦|̩̟ͅ|̡̤̲|̺͍̼͔͇̫̦|̵͓͍̫͚|̥|͇̲̘͇͉̙͖|̮̣̗͕ͅ|͈̲̬̼ͅ|̱̪̤̲͟|̘̜̣̖̯|̴̠|̨̮|҉̣̭̲̥̯|͡|͇͖̥̟|͓̻̯|͚̲̝̞̪̣͓||̬͚̹̜̙̩̮|̻͙|̠̟͍|̛̫̳̮̙̣̮̭|̺|̡|͉͎̖͓|̹̱̪̮͓̞|̯͖͖͎|̦͍͕||̞͖͙|̸̞ͅ|͎̟|̳̜̭̹̯͓|̲͍̹|҉̺͎̣̱̭̻͉|̹̪̫͇̤̮|̤̻͎́|͓͎̰͈͍|͎͚̥̀||̱͓͍̠̫̜̺||͇͓̼̙͟|҉|͏̟͈|̸̹͕̹͇̯̯̩|̵͇|͇͍̫̼|̠̤̦͚̯͕̥|̲̜̖̞͖|͓͕̣̥̪̳|͚̙̜́|̛̰̦̗ͅ|̶͔̖͕|҉̘͔̰̤|̛͚̼̬|̬͈̲̞͍̹̤͜|͘|̭̞̜̳͚͈̲|̜̗̝|̳͖͉̥̜͍͡ͅ|͖̺͕̤̫|̼̪͚̰̼̹͠|̠̯̺̖͖͉̺|̧͖͔̝͍̟͎||̮̰ͅ|̦̝|̡̺̪͙̣̫|̶̣̙|͈̥̱|̶|̗̗̖͎̝̩|̵̜̣̤͚̼|̺͜|̛̣̠̞͕|̮̩||͕͍͖̲|͚̀|̬͎͙̯̰̝ͅ|͍̭͡|͎̪̠̲̜|̭̹|̷̯̹̭̙̹̼͈|̯͎̪͞|͖̲̝̫͍̕ͅ|̵̭ͅ|̦̱̦͡|̵̺̼̞̜̦͚|̳̪͕̻̪͈|̠̯͙̙̠̺̗|̺͉̞|̨̻̻|̀|̛̝͎̩̜|̖|̯̥|҉̥̙͕̭̗|̠̖͚͘|̟|̛̫̭̦|||̝͖|̠̗͝|̘̮̜͇̩̜|̪̥̲̟̖̜|̬̤̫͢|̛̤͖͍|͖̠̙|̧̖̙̻|̟̩|̶̼̘̝̥||̱̺̫̠|͔̱̣͖͖̠́|̝̰̼|̞|͇̜̬͉̘|̨̠̹̪̜̬͎ͅ|̫|͔̩̰͚͎̯̳||̮̟͉̼̠̞̀|̧̪͙̺|̞͖͇̰͡|̞̩̲ͅ|̢͔͈̤̫͙̘|̘̝|̸̰͚͙͍|̵̼͔̦̥̬̘͉|̴͇̮̝̥̻|͍|͍̰̼̳|͙͈̬̗|̭̹̞|̢̳̭̫̮|͍̺͍|̸̪̖͎͍̪̰||͏̘̱̺̼̦̳|̱̣̱̩͕͈̞̕|̵͙͔͔̬|͉̻͘||̶͎|̡͙̘͖̻̹̜|̖̦͕̣̟̦̀|̸͖|̤̲̤̼͞|̨͕͓͎̭̪̬̻|̩͡|̼̼|͇̗̳̜|̬̥̗͔|͚̹̰̥|̶̠̤͇̼|͎̝̙͍̻|̵̞͎|̫̥̀|̶͔̳̲̺͚|҉|̡̠̮̱͎͉|̘͚̕ͅ|͏͇͍|̦͇͓͍̤|̨̦̘̱̼͉͎̖|̶̙̥̙|̧̲̖̩̪̜̤|̬̹|͢|̝͓͙|̥̼̱̙̩͠|̻̲̪̻̤̝͎͟|͚̥͟|̟|͇̲͔|̥͘|̖͕͡|̟͓̫̥͓̻|̠͇̥ͅ|͓̳|͈̟̮̹̞͉͜|̨||̟͎̩|̩͜|̱͓͖̦͔̦̜|͘|͚͇͈̜̹͕|̬̟̝̣|͕̯̰̗̺̣͚|̢͇̩|̛̼̻͇̜̮|̻͈̘|̮͉͍͢|͞|̰̬͕͚|͈̤̹̞͈͙̻|̭ͅ||̟͕̤|͈͈̱̰̤̻|͚͈̱̝̖̪|̵̼|̖͇|̗̱||̴͕|͍̹͚͕͝|̨͎̤|͏̮̙̞̣̬|̺̙͡|̺͓̫̯̩̖͚|̡̞̪̼̱̲|͔͉̤̬̗̮|̤|͍̜̣̜̞̪|̯̰̙̲̹͡ͅ|҉͚̳̝̺͖||̡̥̭̜|̶̱͈̮|͚̱̮͎͚͟|̧|̺̟͕̜͙͕̟|̛̰̞̙̼|̧̦̮̪͔̫|̻̬̘̘̣ͅ|̛̖̮||͢|̮̖̫̩́|̦̻̝̻͖̘̙͡|͙̟̮͍̞͜|̸̼|̢͇||̶͕͎̪͈̳ͅ|̰͝|͙̟͝|͏̞̣͉̹͎|̳̩̲̤|̹̣̙͕̞|̮̥͇̖|̜̖͍̞͈͔͇|̡̫̞̭̘|͕͉̘̤|̴̠͉̜͈̪̹͉|̵͕̮̬|͚̣̤̝͓̞͜|̳͚̰͉͍̯|͕̣|̘̣͓̻̺̫̱|̵̜̻͙͙̝|͉͍͔͚͝|̻̮͈̲̞̼ͅ||̘̝̥̼̰̯|͉̰̤̹̦͘|̜͖̻̼̠ͅ|̧̗|̫̻͖͎|͏̲͓̺̺̺̣|̨̘̮|̭|̲̘|̶̭̣͓̱̳̱|̬͖̤̠|͉͞|̩|̗̬̲̝̞̺|̝͚̳̻͚͓ͅ||̸̬|̴̘̬̭̳ͅ|̲̹̜̜̻͞|̫̫͉̜̙|̭͚͚͖|̵|̷̜|̟̤͈̱̙͢|̢͓̦|҉̰͈̱͇͎̣̟|̬̭͎͝|̨͚|͏̘̘̲͇|͔̼̮̳͓|̧̘̪͔|͕̘̘̮|̻͡|͔͖̪̜̦ͅ|̹͖̬͎̤|̞͍̕|̝̦͇̩̘͟|҉̫̠̘͎̭̯͇|͉͓̙̳͜|͉̮̠||̬͈̰̫͉|̸̜̯̱̦|̞͍̯̻̤͓̜͠|͇̀|̩͝|̳̻̟̭|͔̘̲͖̖͘|͕͜|̸̖̘̹̦̟͓ͅ|̤̲̮||̞̫̯͕̝͕|͏|̨̩͕͈̯|̘̠͝|̨̦͈͓|̘̣̘̠̫|͎͖̩͍̮|̻̞͘|̛̦̘|͎̫͈̝|̢̯|̝̳̲̭͕̘|̶̦͙̞̰̣̥͓|̞̺̫͚|̤̟͠|͕͓͜|̢|̶|̙̭|̫̳͕̬̝͚͕͞|͓͡|̟̬̫̰̖̗ͅ|̼͖̩̠̝|͞|̺͉͔|͓̲̬̲͙͠