Tenacious-Blurb's

I'll post random writng stuff here, maybe.

[writing-prompt-s]

Inside you were rotten. But you've made the masses love you. Pretending to be the noblest of heroes was the easiest way to gain power. Finally, as your rule becomes absolute, you prepare to unleash your true self and begin your reign of terror… and then you die and end up in Heaven.

[ttenaciouscollectionblurb]

"But... Why am I here?" "You spent your entire life doing the best you could for the people, for all the people." "But- But I-" "You spent great effort, being selfless to a fault. You championed for the weak, you did all you could, in every way you could. You went far beyond what you needed to do, to gain their adoration." "But it was all a lie! I did it all so I could gain their trust, and then I was going to-" "You had several opportunities to abuse your powers, in ways unlikely to ever be noticed. You had many chances to create war, justification for your dictatorship." "Because I did not want to risk it! It was the easiest path! The safe path! I never cared about any of them!" "And still, you put your life on the line for them, with no hesitation." "I had to! I couldn't risk them seeing the truth, wasting all those years!" "Wasted what? If it kept you alive... What waste was there, if you truly did not care? As you know well know, you can't abuse your power when dead." "It was a risk worth taking!" "I thought this was the safe path?" "It- it was..." "Then why not seek a safer one, once it seemed no longer safe?" "I-" "'Inside, I am rotten', is that not what you have been telling yourself?" "...Yes. I may hide the truth from them, but not from me, I always knew, knew what I would do once-" "Do you know what rotten people think of themselves?" "WHat?" "Those rotten inside, do you know what they think, when they see themselves?" "What?" "They see my gift to humanity. They see someone more important, more grand, more perfect than anyone. They may see the flaws, but they do not care. They might not love themselves, many of them do not... But they see... Nothing of what you saw. You saw a seed, a possibility of what you might be, of things you desired, thoughts you had, a path that, in the right circumstance, you might take... And you were scared and disgusted... And you became convinced, that that path, was the only path for you, that that self was the only true self... But look at the path you walked through life. See not with your own eyes, but with the eyes of those around you. What do you see?" "...A hero." "Yes. You lived a hero's life. And you did it with a very human, very normal, good but flawed heart. You saw what the good thing to do was, and you did it, with great effort, and with great sacrifice, you walked the narrow path, while convincing yourself that, once you could, you would stray, that you would become the monster you knew was within you. But you never did." "Only because I was never given the chance!" Laughet filled... everything. "Oh, my child. You were given more chances to stray, in the last year alone, than most face in a lifetime. And you know it, do you not? You saw every opportunity, or most of them anyway, and you... Looked the other way. Asserted to yourself it was not yet time, or made some other excuse, for doing the right thing. Walked the path you always walked, that of goodness and kindness." "So... had I lived... Would I have strayed? Are you saying I would not have?" "...Who knows? Past and future are both known to me, but that which might have been? Not my purview. But if you had strayed, you'd have strayed a human, free of rot, but that rot that sits in every human's heart. Just as you walked the pat. Flawed, but not broken. And had you remained true, it would not have been for an infallible, pure heart. But for your own dedication to do good."

[writing-prompt-s]

You are a villain with a long-standing rivalry with the local Magical Girl. One day, you learn that the Magical Girl has been abandoned by her parents.

[ttenaciouscollectionblurb]

I found her sitting by the old water plant, where we'd had our first battle. Out of uniform, of course. She'd dressed sensibly for the occasion, fashionable but sturdy, warm clothes... It was hard to appreciate her quick thinking though, given what forced it. She had been crying, that much was clear.

"I suspected I'd find you here." She turned towards me with a start, her hand reaching for the wand tucked into her pocket. "No need for that. I am not here to fight." I sat down a few metres from her. "We might have had our differences, but I have no quarrel with you, as such. Our interests just happen to not align. Feel free to transform if you feel unsafe though. But I'd rather speak to Madeline than Messier Rose." She started at me, horrified. "Oh, I've always known your secret identity. It's not difficult to figure out when you're not affected by the Catalogue's blanking. I just like to separate work and private life, and saw little reason not to extend the same to you."

She struggled back a sob, but spoke with that steely certainty she always showed when on the job. "What do you want, Méchain?"

"I just want to talk, mostly." "Can't- Can we do this some other day today-" her compure broke for a moment, a rare sight. "Today's not..." she trailed off.

"I know. That's... What I wanted to talk about actually. I- I heard about what happened. Do you... Have a place to stay? A friends place perhaps or-" She hesitated for just a moment, but I could tell from the look on her face as much as I had surmised: No. She quickly hid that behind her steely exterior though. "What do you want, Méchain? What's your angle? Here to gloat, or is this some new scheme to get your hands on the Catalogue-"

"Today's not about the catalogue." "Then can you just get to what it IS about? Or- Or just leave me alone!"