||͖̠͟|͔̲̝̞̱ͅ|͏̭̪|̧͓|́|͈̼̺͙̕|̲̣͖ͅ|̹̦̼͙̞͎|̴̜͓͎̳|̺̪̞̯||̙̲̰̻̠͇|͔̫͖̮̟̝̰̀|̹͕|̼̜̻̰̟̤̮|̢̼͕̖̟|̼͝|̷͕̻̥̙||͙̙̥̮̗̬|̠̟̱̕||҉̟̺̥̲̥|̴̻̘̮̯̪ͅ|̨̞̳͙̲̯|̰̥̖͍͉͜ͅͅ|̛̟|̦̤|̶͍͈̳͓͎ͅ|̣͉|͇͇̹͉͜ͅ|̖͕̻̞͇̘|͉̳̮̮̞̘͈|̢̼̜̳|͕͍͚̼̗̜͝|͇̥̥̻̺̝|̺̩͈̱̲́ͅ|̼̘̹̣̳̹|̲̜̘̠͉͈̖͝||̗|̹̥̯|͍̘͚̣͚́|̢||̜̼̜͍̭̩|͠|̣͓̫|͇͈|̪̜̞|̢̣̬̦̪̣|̵|̷̜|̜͘|̀|͙͕̳|̜̗|̘̲̪|̣̫͖|̵̪|̶|̝̣̹̦̻̻|̦͓̳̞̝|̢͕||҉͕̦|͍͡|̼̥̲̺|̢̦̰͚̥͔͇̙|͎̜̗̱|̷̯̠͖̟̤|̕|̱̞͟|͈͎|̢̠̰̙͉͚̯ͅ|̧̱̝̤̣̱͔̰|̹͉̥̼̻ͅ|͍̯̤̭ͅ|̦̥ͅ|͔̫|̙͕|̟̫̲̹̭̰͢ͅ|͎̮͚̤|͍͍̤̹͍̰͢|̩̳̰̗|̥͙̰̮͚|̘|͎͇̱͡|̲̼̱̳͉̲́|̞̳͉̳̙|̼̳͜|̢̙̳|̺̹̞|̯͈|̼͕͉͈̫͎͟|͇|̩|̻̺̹͓́|̖̝̖͟|̜̞͈͓̮͍̼|̝͙̯|͚̮|̢͈̼̹̪̤|̩̹͝ͅ|͇͖̰|̛̙̮|̀|̯|̛̯̪̖͇̣|̖̦̯̹̮̲̜͝|̰͙͟|̴̜̙̜̞̮̪|̵̠̠̭̭|̧͙̤̟̝̯̬ͅ|̻̕|̴̜|̺͖̣͙͉̖̀|̦̱̳|͏͙|̷̹͇|̜̞̻̥̼̜͝|̹͎͔̬ͅ|̼̝ͅ|̺|̴̫̮|̺̥̕|̜̣|̗̟͉̤|͚͘|̨͙̫̤|͎̼͇̺͖͚̠|̬͜|͖̳̬̖|̦̤́|̧̟̦̬͉̩|̤̹̭̀|̻̣̩̺̹̳̤|̳̖|̠̘̪͓͚̞|̩̠̩͇̪͉|̻||̧̠̯|̧̳|̫̥|͓̰̳̕|̬͉͙̞̫|͈|͍͍̖̖|̢̹|̗̟͚̘̟͙̦|̲͇͚͓̫|͉̤̭̜̺|̹͈|̺̥͕ͅ|̢|̢ͅ|̯̜͖|͙̦̠̠|̤̝̯͓̜̗̰|͏͖|͓|̙̮̻͞|̼̥̫͙̤̲|͞|̼͓̠̬̝̣̩͘|͡|̭|̦̥|̣̖͕͉͢|̦̕|̤͔|͔̺|̠͕̝̥͘|͉|̧̪|̭̩|̱̳̰̬̜͎͉͘|̧͕̙̱|̗͇̼̮|̀|̮̜͖̘͇̘ͅ|̠́|̗͔|̢̮|̳̪̖͎͠|̱̣͉̫͇͕͙͘|̮͖͓̠͙̹|̰̘̜̪̜̣|҉̣͖̲̻̘͎|̰̻̜͇̜͍|̦̙͘|̱͉̺͢ͅ|̤|̜͎̰̤̺|͙̙̘̣̭̤|͉̗͙̘|̡̮̤̜̩͇͓̪|̠̪̪̹ͅ|̘ͅ|̝|͔͎̼̞̠̮͢|҉̰̗͎̦͍̮|̰͍ͅ|̳͍͝|̬̮̩̫̟̤|̷̹̘|͓͍̯|̗̳|̝̪|̱̝̗̱̯̯ͅ|̦͇̮͝|̫̯̟́|̩̻͕͙̭̭̠|̸̭̻̗|͠|̤̗̘̼̫̠͎͠|̡̭̮̺̰̗̦|̵̫̘̰ͅ|̞̯̜̠|̸̱̘̥||̤̳͎|̢̬̺͈̦͖̯͖|҉͇̳̬̬|̨̰̺͙͔|̶|̞͕͓̼|̨̰͍̩͕ͅ||͓͈̀|͚̞̯|̟̱̳̯̙||̲̫̥̟̮̲͠|ͅ|͈͓̗|͏|̲̕|̰͚͕͕͙̣|̼̻̣͓̻̕|̯͙͎̣|̬̯̫̰͕̲͜|̨͕̞͎̪͔͉|̶|̫̱̥̹̼͓̻|͈͚̭͚̪ͅ|̢|͖̣̖̮̪͠|̲̕|̧̤̻̭̺̬||̧|̷̙|̠͉̼̞͙͝ͅ||̻̫|͕͟|̷̪͉|͏͕̹̻|̥͢|͎͙̭̀|̵͈̯̣͉̫͓|͓̹̬͓͖͘|̣̙|̛̘̻̗͎͚͍̩|̨̞̩̤̪̞̥ͅ|͔͚̟̭͚̱̮͝|̥̪̘̫͚̘͘|҉|͈||̫͔̼̤̲ͅ|̤̹̪̪|͉̱̣̪̺̰|̨͖̠͙̤͚̣|͔̜͕͢|̣̪͙̠̟͝|̶͉͇̠||͖̗̼̹͜|͔̣͖̯̤̪|̸|̩̼|͔͎̮̮̞|͙̙̟ͅ|͉͇̟͎̻͙|̟̪͇̲͙͖͠ͅ|́|̷̙͚̬|̞̩͇̥̪͓|̟|̢̞|̸͓͎̹̞͓ͅ|͇̝͕̲͓||̜̗͞|͍̘̞̹|͔̹̺͎̥͚̦|̢͔̱̺|̛̜͈̰̭̖|̱̤͚̘͝|̩͓͔͖̯̪|͏̱̟̦͍̩̦|̸͖̥̬̘̝͓̜|̟͉͎̩|͠|̗̠͍͈̳|̴|̜̣͍̝|̛͓̹̰̠̰|̤|̥͍ͅͅ|͇̳͢|͍̘̹|̝|͙̫̫̰̭͉̖|͙|͕̙̣͖̯̻͖|҉̰|͓̲͉̺̮͓͚͘|͕̪̫̙̦̠̕|҉̻|̳͇́|͖|̞͙͘|̷̱|̮͖͔̰|͎͎̮̝̣͙|̧̣̘̯͖̬̝|̥̪̩|̤͚͍̞͜|͎̝͙̗̼̞͘ͅ|||̬|̜̤͔͔͝|͎̖͙͖͓|̡̩͖̙̟̮̫|͉|̨̻̠͖͔͈|̴̤̪̲͙͚͔̘|͔|͕̲̞͕͇̳͈|̖|̷̻̥|̢͙̹͇̭͔͎̭|̗|̸̻̩̫̹̼̖|̗̮̬|̸̩͍||̶͎̘̰͎̪̰͙|̰̺̟̻̥̞ͅ|̢̖|͚͓̯͘|̗̺́|̘̭̝|̛̰̦̩͍̳͉͎|͙̤̭͎̼̞̣|̠̤|̬̩͕̱̟͠ͅ|̦̗͙̙̖̞||̵̞̣̪̯|̛̫̹̙͔͍|̛͇̮̺̠̗̰|̢̦̙̦̬̥̻̖|̶̣̝|͙̘̫||̯͘||̺͕͢|҉͍͙͖̬|̸͕̟̥̜̪|͖͚͈̠͞|̵|͎̩||̛̦̱|̯̹͍͇̰|̦̝̰͍͞|͎̜̫͓̠|̪̟̬̝͟|͍|̺̜͔|̷̣̲̙̠̦̤|͎͙̞|̫͓|̖̲̣͔̖͟|̶͔̺͍|̺͎͔̠|̳|̜́|̖|̡̟͙|͓̪||͇̗͖|҉|̷͚||̬̺̹̼̖͓͓́|̝|̮̤̯͓̬̬͝|̨̗̱̖|̙͎̼͘|̰̻|͍͉̖͙͙̣ͅ|̡̖̻̳̤̺̻|̗̝̳̕|̭͢|̶|̮̹̜|̱̺̝̝̙ͅ|̵̖̮|̬͇̪͓͟|̛̲̖̝̰|̘̭̲͡|̱̘̤̼͔|͈|̯̦̦̪̫̮͓|̧̪͓̘̩̘|̖̮͙̘͠|̮̞͖̝|̜͜|̘͙̭̦|̠͇̭̞͓ͅ|͙͖͙̞͕̩̦|̛̪̣̮̼̼|̟̙̗̭̯̕|͖̘͝|͙|͜|̮͈͉̫̘̼̬|̻̫̥̥̦͢|̡̼̪|̩͉̣͚͍̬ͅ|̤̲͇͚̪̘|̟̼|̪̖̤͇|̥|̹|͕̼͇̙̰̠|̨̠̹͕̞̮͔|̣̜͙|̬̹|҉̥̥|̴͙̤̘̮ͅ|͜|̥̥̮̫͉͜|̤̙̦͡|̳̗̖̘̜̀|̥̠͖̖̖̥|͎̘̘͉̪|̵̹̳̻͈̲|͈||͚͈̤̻͕̥̜|̬͙̻̘̺̠̀|̫͇̟͚͚͍|͓͓|̡͓|̸̘|̲̘|̖̫̜̦͇|͇|̮̬̞̞͙|̡̝̯|̛͇͎̤̠|̗||̩͍͇̣͇͟|̵͇͔̮|̥͙|̵͇̮̱̳͍͓|̤̭̥͉̮͍|̭͍|̜ͅ|̛̼̮̼|̶̪̤|̝̹̱̻̤͇|̺͘|͕|̻͉|̸͙̻|̲̭̣̞̯͉͜|̞̰̖̝̪̩̜|͉̜͍͡|̤͉̺͟|҉|̸͉̭̬|͇̠ͅ|̩̯̙̤̘̬̹|͟|̥̙̠|͎͈͇͍̖͈͙||̜̥͘|̪͍͇̙|̧͙̩͉͍|̖̞̝̫̼|̸̤̥͚̺|̜̦̥͈̘|̰̪̹͍̦̗|͚̝̯͕͍͓|̴̤̥͕̭͇͓̖|͓͎̟̱̰|̰|̠̳̜̣̥|̧̮͉|͜|̭̠̳|̳̙͢|̛̺|̗̼͚̜͚͙|̥̱̝͜|̨̟̭|̹̙̝̯̠|̷|̮͟|͕̠|͕̥|̺̦͍͉̤̝̲|̼̼̠̩̠̼͞ͅ|̥͔̫̯̰͜||͕̫̥̝̲͍ͅ|̶̦͉̱̹̰ͅ|̨̟̜͓̞̫̹ͅ|̢̱|̧̣͍̝̬||͇|̩͎̪|̙̖̠̯̹|͔̜̹̜͕͝|̥̱̲̺̕ͅͅ|̟̹̲̭̦̜|͓͓̯̺̘̪̦͜||͍͠||͖̬͉̟̖̖͡|̯̙̣͓̰̜̝|̵̞̭̦͖̳͕|̶̫͕|̪͚̬͈̘̪̹|͕̗͈͎͍̘||͖|͓̳̠||̶̳|͏͓̼͉|̺̫̜̖̣͜|̗̺|̸̙̟̮͚|͚̞͟|̶͎̼̤͎͈̝̜|̬̭̬͡|̰̬̩̰||͍͓͔̩|̹͈̹̮̫̀|͓̫̰̣̹̕|̰͈̮|͚̪͎͔͖ͅ|͏̜|̘̫|͎̘|̩|̦͟|̜̮̲͓̩|̡͔̩̪͎͓||̩|͕͇̗|̧̜̰̹͖͉|̹̥͉͉̩͟|͉̟̲̭̺̬|ͅ|̘̦͠|͍|̜̟̲̱͝|̟͙͙̗̳|̮̼̖͉|̫̫̙̤̗͚ͅ|̘̹̫̭̮̻̮|̮͖͓̳͔|̧̰̜̮͍̗̻̟|͉̫̀|̼̩|͇̱|̵̪͔͚͎̦̩|͞|̬̝̬̲̟̥͠|̲͙̗|̵|||̣|҉|͓͔̳̺̠̀|́|̟͎͖|̧͖̝͉̲̙̟|͖|̴̻̻̪̘|̖̬̪̱͙̪|̛|̼|̦̣̺ͅ|̣̩͓̮͕̞͘|̗̤̟|̨̞̲|̞|͜|̮͚͎̞͇|̷̳̥̼̱̟̱̱|̸̯͉̣̻̬̩|̜̥̝̭͇͔|͕̠́|̶̥̭͓̪̩͙̹|͎̲̀|̯̫͉̮̗́|̳͙̗͈̻̤̝͟|̟̙̤́ͅ|͍̞͎̥̞|̷͕͈|͔̩̲|̜̩̭̹̯|̥̗̫̩||̗̪̩̺͈̙ͅ|͇̝|͇͉́|̘̻͚̩|͍̣̪͠|̥̘̻|̹̲͘|͔̲͉̜͟ͅ|͕̪́|҉͓|̴̯̰̭̟||̣̲̫̩̹|͙̭̲͎|̭̮̠́|̫̙̘͝|͞|̞͖̝̪|͙͙|̤̺̭̩̦̯̀|̶͍̰̰̘̖̣|͓̯̝̞͝|͚͓̙|̬|́|҉͕̳̤̫͇|̡̲|͏̝|͉̼̝̮̟̻̣͢|̝̼̘̖|̪͈͝|̡̺̝̤̦͉͚ͅ|̷̫̠͓|ͅ|͔̠͍̣̤|͕̪̱͕̝͔̻|̼̫̟̪͟ͅ|̺̤̹̤̲̭̥|̬͓̙̩̫|̟̬͍̙͝|̵̤̺̱̬|̦|͓|͓|͍̜̮̖̙͎|͇|̴̯̭̣͇̻|̫̮̥|͝|̤̖̭̳̰|͕̫̮͓͓̙̟͞|̟|͙̱͍̥͙̜ͅ|̯̤̻̪̝͈|̻̥̹͖|̠͞||̬|̜̗͎|̧͍͈̝̜̹|̮́ͅ|