Her composure was cracking now. Of course, I always did this. Its so easy to half forget, even if just for a moment, that beneath it all, she is still just a child. I had to do better. "I want to help you." "You expect me to believe that? After everything, you're just going to offer your help and expect me to, what? Let my guard down so you can steal the Catalogue and take over the world?" "No. I... I hope you'll believe me, so that I can actually help you. The Catalogue can wait." "Hah. 'The catalogue can wait'! You- You expect me to belive that?" "...No, i suppose not. But I hope you do. Not to fool you, but because its true... Do you know why I want the Catalogue?" "To take over the world?" "Well, yes, but do you know WHY I want to take over the world?" "Because you're an megalomanic with a god complex?" "Well, yes, but-" "So you can reclaim your ancestors legacy and claim your rightful spot etcetera?" "No, I- Okay, well yes, but no, my reason for wanting to take over the world, is to make it a better place."

"Better? How, are you going to make everyone wear neon coloured suits and slip into monolouges at least once every half hour?"

"No, well, Okay, I would do something about the travesty that is the way people dress, not to mention the clothes the stores sell, horrid. But its about more than-" "What's wrong with letting people dress how they want?" "Have you SEEN people? Worn out sweatpants two sizes too small, shorts that cover less of the behind than they leave exposed, the worst colours imaginable, grey, beige, drab affairs, bereft of any semblance of life, colour coordination or style. Its a bland assault on the senses only matched by the concrete cubes these off-white monstrosities work at, and-" "And what, you'd actually have everyone wear neon coloured suits?" "No no, I'd not force everyone to dress like me, heavens that would be almost as drab." "Then what?" "You know, I have a long and detailed list of every rule I'd implement, we can go over it sometime, when you have an hour or two to spare, it's quite fascinating, I'm particularly fond of the one about- no, pardon me. The long and short of it is I'd make people wear clothes that fit them, went well together, and had at least SOME colour to it."

"What, you hate goths?" "No! Heavens no. While I do prefer those styling of goth that do include a bit of colour, an all black ensemble can be quite stunning, if done well, but doing so requires intentionality. And frankly, colour theory aside, black is MUCH more of a colour than beige- But we're getting side tracked. My reason for wanting to take over the world, is to make it a better place. And I mean the sincerely."

She huffed out a laugh. "The idea of a world you consider better does not exactly inspire confidence. Go on, what would you fix?" "...The list is too long, and too sad, to share with you like this... But I suppose I must share some of it... Did you know that are around two hundred thousand people in the city that do not have a stable place to sleep? There are shelters, but it is limited what can be done with just those kind of means. Systemic change is need to fix the problem, even just for that one city. To solve it for the world?.. I see no other way than the Catalogue. And that is one problem of thousands. Granted, its a big one... But there are certainly ones harder to solve in normal ways. Without the Catalogue, there is little I can do. With it, there is little I can't do." "And what, you'd just use it for good?" "No. I have several plans for it you'd hardly call good, I am honest enough to admit, and we're like to disagree on some of the goods I'd do, too. But- Once again, we're getting of topic, a bad habit of mine, that... It feels strange to say this but... I'd like to offer you a place to stay." "What?" "I can't just let someone I know sleep on the streets, especially not someone your age. Teenage life is hard enough, even with proper shelter and nutrition, I can't in good conscience just leave you to it." "What?" "My house is a bit far from your school, but not so far I can't drive you to and from each day, I have time for that, though you'd have to spend a while at the library after school, before I can pick you up. I have also looked into it, and you could take the bus, its a bit of a roundabout route, and you'd have to leave pretty early, but if you're more comfortable with that-" "Hold on- You- You want to ADOPT me?" "Well... I suppose, yes. Now, of course, we needn't call it that if you're uncomfortable with the-" "But- But you're a villain! We're ENEMIES! You- You can't just ADOPT ME!" "Now now, we are not enemies." "Not enemies??!? We've fought like, a bazillion times!" "Yes yes, we do have quite the rivalry going on, but we are not ENEMIES. Not ONCE have I tried to kill you, and neither have you tried to kill me, hardly grounds to call that 'enemies'."

"I- I don't kill people!" "A noble goal... But you DID blow up that one guy with the Spanish name. Oh, what was it..." "He turned into a giant monster and tried to destroy the city!" "Yes! Exactly! Now there is an enemy! And you vanquished him quite nicely. As one does enemies, why, surely you remember when that blasted woman pretended to work for me but then revealed she was an enemy of us both whom only wanted to steal the Catalogue for herself? Naturally, you thwarted that plan quite nicely, and I did as one does when someone makes themselves an enemy. I dealt with it. THOSE are enemies. Us? Perish the thought."

"...Alright, rivals then... But- But that doesn't mean you can just... Adopt me!" "Why not? I already have most of the paperwork ready to be signed..." "It's not... You're just going to give up on the Catalogue, just like that?" "No! Of course not!... But I would make an effort, even more than I already do, to not have our rivalry get in the way of your education or other important events. We'd not want a repeat of that fiasco last year... Keeping track of your educational schedule is quite difficult with how reluctant your school staff is to keep their online resources up to date. Being able to actually talk with you about it would simplify that greatly."