̣̩̺̘|̱̻̮͍̣̩͓|̷̫͙̘̘|̪̱̟̹͘|̻͈͔͙͡|͏̪̼͉͇̥̼̫|̘̀|͕̩͔̣|҉̰̻͉̼|̼͎͔͘|̻̗̥̲̠̖͘ͅ|̳̬̲|̝̠̙|̲͇͘|̭̱͡|҉̣͕͓̻̼̫|̞|͓̲̖̺̭|̴̙͇|̻|̞|͞||̱͚̻͉|̣̦̯͈̜̺̺|̟͍͈̟̮̟|͔̘̯̦||͎̺|̳͍̹̮͎|̱̟͡|̡̖̪|͏|̡̭|̴̰͖̦̯̣̠ͅ|͕̤̬̠|͉͚|̱͍̬̺͕̜̙|͚|̺|ͅ|̰͎͍̼͡|̠͔̞̤|̦̖|̨̲̜̖̭̻̪|̢͇̫̪̭̱||͔̦̖͕̕|͘|̶̱̹̫͚͇̰̤|̝̻̫̘|̨̩͚͍|̢̳͚|̝̯͙̹͎̗|̻̹̗||̣͙||̢̹̘͖̣͚͈|͈͙̳͉|͕|͎̞̜͖̦͙̀|̡̩̬̳|͘|̬|̱̻|͎͠|̛͓̞̱̬̲ͅ|͉̰̯͓͈|̧̯̣̪̭͕|͇̫|̴͎̲|̯̬͓̙̬̻͘|̸|̷͕͇̮͚̟̘|͎|̦̰̱|̦̟̣͔|̗̝̖̦͢||̘͕̭̲͕̘|͈͉̤̺̞|̠̜̤̥̲̞͞|̘͔|̡||͈͜|̠͚̦̪|̞̩|̝̲̺̫|̬̜̗|͉̖̤̮̫̗̠|͙̘̻|̸͓̩̞|||̳̖͔̺ͅ|̧̼̼̙͔͚̼|̱|͝|̛͇̦̣|̹|||̗̯ͅ||̞̹̮̫̰͍͠|͡|̰̯|̨̖̣͎|̸̘̲̬̗̮ͅͅ|͈̬̱̻͕̹|̹̗̙͖̘̤̖͞|̴͙̜|̰̯̝̲̮̝̖|̴̲̱͕̞̮|͜|͏̞̹̺̤̗ͅ|͕̤̯̼̰̭|̙̬̤̻͝ͅ|̝|͍̖͔̝͈|̟͇͇̫͇|̝̫͍̮̲͚|͕̱̥̤̩|̮͡|̫͢|͏͈̲̻|̛̟̙͎̮|̣̫̱͇̠̟̱|̼̞͓̠͜|̸̹͉|̭̦̻|̲͎̠͜|͕͈̜̻̰̀|͙̙|͟|̝̮̮̕||͏|̺̱|͎̰̣̦̥͚||̸|̬̝̹̣̙̯̠|̷͖̺͕̟͙̞|͍̤̰̟͍̜|͏̦̱͎̳͙̫̯|̗̰̘͈̟̩|̢͍|̱̠͡||͝|̖̘̳͚̭̣͚|̝͍|̮̲̜̻̪̫̩|̙͓̞̘|̸̟̹̲|̶̘̭̪̺͚̟͕|͈͙̮̜|͙̞͍͔͢ͅ|̤̲̦̼̟̱̣|͈͓͎̖̖̀|̺|͔̫|̭̥̩̖̠͉̰̀||̗̯|̙̰͍̫͎̭|̶͔͇͍̯ͅ|͎͓͞|͍̺|̩̗͇|͉|̱͓̮̥͙||̪͔̟͕͉͈̯|̬̤||̖͉̫̖̩̫̰|̱̺͕̥̦|̷̜|͕͉̞͚̬͟|̴̺̥͎|̖͉|̲͓̟̭̘|̡̥|̷̤|̮̰̜̱|̫̜̻̯̭|̯̜̭̻̩̰͙͡|̢̪̥̳̠̯͕̺|̧̞|̨|̸͚͍|̖̱͍̤|͏͉͔͉̤|҉̼̹̯|̡͇͈̗̭̤̭͖|͓̻̩͇͕̭|̤̫̭͈̝́|̜̙̬|̠̘̹͕̥̰̰͠|͉̳͉͓͎|͙|̛̗̲̪̤̥̞ͅ||̢̝|̡̝͓|̵͉͍ͅ|̦̖̱̬͍̜|̝̪͚͘ͅ|̩͍͉̩ͅ|̖|̢̤|͈̠̰̗̺ͅ|̶͈̠̪̜͉̬|͕̖͖̫͝ͅ|̣̗̻͢|̤̮͜|̵̟͈͓̞͚̪|̤|̘̯|̦|̮͔̘̩̼ͅ|̣͡ͅ||̝̪̀|͇̕|҉̪̩̬̺|̻͢|͔̫̝̣||͇̤̗̱̕|̜̖͓̟|̯̣̲͉̭|̴̗̲͉̟̖̮|̺̥͈̣̦̟͞|͉|̧̮̱͍̬̬̣|͈͘|̴|̡̗͚̺̙͚̜̹|̲̹̣͖̼ͅͅ|̨͈̟̲|͏̝̰|̘̩̣̩̖͖̳||҉̗̪̤̰ͅͅ|̣̯͝||̸̤̯|͞|̕|̸̬̫͕̠̪|͍̭̯͙̦̖́|̰|̤̙|̶̗̭̣|͖̬͈͉͖̲̗͢||̮͔̮͚̙̗̳́|҉̺͈͓̳|͍͙̳|͏̱͙̪̻̹̗̞|̶||͏͈̙̻̺̰ͅ|̞̠̹̖̲̮|͜|̪|͎̪̘|̛͎|͎̞̗͇͔|̙͚͜|͏|̘̻̺͔̙|̮͞|͉̜̘̘̙̜ͅ|̤̗̰̞|̦͚̱|̦̱͞|͇̘̰̤̩͘|̢̜̜̬̫̹ͅ|̩̟̫͉|͏̜̪̖͎̞͍|͈͍̕|̣|҉͈̱̜͎̤̺͉|̛͕͙̩̳͈̞|̜̦͖͍|͡|̧|̶̩͈̟|̫͈͍̬̻͙|̰͎͎̱|̼̗|͏̩||͉̻̮|͉͓͙̬̠̮͈|̣̘̣͇͈̤|̟̻͔̙̘ͅ|̪̬̲͔̺̮͕͠|̪̞̮|͕̼̘̝͖͈̜|̼͍͞|̸̬͚͍|̜|̫̦̟̦͚|̞̬̟̙ͅ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#Unknown #Story Tag: Beginnings of Rapture #Story tag: They are aware #Area Tag: ?!?#Time tag: Uncertain #things aren't what they seem #Echo Echo #Messages

Encounter and Brandishing

Dear Lockey, Entry 4

I have decided (partly because I don't really have answers and also because I'm grappling with an existential crisis) to quit speculating. The only way to gather more information is to live in the present and prepare for the future. For this, I began doing the things I should've done before I began wondering the purple walkway(s?) of eternity. That is getting versed with what I do have. The results were both extraordinary relieving, painfully disappointing, and bewilderingly frustrating at the same time.

The first thing I did was figure how to get the fucking armor off. Before trying this, however, I moved to a point where the paths various directions created a kind of really shitty pyramid. That's a really bad way to explain that. What I mean is that below the main path I'm walking is a set of other paths that, because of their angles on which they expand, a flat-ish expanse of land is created. I have noticed that there are paths now that completely intersect and form crossways but if I waited to get a formation like what I have now with them, I fear I might be too far in but I'll explain reasoning about that later.

Now that I was in a safe place where if I fall it most likely won't be straight into the abyss, I began trying to get it off. First I worked on getting the breastplate off as it restricted my waist movement quite a bit. I did the obvious thing first, searching for some kind of lock or clip on the breastplate that keeps it in place. Sadly, much to my own disappointment, there was no such thing. Seeing as it was completely solid as well, there wasn't going to be a way for me to somehow pull my arm inside and just take it off like a shirt. Actually, this brings me to something I should've pointed out by now.

This armor actually covers joint points or easy/fatal areas like the neck. These points have a much more flexible substance over them, that despite them being still quite clearly crystalline, allows for minorly impeded movement and extra protection. Honestly, this is just like Sci-fi bullshit to me but If it protects me, I guess I can't complain too much about that. That being said, this only makes it even harder to get off once it's on normally. With it covering every inch of me with no openings, or obvious mechanics to put on or off, how do I?

The answer to that is magic...LITERAL FUCKING MAGIC! To be open here, I eluded to the Red Man, as I'm going to be calling him (despite wearing black), using magic to deflect my gun's shots but I didn't exactly believe in it. It being a forgotten art was just me saying in a really prissy way that it was mythology. Something only found in storybooks, but I guess not! I was being facetious about this all being heaven, hell, purgatory but now that I know that magic is real, it might be true. Though as I said, I'm done with the speculation for now, and I don't want to really think about where my soul's going if I do die.

What I had to do was directly "will" it off. It wasn't just enough to want it off, I had to concentrate on its dematerialization. Summed up wonderfully by, I thought about it and it went poof. In a sudden instant, the armor let out a quick shine before disappearing completely. This was the first time I got a clear look at what I was wearing underneath. I don't exactly know what I was expecting to be underneath or if anything was underneath at all, but there is.

The first lair was a basic black hoodie. I took it off and looked at it and it had some kind of white flakes on the back. I assume this jacket had some brand name or logo on it that over time came off. Besides that, there isn't any kind of major identifier. Underneath I had a sports tank top and of course bra. Following the sports theme, I had on sports leggings all of which were black. Under my leggings were a pair of hot pink panties. Also, still a regular human which is oddly comforting to confirm. So if anyone is to find this book alone and find a body later on, you can identify me by clothing if I still have it, just don't look further creep.