"...So you DIDN'T do that on purpose?" "HOW was I supposed to do that on purpose? It took 4 weeks of preparation, and your school pushed the event 2 weeks forwards, with no warning I ever caught wind off. I'm not the Oracle of Delphi! ...Didn't even directly notify the parents, I learned after. Really, if they try something like that with you living under my roof, I'll give them a piece of my mind, predictability is important for-" "You're serious, aren't you?" "Yes, naturally. They can't just change the schedule without warning and then-" "I meant about adopting me?" "Oh, yes. That too of course." "...This is just one of your sick plans isn't it, some scheme to-" "No! I mean, I scheme, sure! But I am not a monster! I'd not lie about something like this. No I am quite genuine. No scheme. No trap. No hidden motive... Really, what sort of villain would I be, if I let my rival hero just... Live on the street? As a CHILD? Nonono, that just won't do..." I paused, then continued, as softly and sincerely as I could manage. "It completely understandable if you don't trust me, but I really hope you do."

She let out a small laugh, paused, then started laughing, but it soon turned to crying. I tentatively put a hand on her shoulder, and within moments, she was rubbing snot into my cashmere shirt. I put an arm softly around her. "It's not fair!" she cried "No, its not." i answered softly "Th-they're supposed to be my parents and they- they just-" "Why- why is it that my parents are worse than a literal villain! Its not fair!"

She cried for a while, with a few things like that, said intermediately. I did my best to offer... compassion, though it was hard to say something that could actually help.

Eventually, she composed herself again, and we sat in silence, apart, for a while. Eventually, she started asking practical questions about what it would be like if she said yes. Often with a long silence between each question. Eventually, the questions stopped. By then she'd made it very clear, several times, that if she accepted, we'd be nothing like father and daughter, that it was just practical, and temporary and other diminishing qualifiers. A while after the questions stopped, she asked again, finally, if I was being serious about it, that it wasn't a cruel joke. And then she said yes, and allowed me to pull her into a hug.

"...I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" she said, after. "Maybe." I said, honestly.

----------------------------------

I stood in the library, impatiently tapping my foot, my annoyance clearly being felt by my hostages, despite my masked self.

Finally, Messier Rose arrived, looking a touch winded. "Ah! Messier Rose! How good of you to FINALLY join us." I pushed down the annoyance and worry and got into the profesionality of it. "As you can see-"

"So, young lady, care to explain how it took you over HALF AN HOUR to get to the library you were SUPPOSEDLY studying at?" "... Care to explain why you thought leaving the key with the hostages was a good idea?" "So, in hindsight, I should have left that somewhere else, yes, but you were never supposed to try to free them right away, I thought you'd first try to- No, no! I won't be distracted this time. Why weren't you at the library, hmm?" "...Well, the thing is..." "Yes?" "...So, I just... There's this movie, and well, some friends were going..." "Was one of these friends called Ramon, maybe?" "...yes..." "Now, Madeline, you know what I've said." She started blushing. "It's perfectly okay if you want to go see your boyfriend-" "Dad, he's not my boyfriend!" she was red as a beet. "Even if he does dress shabbily, you really should bring him over one day so I can give him some much-needed fashion advice-"

"Daaad!" "But I'd like to know when you do, wanting to see your boyfriend-" "He's not my boyfriend!" "is perfectly natural, but we need to have a few boundaries about this. And speaking of boundaries-" "DAAAAAD!"

[adderalltheblue]

Best wizard pickup lines, GO!

[ttenaciouscollectionblurb]

"I'd ponder your orbs." "Before you ask, yes, you can touch the staff, but only because you're cute." "It doesn't take divination magic for me to see a future with you." "Are you Malthezar the Eater of Worlds, he who looms in the space between dimensions, waiting for the end of time, cursing all who see him with unending nightmares of the coming calamity? Because ever since I first laid eyes on you, I can't get you off my mind."

"I have watched eons pass by. I have seen dragons eradicate entire countries. I have seen countless wars. I have seen heroes and villains, greater than any in written recount, now forgotten by history. I have watched civilisations rise and fall... But tonight, all I want, to see, is the rise and fall of your chest, as you sleep softly next to me." "The very fabric of the cosmos is not the only thing I can bend to my will..." "I have watched eons pass by. I have seen dragons eradicate entire countries. I have seen countless wars. I have seen heroes and villains, greater than any in written recount, now forgotten by history. I have watched civilisations rise and fall... But tonight, all I want, to see, is that ass bouncing on my- Oww! Hey, what'd I do!"