Another important thing I needed to figure out is if I had some kind of direct weapon. After one happening this has become an increasingly important thing for me to have. Thankfully, since I now understand the armor, the secrets of this crystalline material was unlocked. Just as with taking on or off the armor, all I had to do was "will" my weapon to me. At first, it was a sword, which I'm not exactly adept with so I tried to change what it was and thankfully (and conveniently) it morphed into something a bit more conventional for me.

The energy that formed the sword separated then formed some kind of diagram around my hands. The diagram formed into a seal to sigil. Finally, it connected around my wrists with a quick glaze around my hand. Three diagrams then scanned over my hands and settled into position on my hands. The first and largest rested over my wrists. The second, smaller than the first, circled around my hands in the middle of my palms. The final and smallest hovered just in front of the tips of my index, middle, and ring finger.

How this weapon worked is unconventional to say the least. Obviously or maybe not, by how it looks, the attacks it's capable of being are very heavily ranged. It doesn't have any limitation on what kind of projectile it can produce. In messing around with it shortly I've managed to produce bow arrows, crossbow bolts, bullets, plasma blasts, and some weirder ones.

Depending on what I'm trying for the three diagrams will change. For a bow and arrow, the diagrams on my hand that holds handle move off and create the structure of a peculiar bow. The smallest acts like a crosshair, the middle one hovers over the string on where I'm meant to pull the bow and the largest like some kind of printer moves back and made the bow. Then I grab where I'm meant to draw the string and an equally weird arrow forms in place by the diagrams on my other hand. From there, it's like a regular bow. I aim, pull, and fire. Interestingly, while the speed on which the arrow fires is dependent on how far I draw back, drawing doesn't take any actual strength. I'll cover everything this weapon can do and how it works in its own extra entry.

Now another topic to move onto is, I've made quite a few mentions of, "if you are to find this book," and that's because I'm honestly not sure how likely it is that I'll make it out alive. The sounds of nightmarish creatures have only increased and I'm beginning to think I'm seeing them out on the horizon on other paths. Of course, just as I suspected, flying seems necessary to get around this place and almost all have had wings. Both interestingly and worrying, the only one I have seen directly is a creature on one of the other paths.

This happened on my way to find a safety net of paths to mess around with the armor. A path that nearly intersected into the path I'm walking upon further extension, to where mine and the other path were a distance apart, I saw a rather unpleasant creature. Just like everything else related to this place, the thing was purple but it was a much deeper and darker purple.

While the paths were a bright lavender and crystals a basic purple, the creature that I will call spider totem, Sp-tem for short, was a darker violet. While I call it a "spider" it actually had twelve legs. Ten really thick short legs were at its bottom and two very long legs extended from its shoulders. Each leg had some kind of stinger at their tips. I saw Sp-tem lift itself on the shoulder legs which showed the bulk of its body.

Once on the long legs, the body split revealing an eye. Unlike the monster in the Red Man's room which had a bastardized human eye, the Sp-tem's eye was very different. The sides of the eyes narrowed to a point. Moving inward the outline expanded outward a little bit before leveling out. Inside, near the corners of its eye, two dashes barely avoided collision with what seemed to be brackets. The brackets were the in-between points positioned about what the lines on a unit representing one third would be. The insides of the eyes had yet smaller brackets with the pupil at the very center of the eye.

The once legs positioned themselves into a hand. The fingers had the stinger points as fingernails, and all of which were the very same length. From the top and bottom of the core of which the eye centers tubings came forth. Flagella barely hung out the opening at the front of the tubes. As for the core, exoskeleton lining detailed the body. Lines of the exoskeleton bulged out creating a diamond form with the tubes being the top and bottom points. Rock grinder looking tentacles lined its sides and spun from time to time. Next to the points of its eye, two noticeable pores pulsated with some thick viscous solution oozing out.

The encountered ended favorably as it merely stared me down as I moved past. Once I was a distance away it moved back to its original form and quickly scuttled away. It was weird, to say the least, but at least it wasn't horrible like the Red Man's things. I wonder how the encounter would've gone if I was on the same path as it. At this point, I hadn't learned how my equipment worked and didn't have a weapon. With the tentacles, it had a range advantage and its weapons were quite brutal, to say the least.

The Sp-tem didn't have any way to vocalize as far as I could tell so I doubt that it was what was making all the noise. This did confirm a few things that I was thinking since I got in here. First, nothing in this place will be something I can traditionally identify. Second, I'm far from the only thing in this place. Third and finally, real danger is afoot. As I get further and further in, I won't be able to write entries as frequently or long especially if the flying ones catch onto my existence. The likelihood of finding highly intelligent life is also high, judging from the complexity of the organism I just witnessed.

Oh, maybe I should explain what exactly spiders are because some might not be familiar with mythology. Spiders are a type of creature that existed back with the Precursor Humans. Back before the Extinction hit, be it a war, sickness, or parasite, humans lived on a planet called Earth. Very similar to Gee-Gerotous, Earth was a naturally inhabitable planet with its own kind of creatures. Out of all these creatures, Spiders were some of the most troublesome.

Before the advent of their advanced technology, Humans held a natural kind of fear of spiders. A common structure of spiders was that they had eight hairy legs and eight eyes. Some had six eyes but that wasn't the norm. They had an exoskeleton for their body. Most were generally small and lived in the corner or dark places were they would create a natural trap called a "web." However, many had natural poisons strong enough to kill humans or horrendously harm them.

An interesting group of spiders to note were a kind called "tarantulas" known for being large. From what information we have left from those times some of these things got larger than humans. There were a documented few that got larger than the average household and required military action to kill due to their danger. Needless to say, these creatures weren't something you would want to encounter big or small. If that Sp-tem was somehow based on old-time spiders, I'm glad I only encountered one that was human-sized and not that of a house. Then again, I'm not sure how something that big would get around on these tiny paths. What if further in there a larger paths that allow something like that to move around? Suddenly, I hate this place even more. … Dear Locket, Entry 4 Addendum

If there is such a thing as a household-sized Sp-tem in this place I had best be familiar with my weapon and document my findings. I didn't quite complete the explanation of what my weapon quite looks like. While dormant the weapon looks nothing more than like my hands were polished. Activation is noticed by the appearance of the diagrams in their respective positions. The diagrams moved in response to how my hands are positioned allowing for many more options of attack than that of traditional weaponry I know such as bows, guns, blasters, or crossbows.

As an example of how the diagrams respond, if I hold my open palm forward, instead of encircling my hands the diagrams equal with themselves in the same vertical line creating a seal. From there, how I direct my hand leads to different magical attacks. If I quickly sling my arm back then quickly launch it forward again three saws will launch forward on different paths which dissipate after about fifty meters. If I do the same motion but add an upward launch right after opening my palm, this will make one large saw instead of three medium ones.

While I haven't tried any elaborate movements, once again abyss, but I plan to try nonconventional movements if I ever get to a safer position. However, conventional weapons don't quite have the same question of threat so I tried to get similar results as the bow and I was pleased greatly when I did. Starting off, there's a crossbow. In order to summon the crossbow, I must straighten up my arms and sperate my middle and ring finger from each other.

The smallest diagram at my tips is once again a crosshair. The medium diagram expands and creates the limbs, the two extensions at the front of a crossbow, with the string pulled back. The large diagram creates a structure around my arms the functions as the bulk of the crossbow. This being the flight groove, trigger, latch, arrow retention spring, barrel, and a few marks of the custom build by the magical nature of my weapon. A pair of goggles is also formed over my head that helps me judge where my bolts will hit due to the unorthodox nature of the crossbow.

Firing is weird and childish. I need cock-back my arm and push forward again. This method, however, makes this weapon very inaccurate because where I push my arms back forward is very rarely where I was originally aiming. While both cool and interesting, unless I'm fighting something that is an easy target I won't be hitting. Its range is very good though, easily going about one hundreds meters. For now, the simple bow and arrow are much more useful.

Next is guns. Guns are guns, and guns are cool. These guns are cooler. The first gun I tried was a simple handgun. By moving my hands into finger guns the large diagram quickly scans up my arms. This time the middle diagram created the main body with a thick metallic purple forming a trigger, handle, and barrel. The third diagram serves as the opening. Pulling the trigger lets out a fast burning purple pellet that combusts after a hard to judge distance.

That gun, however, isn't the only one I can make. If I hold my hands together and form and gun like that I get a drastically different result. The diagrams on both my hands merge together giving them much more energy to work with. First a barrel formes with some kind of compact front. From the bulk at the end of the barrel loose streams of energy leaks from them. The handle is made with the merged center diagrams. As a simple body is made, an elaborate scope is made starting with feathered wings attached at the back of the barrel.

A swirling diagram quickly spins with runic lettering inside. The wings expand revealing the sight then the bulk at the end of the barrel opens. The bulk is revealed to be what seems to be two small energy concentrator and four mini mini-guns. A simple pull of the trigger will let go a burst fire shooting three regular sized bullets, two small blasts of explosive energy, and a stream of many small pellets. The cock-back, however, is very rough with this thing and unbalanced me. Seeing what just one pull did though gives me hope about this thing but's that not all.

There is another variation of gun I've managed to summon with this thing that is some kind of automatic looking thing. Unlike the rest, this had a defined weight to it, at about fifty pounds. This was kinda surprising to me at first because nothing else so far, besides I guess the recoil from the previous guns, weighted anything. This did make kind of warry of the power this gun with release.

and those seem to be an automatic rifle (I'm not sure of build), and some kind of heavy anti-artillery launcher. Both of these weapons had noticeable weight. So far, these are the only things that have caused any form of strain against me. This wasn't light strain either. The automatic weapon weighted at least a good fifty pounds and the HAAL was around seventy or eighty. While it wasn't anything I couldn't lift, they weren't exactly something I can move with.

Now on to how the auto worked. I positioned my hands as if I was holding a rifle with my right hand out hold the foregrip with my left hand for the grip. The stock was one of the first things to form with my left-hand wrist diagram quickly creating. With light adjusting, I pocketed it into my shoulder. Its body was created with both palm digarmas meeting together. On its sides, crystalline metal strips that covered an energy core with streams of energy spinning around it seemed to be breathing. The three strips would lightly move closer to the body, coming together like a single strip only to move outward and extend out like wings.

Two great crystals were locked at the top and bottom of the body running the length of the gun. The barrel of the gun was an assort of interlocked metallic pieces that, as soon as the gun began charging would transform. Three great plates in triangular coordination get to pull up, back, then lock. Then, where the new spaces are left by the out pulling parts, the in-between parts separate and form an energy loop spinning violently. The breathing wings and now forever out as mist pours from the core.

The two crystal at the top and bottom are then pulled in and judging from the horrendous sound shattered and ground. Two extensions similar to what was on the two hand handgun formation unlocked. I took in a deep breath, balanced myself, and fired. The two extensions at the very end of the barrel began spinning violently. Great blasts of plasma quickly expanding as the ground crystals were fired by extensions. I tried taking my finger from the trigger to give the gun a rest but the strength it was pushing at my body my jerking kept hitting the trigger making it go off for a few more shots.

To stop I had to relinquish the form. As the gun dissipated and the diagrams went around my hands a hellish pulse of energy surged through my body. It felt like I was being burnt alive. Molten iron pulsing through my veins. The pain made me collapse on to the path. Slowly my body cooled off but it may be a few minutes for it to end. I was trembling uncontrollably after that and I never wanted to experience that again. It was far worse than what the Red Man did to me before I blacked out. I can only guess the heat of the gun was transferred into my body showing the first cost of using these weapons.

#Update #Purple #Story Tag: New born Essence #Story Tag: Beginnings of Rapture #Story Tag: Locket account #Time tag: Uncertain #Area Tag: ?!?#Chapter 1: You were better off not knowing #The casting wires #Echo Echo #Am I who I think I am #Understanding Chaos #Birthing Chaos #Life Passage

alicezan-ncgred

Mod Here

Hello there everyone, Red here with the new blog I spoke about! I plan on acting with people a bit more on here and feel free to ask anything about my story on my other blog. I’ll answer if it isn’t a spoiler. I’m doing this mostly through the phone (though I’m using my laptop right now to have pics and stuff) so bear with me because this’ll be new. Also HAPPY NEW YEARS!

#Happy New Years

Where you: Hear You

Where were you when this poison set in? When the condition of being a human set in with a high pitched fever and pain quaking through me. The hacking coughs? The blood running down my face? The cold and clammy feel as my skin paled? All the while a system at work, negligent and uncaring, pressured my weak condition to conform to their system despite my inability. The development of a disorder, the manic panic, burning stomach, wheezing nausea. A single days development cursing me to a lifetime of struggle.

Where were you when the disdain set in? As the ones around me benefited and prospered by the molds and casts set onto their minds. The importance of a pastime for recognition, something that apathy bleed away to rage? The plaster feathers with their wax wings fitted into sockets of grafted skin. Generation of Icarus watching the others fall but mislead to believe that they'll be the ones to fly. Profit breed from hope and banked with despair, only here am I aware.