"I'm the greatest teleporter known to man, wherever you want to go baby, I can take you there. The spires of Enrath, the mists of Eluria, the golden fields of Arun'netha, babe, the sights I can show you would rock your world... So, what do you say? Want me to rock your world? cause babe, i know you would rock mine." "Are you fireball? Because you're the solution to all my problems." "What's 2000 meters tall, super hot, and causing earthquakes for miles? Us, if you're into transformation magic." "You like Jazz?... You know, the demon? You don't? Really? How could you not know Jazz, he was the one who- Never mind. Sorry. Not important... umm, if you do like him- Right, shit. I'm like Jazz in that- umm You know.... total honesty, I was just going for a pun about jazzed about you, but I kinda lost the thread... Wanna fuck?"

[partywithponies]

Women can write m/m. Men can write f/f. Asexuals can write filthy smut. Lesbians and gay men can write m/f. It's all arbitrary anyway. Who give a shit.

[partywithponies]

"Oh but they don't have an experience of-" I don't have any experience committing or solving murders either but that's still mostly what I read and write about.

[bigmickswingin]

Its not that difficult really. Stimulate the meats until it feels good. Thats all of sex of all persuasions writ small. If you know how to stimulate your meats you can extrapolate the rest.

The whole of heaven is pretty much just all the same stuff in different arrangements.

-Confucius

[ttenaciouscollectionblurb]

Writing also isn't about describing the thing, it's about giving an experience, not even necessarily an accurate experience, just an experience, and there are many ways to arive at it. Things are also connected. As you say, one meat is not that different from anotehr meat... And that goes beyond just sex scenes. If stuff is being done to living bits, that changes how those living bits feel, that's the same thing. Platonic backrub scene. Sex scene. Live alien autopsy in a sci fi. Stranded in a wild guy stitching his leg back on with some wacky homemade sowing kit. It's all the same, if you approach it from the same angle, be it focusing on the visceral nature, doing a detached overview, or whatever. You change the words around a bit, but the rythm, flow, detail, it's all pretty much the same. A conversation is a verbal dance. A dance is a bloodless battle. A battle is a conversation with swords. It's one of the things I love most, about being introspective about writing, the ways things connect, the way experiences translate to things they have no right to.

[lizardsfromspace]

NaNoWriMo, the competition whose raison d'etre is making people write actual words for a month, declaring that you can do writing with AI is a predictably inane choice. But coaching their statement in social justice language about how banning AI is classist and ableist, now that elevates it to the sublimely dopey

[lizardsfromspace]

It's very ableist and classist to ban AI in writing...but implying disabled and poor people simply aren't capable of writing is very good and supportive

[la-horrorosa]

well, fuck.

[striving-artist]

Welp, guess I'm not doing Nano anymore.

[ttenaciouscollectionblurb]

Nano was fun. Guess I'll just have to find other exuses to write this year.

[ttenaciouscollectionblurb]

I can't write "who's done it"' at all, but I have an idea I would love to see done well.

A show where the structure is identical to classic ones, like Poirot, set in the same sort of time period, maybe a bit earlier. And the entire twist on the premise is... the detective is black. But not in a Netflix way, but in a social analysis way. He's famous, though much less so than poirot, and really skilled, on the level of the greats, but he only deals in "leftover" cases. He's not solving the murder of the Duke, because he's not invited to dine with the duke, nor would they trust one like him to solve it if he somehow was. Through the show, he's helped by a food good cops, while the rest of the force not only does not help him, but actively works against him, sabotaging his cases, dismissing him etc, to the level that sometimes, the good cops have to take credit for the MCs work, just to get the solution accepted. Then, as a season finale, there's a case where a black guy kills a cop in legitimate self-defence. And the MC tries to get the good cops to help, but the good cops go 'I would love to help, but the other cops are super pissed, we can't do much here, our hands are tied, sorry." and it culminates in the bad cops shooting and killing the 'cop killer'. The good cops refuse to testify against the other cops, despite seeing first-hand that it was murder, plain and simple, no threat to anyone. Leading to the mc giving up on the police all together. You'd need to be really good at character work and the genre to pull it off as well as it works in my head, I think. It would be very easy for it to feel over the top, or exaggerated in ways that would just sour audiences, instead of working as social commentary, or turning into pure social commentary without being a good show and who's done it in its own right, with or without social commentary. But it's a genre and message combo I would love to see done perfectly.

[writing-prompt-s]

You thought your minions were taking notes but when one of them yells "Bingo!" in the middle of one of your evil monologues to the captured Heroes, you're forced to re-evaluate things.

[ttenaciouscollectionblurb]

"-and once I have, the world will have no choice, but to bow before me, and -" "BINGO!" Yelled one of the guards, before slapping his hand over his mouth. I turned to him, unable to fully suppress my annoyance. "Allan..." The man swallowed, and answred nervously"Yes boss?" "Do correct me if I am wrong but... Am I to understand... That all this time... You've all been... Playing bingo?" "...yes boss." the man sounded like a chastised child... And he might well! How dare they when he was- I took a calming breath. "Hand me that bingo sheet, this instance," I said, calmly. As he did, i read over it. 'Mentions traumatic childhood', 'bow before me', 'Well well well, who have we here?', 'chuckles ominously', 'greets heroes theatrically' 'How rude'. I put the sheet down, feeling flabbergasted... "Am I that predictable?" silence. Dead silence. "Betty? Allan? Michael? No one?" I turned to my second in command "James? Am I this predictable? Truly?" "...You DO lean into the clichés a bit, boss." "Cliché..: Cliché?!?! It's ART! Our optics! I have a reputation! Cliché!... Chilcé... It's art I tell you, ART!" "A bit derivative, if you ask me." one of the heroes says with a smirk, and without even looking his way, I pull my gun, and shoot him in the head.