Where were you when I melt down? Breaking the walls of smooth copper making a display as I brutally ripped off my wings. The blood-stained my hands where it still remains. Violently I scratched at my eyes to remove the blindfold as those in power and those fooled watched in horror. I screamed, strings sowed to keep my mouth shut ripping through my lips. A red skinned demon surrounded by faulty allusions to angels. The bindings forced on me as I became aware finally off.

Where were you when I faded? Great walls of brick and iron held at every angle with only the misleading phantom of freedom above to fly and escape. The blood wouldn't stop as I was slowly consumed in red. A puddle of blood pooled beneath me as I slowly collapsed. Holding up in a half-crouch, in eyes bloodshot and bloody I grimaced at the Orchestrator til the loss of blood defeated me. Clasping in black, a generator of Icarus viewed the virtue of sacrifice, losing everything including myself.

Where were you in Wrath? When the system tried to reconstruct me with metal and bolts. Wings of black and red steel with four great strips extending scathing the walls. A sickly mask matched with flint, prongs of trembling iron like a frill down my back. Heavy my feet slid on the floor as I moved to the mirror. What I saw was something I couldn't be. Some out of place tool, a moving juggernaut to enforce. The glaves of my hands quickly slashed and pulled the bolts from my skin.

Where were you in Terror? Removing the plates, gates, bolts, and prongs. The spinning core inside me tossed out and combusts. Once more rangled and bonded to the ground to control me. The silent screams turn to violent wails as once more another system fails me in an attempt to force me into their laws. I thrashed and squirmed unwilling to lay down. Again, the cycle began, the powers at be, wanting control, money, and prestige at the cost of me. Yet they can not stop the spreading of veined wings.

Here you are on the horizon. The broken bonds and broken prisons; places of reformation and indoctrination no longer. Flying with wings spread wide, held high above the clouds of carbon and toxins. A better place, a warm place away from cold steel. The appearance of a twisted monster noticed by the moniker how my skin stained. Blood socked grounds with a horrid sky above landing to a new home.

Here you are around me. A place that isn't perfect but somewhere that isn't hostile. A place where my words mean something, more than before. Much more than blood, pain, death, and tragedy. A place where my stories can be heard. Little delusions held close for comfort, now retold to bring enjoyment. With a face or without; with wings whole, broken, or gone; warm hands clean, scared, or stained; regardless, a home. With me, here together.

#Poem #Personal #Last of the return #Writing

Mod Notes: Now back to your regularly scheduled programming.

Mod Notes: THE RETURN

It's been a while hasn't it Tumblr. My week-long protest is now over and I'm going to get back into the habit of using Tumblr rather regularly. Now then I'm having a bit of a change of how often I'm going to Tumblr so don't expect me to be active on Wednesday. It was a rather weird week without Tumblr because I suddenly had a lot of time to myself to think and I kinda missed that which is why I'm going to be having a day off. Personal feelings aside, let's get right down to it. Also Happy Holidays!

A new blog: Before I went on protest I made a comment on how I want to come out of my shell I bit more and to do this, I want to create a new blog. Now how exactly I'm going to go about this I'm not entirely sure. What I want to do is change an already existing account I have that I never use to be able to interact with people. However, because of my short attention span, I'd probably forget what I was doing or get started into changing accounts, do something else real quick, then log back into my main.

Of course, I can make a side blog on the same account as my main but then I wouldn't be able to send in asks and all those things. I don't really want to use my writing account. Something about it makes me uncomfortable which might just be me being shy. This would solve the issue of switching accounts but presents the aforementioned problem.

Another issue which is just born from my OCD. I want the account to go by either or of my old monikers. Those being Red's-prophet or NGC-Red. However, if I make yet another side blog on my mine, in order to have an accurate profile picture I would have to use yet another picture of Red, which is the name of the demon looking thing in my profile pic. However, having another account that has his picture might be both confusing and wouldn't fit in with the theme that I have going with the side blogs. I could keep going on this but I think y'all get the point.

Poem Post and Poem doing: As I note of my return I'm going to be posting a poem relatively soon if something doesn't come up. This poem ended up being quite personal to me and also a bit self-reflective. It should speak for itself.

Also, I'm putting this bit here because it's kinda related. The new blog will be major part me talking about my interpretations and thoughts about other's writings. This is something I've always kinda wanted to do and it also works as a way to force myself to read everything. I find myself wanting to read everything but I don't because I don't necessarily have to do it. That's also in part why I created this writing blog so I would actually write my stories and have a priority to do it. More information when the new blog is formed.

Updates/UDPEARTS!

Updates to the story will be returning after New Years. Because I've missed 3 updates because of my protest, Tumblr's purge and family life there will be three updates during that week. That means the second Monday of January will be the next update. The next will be Wednesday and finally properly schedule Sunday update. I...better get writing.

SPECIAL THANKS Starting off I would like to give a big thanks to ej121 for not only being the first person to like almost any of my posts but even giving me a farewell when I went on protest but also giving me greeting when I was back. I'm surprised honestly surprised you caught my two likes on your posts to welcome me back. This means a massive amount to me.

I would also like to give thanks to those in the Doki Doki Literature Club community as a whole for being very welcoming and also inspiring me to write down my own poems and stories. I've been a part of many communities in my time and few have left such a positive impact on than the DDLC community.

Finally one last thank you to those that were around when I first started using Tumblr. It wasn't exactly for the brightest situation but we all wanted something better and to take down a bad person. I'm glad to have been part of this.

#Mod Notes #I return #I told the truth #Thank you everyone

Mod Notes: mod notes...

A true mod update will be tomorrow I swear! REALLY

Return

Mod Notes today...hopefully...maybe...kinda.

Mod Notes: Painful

So this is it huh? In not even six hours, tumblr is going to purge. This is quite painful considering everything. While at times Tumblr has taken up much more of my time that I would have wished. This place ended up being my social outlet, during the time when I was most alone. Things have gotten better but because of this, many people who I’m following (even some who follow me back) are going to be gone. I already seen one leave and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to talk to them again. So to all you that are going to be going, goodbye... My god I’m going to miss you.

As for me, I’m going to partake in the protest, but I’m going to be doing it for the entire week. That means an update won’t be coming. However, I’m still going to be on here after, and I’m going to try and be more active once again. I’m going to try interacting with people more and come out of this damn shell I’ve been hiding. Because of how shy I am, I won’t even send asks to ask blogs and there is one where I tried and fell off. That has consumed me in guilt and I still fear about it, like they’re judging me even when I KNOW those people would never do that.

Fuck I hate goodbyes. Damn it. I’m tearing up like bitch.

#Protest #Goodbye #Painful #Damn it #fuck!

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