"Hush, darling, the adults are talking. As I was saying: I know I Indulge in tropes a bit, but cliché? Its not easy, this you know? To hit that sweet spot of-" "You killed him!" one of the female heroes clamoured. "You just fucking killed him!" "Yes yes, you'll have your turn soon enough dear... Cliché James?" "Boss, no one's saying you're not good at this, you are! But you have become a bit... predictable. Maybe you just need some new material? Some fresh perspective? Maybe, if this plan doesn't work out, you could take a break year? You could even go back to Julliard!" "Julliard? JULLIARD!?!?! I do not need JULLIADRD!!!!!" I took a deep breath, before muttering "Philistines. Philistines the lot of them. No appreciation for good art, a good laugh." I sneered "' Could you do it more like Mark Hamil'" I mockingly quoted. "Mark Hamil! I am more than a glorified Mark Hamil impersonator! There is more than one way to do an evil laugh! There is no one correct answer!" I start counting on my fingers. "Fukuyama Yun, Nakata Jōji, Alan Oppenheimer..." I pause, catching myself from listing off every master of the craft. "Philistines. Philistines I tell you..." "You- You killed him and- and you're talking about art?" the other woman said, between choking sobs. "Yes yes, again, adults talking." "You can't just-" Two quick shots after, there was finally blessed silence. "Ugh, the vibe for today is all ruined. Ruined I tell you. Back to the drawing board. James, send the UN our demands or whatever." "Sure thing boss." "And Allan... You're on cleanup duty."

[staff]

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[ttenaciouscollectionblurb]

Make this an opt-in and also go fuck yourselves.

[artbyblastweave]

There's a question which the west coast Fallout games are quietly litigating, which is that age-old gotcha about what you do with the remaining orcs once you've deposed Sauron. In the original Fallout, the Super Mutants are basically universally aligned against the quote-unquote "good guys," for whatever value of that term is applicable to the wasteland at large, but subsequent games make it clear that this was an ideological thing, and a product of the political moment of the mutants creation rather than an ontological quality that they have. The game is very aware that this is something that was done to them, and the tragedy of that; the first mutant you're likely to run into is dying scared and alone.

Fallout 2 presents super mutants who've broken in every direction ideologically in the aftermath of the Unity's collapse; the peacemakers under Marcus at Broken Hills, Gond as a member of the abolitionist NCR rangers, reactionary remnants of the original mutant army, genocidal self-hating fascists like Frank Horrigan. Fallout: New Vegas iterates on this beautifully. The mutants dovetail perfectly with the theme of how every faction in the wasteland is trying and oftentimes failing to reckon with the weight of history. Their utopian movement imploded outside of living memory, closer to the apocalypse than to the present day. The survivors- who can only dwindle in number due to their sterility- have been left to reckon with that in whatever way they can. And they have their backs to about a hundred and twenty years of that reckoning not going particularly well, of being the bugbear and boogeymen for bullies and ideologues whose grandparents weren't even alive to suffer from the Unity's actions. The lack of a collective future for mutantkind casts a pall over even the best ending for Jacobstown; humans are collectively resilient within this setting, but through violence, and accidents, dementia and senility, the day will inevitably come when there are no mutants left. And worse still will be the day before that, when there's only one mutant left. Finding some form of satisfaction or contentment within that dwindling window, with the world against you, is a task that falls to the individual mutant. (Take Mean Sonovabitch, for example. He seems to be doing alright for himself.)

Then we slide on over to the east coast games, where the mutants are.... morons. Cannibals. Marauders. And when you meet one who isn't, the game throws itself a ticker-tape parade for containing such an audacious twist. To go back to the orc thing, it's like if The Hobbit had contained a lengthy, empathetic subplot about the rich internality and fleshed-out-if-deeply-flawed ideology of the orcs, and then there was a pivot to treating them like a monolithic block of ontologically evil marauders in LOTR. While staring you straight in the eye the whole time, unblinking. Daring you to say something

[ttenaciouscollectionblurb]

You've put this beautifully. Thank you. For me, the biggest disapointment about Fallout 3 (there were many), was the ghouls, and the mutants, for the reasons you outlined. For the ghouls... even from the first game, the games made it so clear a point that ghouls weren't zombies or monsters. They might look like it, people might treat them like it... but they're not. They're just people. Necropolis was one of my favorite places in the original. Then... ferals. Everything the first game spent so much on proving... cast away without a thought. The east coast games still have regular ghouls... But it almost feels worse. Like the games want to have their cake and eat it too. It's not for thematic reasons, or any deeper message... Just specatcle. It broke my heart. It still hurts. There's so much about the way the new games work I am not a fan of, but the times when the games take something I truly loved about the originals and then just... Ignores everything about it that made it special and good in the first place, focusing on details so surface level they barely even feel surface level. To me, it feels like the first game wears 'ghouls are humans' so openly, that even a surface-level reading would get it. But apparently, Bethesda either didn't get the memo or more likely... Didn't care. I wouldn't have minded if the games truly did something with them. If feralness was a scary thing for ghouls, if it changed the world, if we met ghouls in grieving, over old friends turning. if it was given weight... But like everything else, the closest we get are hints at it, or single thoraway lines, with no weight behind them. As it is in the games, every feral ghoul encounter could have been replaced with a pack of rabid dogs, or mutated giant squirrels, and it would subtract nothing from the game, only add to it. To throw away what the ghoul story had, just for that? It feels so sad. The mutant storyline is more complex, and the loss of it is therefore, in some ways, greater... But to me, there's something about the fact that it was so simple to do the ghouls right. All they had to do, was nothing. But they couldn't even manage that.

[abyssal-plains]

[ttenaciouscollectionblurb]

I love this thing. Just the idea of this eldritch little guy creeping towards me in the dead of night, in a dream that's just a little too real. Chef kiss. Perfect lil guy.

[writing-prompt-s]

your entire life youve had a guardian angel who kills or severely injures anyone it considers to have wronged you. However, this causes you to be highly suspected of committing these murders. You’re currently an interrogation room and have to explain your innocence.

[ttenaciouscollectionblurb]

"Look, I'm nearly as upset about this as you are, and I realize this is beyond strange, but didn't do any of this, and frankly I honestly don't know how you think it's even possible for me to have done most of these."

"look drop the act we just need you to-" The other cop interrupted him. "Hold on, 'nearly' as upset as us? what about this is not upsetting to you?" shit. "W-well. Umm, I'm pretty sure at least some of those people had it out for me, so while I'd much much rather have had things work out better, I can't quite bring myself to be upset that, for instance, the guy who rear-ended me, and then threatened to bash my skull in with, and I quote 'a rusty 9 iron', got clipped by a car due to, you know, standing in the middle of the road and banging on my window."

"So... this is all just... happy coincidences?" the calm cop said. "There's nothing happy about it, honestly, a happy coincidence for that previous one would have been you lot showing up to give him a ticket. What happened was more like... A silver lining, I guess?"

"mhm..." it was clear he did not believe me.

The angry cop remained uncharacteristically silent, while his partner, the calmer, better-dressed one, continued. "And how about your neighbor, Mr Johnson? 'Mysterious' fall down his stairs, leading to a fatal break of the neck, the very same day he mutilated your carefully maintained hedge, presumably due to your disagreement in the HOA over the heights of said hedge earlier that day. Was that also something with a 'silver lining'? Because it looks to me, that you've experienced quite a few of these 'silver linings'. There's also ms Magby,"

he flipped through another document "heart attack, at the ripe old age of 38... two days after calling you an 'ugly, dumb motherfucker only a mother could love', in public, after the two of you met for a blind date."

He flipped to another document "And Mr. and Ms. Smith, both still in hospital after, and this one is perhaps my favourite of the bunch, 'both being involved in elevator mishaps at their respective places of work, within 5 minutes of each other'. Now I have to hand it to you, I agree, I have no idea how you did that one. Very impressive. However, it's still clear to me, given that this all happened three days after Ms. Smith stole your cookbook and passed off your mother's spice cake as her own during a community bbq, where Mr. Smith also publicly accused you of having a vendetta against them and being 'a lying sob', when you pointed it out, and succeeding in turning the others against you, that these 'silver linings', are far beyond mere coincidence. In every single case here." he slapped the quite substantial pile.. which was one of three.

"we have found these so-called 'silver linings'. And there are still several cases we're investigating," he motioned to another stack, on a different table " that happen suspiciously close to you, in some manner. That's something I'd like to know more about. What's the deal there? Did-" he pulled a document from that other pile "-little Susy's being restrained to a wheelchair for the next few years also have a 'silver lining' to you, and we've just been able to find it, or was breaking a little girls legs more of just regular Friday night fun to you?" "Look-I have nothing to do with that one!" "With THAT one? So you DO have something to do with the others? What, mass murder is fine by you, but breaking a girl's legs too much?" "Guess even monsters have standards," the other officer said. "I didn't do any of these!" "...But you had something to do with them, is that it? Someone else do the dirty work for you? What, are you the world's least subtle crime lord?" "I didn't want any of this, okay?" "Oh? You didn't want-" another document "Mr. Olsen to get permanently blinded after taking candid photos of your then girlfriend? Not for said girlfriend to die in a car crash four weeks later, with the man she cheated on you with, the last timing being mere minutes prior to her death? These things all just... Happened? And what? You shrug your shoulders, think about silver linings, and go about your day? No... I think not."

The officer put the documents away, and half stood as he leaned over the interrogation table, threateningly. "I think you're a very angry, very vindictive, very possessive person. And I think, whenever someone slights you in even the tiniest way... You just can't help but get even... And who knows, maybe, sometimes, when life does you wrong, with no one to blame but maybe yourself, some poor soul, like little Susy, gets to be your... effigy, your ritualized sacrifice. Someone to take it all out on, even if they had nothing to do with it. To calm your anger, however temporary... Well, no more."

He sat down in his chair again, folded his arms on the table, and stared me in the eyes. "You're clearly not going to confess... And we can't nail you for any of these... But until we do... I'm going to charge you with each and every one of them. And I am going to keep you here, for as long as I can. And when we can't anymore, I'll charge you with the next one. And the next one, and the next one. And I am going to keep doing that, until we finally get you, you confess, or they fire me for it... But guess what? Someone else will take my place. And there are enough cases here." he slapped one of the piles "to keep you here for a long, long time." The officer stood up and started to walk out of the room. "Now, you can either sit there, and wait for a ticket out of here that is never going to come, or you can confess and save us both some trouble. Hey, it even has one of those silver linings you like so much- if you actually go to prison, you'll get to meet other sick freaks like yourself. Who knows, some of them might even be fans. That enough of a 'silver lining' for you or-" The officer stopped mid-sentence, and grabbed his chest. Shit. 'No, stop! Please, not here!' I prayed silently. It never worked. The officer fell to his knees, clearly in pain. The other policeman rushed to, but there was nothing he could do, as the lead officer died, presumably of a heart attack. After a moment, the surviving officer got up and rushed me.

"Officer Mackenzie, do not approach the suspect!" the intercom shouted. But the policeman didn't care, he grabbed my hair and smashed my face into the table, hard.

The world spun, and I was pretty sure my nose was broken. The officer yelled in my face. "You fucking killed him! I'll kill you you psyco-" Then he stopped, grabbed his head... and colpased. ...Not for the first time, I resented having this vindictive a guardian angel... On the other, I was quite thankful the enraged officer hadn't gotten to smash my head in... Silver linings.

[writing-prompt-s]

Being a magical girl is an extremely dangerous and short lived calling. Due to your horrific injuries on the job, you’re retired. You’re trying to teach the next generation of magical girls, but feel they don’t trust you due to your physical disability.

[ttenaciouscollectionblurb]

I look out my window, at the four young magical girls, who look so very young. Was I that young, when it started? So innocent? So... pristine? Even in their civilian clothes they look... Magical, almost. I must have looked the same, once. Not for the first time, I wish there was a way to... Not. A way for them to go back to their bright, simple lives... But they'd been chosen, and they were eager. Even if I sent them away, they would find their own ways into danger, or danger would find them. I hobbled to the door, deciding I didn't need my crutch for just letting them in and going back here... I regret it half way there. My leg already prickling with pain... ButI've lived through far worse. I open the door, and I see the sparkle in their eye, the excitement, the mixed hope and dread, turn to worry and distrust, revulsion, in one of them. We stand, for a moment, looking at each other. Eventually, I break the silence, motioning them inside. "You'd best come inside." My voice, once silky smooth, now gravely, in a way I never get used to. They hesitate, for a moment, each looking at different parts of me,as if i cannot follow their eyes. One, the shy looking one, with long, velvet hair, reaching down almost to her knees, at the burn covering half my scalp, leaving that area bald. The one with long, red-haired braids, the one I saw, from my window, with a look in her eyes like she'd challenge the world without batting them, at the missing fingers on my left hand. The pink haired girl, that even now, even with fear and distrust in her eyes, still stands tall, in front of her friends, at my leg, no doubt seeing the way I keep the weight off it. The last one, the blonde, dressed in what must be the latest fashion, with painted nails and perfect makeup, at the scar on my face, our eyes lock, my eyes, one good, one half blind from the wound that gave the scar, staring into each other for a moment. After a moment, she averts her gaze, and pushes through, past the others, keeping her eyes on the ground. The others snap out of it, and in varying degrees of hesitation, follow after. I direct them to the living room. "Just take your seats there." I say, and hobble over to join them. They sit, tensely, as I ease myself into my chair. Their eyes flitter around the room uncertainly, even as I speak. They listen with half an ear to my lecturing, my advice, with the other, for a threat. I know nothing I can say will ease their worries. But it wounds my heart... And it worries me. Was I so easily swayed by appearances, at their age?... I suspect I was. The thought pains me, not because of the idea of my own foolish past, but at what a similarly foolish future would mean for these four girls. I wish nothing more, but to aid them, that no one live through what I did, so unprepared... But they do not hear, not truly. And what they do hear, they'll doubt, and ignore. I sigh, and direct them out, into the back yard, grabbing my crutch, this time.

None of them were eager, to display their powers. Did they fear a trap? Or that I would probe them for vulnerabilities, to tell their enemies? Eventually though, the pink haired one, their leader, took the plunge and transformed. Again, I marveled. So much power, so much potential... So naive, so simple. An hour later, the four transformed back. Pretending to have exhausted their power. Believing they could decive me, even for a moment, when I once weilded those same powers. Thought I did not see their silent communication, as if I had not done the same, so many times, all those years ago. They believed, I could tell, that I was tricked, that I thought they trusted me. I... Let them belive it. Better, to be thought of as the villain they were fooling, than one clever enough to be a true threat. I had no illusions they would trust me, no matter what I said... I told them to jog around the yard a few times, to build more stamina, if their powers faded so soon. The glare they sent their leader told me whose plan the deceit had been. As they jogged, I could not help but see my old friends, superimposed over them. And my traitorous mind, showed me how they each died. Even after they left, exhausted enough to forget to be wary, I kept seeing it, the image of each of them, the way my friends had been in death. Scarred, wounded, disabled. The cautious smile of the shy one, marred by my own scars, and my own bitter face. 15 years ago. I had been like them. In fifteen... They would be like me. Or worse. And I was powerless to stop it. All I could do was to offer advice they would not heed. Lessons they would only learn as I had, the hard way. I wept. For what I had lost. And what they would likely lose.

[prokopetz]

Went to a burger place to pick up lunch and I swear they were playing some sort of arrangement of the fucking EarthBound OST on the PA. Imagine walking into a fast food restaurant in real life and hearing this:

[ttenaciouscollectionblurb]

Honestly, that is the burger place I'd aspire to be, if I was a burger place.

[writing-prompt-s]

You are a merchant in a fantasy world peddling your wares when your best customer comes along and asks you how you’ve been able to get to a location ahead of them, though monster-infested terrain while also bringing your massive amount of supplies and equitment everywhere you go.

[ttenaciouscollectionblurb]

"Ah yes," I say, carefully "Curious that, isn't it?" I turn to the mountains, "The world is full of mysteries, is it not?" "No," the adventurer says "No I want a real answer, you're not philosophying your way out of this." "Ah, but philosophy is the answer, my good customer." I stand, offering the adventurer my chair, which he hesitantly takes. "Tell me," i ask, as he sits, an unasked question on his face, "what do you see, out there?" i gesture to the hills and forests, between here, and where we last met. "I- I see dangerous wilderness, beauty and danger in equal measure behind each tree. I see opportunity and risk... most of all though, I guess I just see... A forest. Some hills." "I nod. The forest and the hills are the most obvious, are they not? Yet, it's what many overlook, seeing only the dangers that might lurk within... But in the end, its just a forest. Just some hills. Sure, dangerous things might make themselves a home there. But danger lurks in the city too, somewhere, dangerous men make their dens. Somewhere, unsavory deals take place. Yet, are you afraid of walking down the main street? No. For you know the city. More, perhaps, in your case, you know yourself to be a match to anything that lurks within. And as you, or most people at least, know the city, i know these forests, these hills. I know the signs, the paths, the times. There is risk yes, but such risks are always present in life. But I fear no more, trekking through familiar paths, at familiar times, avoiding familiar signs of familiar beasts, than the fear that life gives me for living. In fact, the most dangerous part of my job, i feel, comes at the end of my travel. For while the hearts of beasts are predictable, the hearts of men are unknowable. Any kind adventurer I meet in my travels might turn out to be a theif, or a murderer, or a silver-tongued scammer. That is a greater danger to me, than a dryad basking in the sun, in a grove in which I do not thread, or a wyvern, roosting on a nest I step not within a hundred paces off." "I... Suppose that makes sense" the adventurer said, after a moment. Forgetting to ask again about my alacrity. He sits for a moment, contemplating. "But then," he eventually asks "how do you bring with you all those goods, on these travels?" "My dear customer... less than a week ago, you stopped at the town square, and sold me forty wyvern eggs. How did you, daresay, carry all of them from the wilderness, and into town? And why, daresay, do you presume us merchants do not, on occasion, possess similar means?... and, in truth, though, do not share this with others, even the more honorable seeming of your kind turns to theft easily, if given the opportunity, and bear in mind, i tell you only this because I trust you... But I do not carry it all. Some, i leave, hidden away, nearby. I bring some of my gold, the perishables, and some other items. The rest? I leave them, until I have need of them, or in hopes of selling them the next time I set up shop there. There is some loss to this, but my stashes are well hidden, and it is rare indeed someone stumbles onto them." "Oh, I guess i never considered that. Is that why your stock changes, between each time I see you?" "It is a part of it, yes." "Huh. Well, thank you for the explanation, and sorry to have asked." "No harm done, no harm done. Now, what are you buying?" Not long later, the adventurer once more braved the wilds... And I, I kept my secrets, some of them, for another day.