angrybasementballoon

[angrybasementballoon]

Hi, my name is [redacted]. Who here knows anything about Lord of the Rings? Oh you do? That's cute. Let me explain to you why Tom Bombadil is the most powerful character in the entire trilogy. Sure he only appeared in the first part of Fellowship of the Ring, but WOW does he make an impression. Puts on the ring and shows no ill effects? Is he Eru Iluvatar or something? Anyway....

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Hey, hey. What do you know about Japanese female rock bands? You know Babymetal? Adorable. They're more of an idol group. You really should have listened to Hanabie or Nemophila and they're just the tip of the iceberg. So many talented young women. Each band has a little thing that makes them stand out. Band Maid has a little bit of a funk element in the bass, East of Eden has a violinist, Otoboke Beaver is just straight punk, which is kind of rare these days. Hey, where are you going? You don't get to walk away from me, you're in this discussion for the long haul. Where was I? Oh right, all female JRock. I wonder if Satan has a computer, I need to play you some songs. Lovebites' sound will literally knock your socks off....

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Jodie Whitaker as the 13th Doctor wasn't as bad as people say. Jodie just suffered under poor writing and directing. She deserved to have Moffat or Davies as showrunner. Though if they were at the helm we would have missed out on gems like "Rosa," "Demons of the Punjab," and the Pting. The Pting is the greatest alien since the Ood. Love an Ood.

There’s good news and bad news. Bad news, you’re in hell. Good news, you’re not being punished. You are the punishment.

[angrybasementballoon]

Oh!

The Betrayal!

Taken from the fridge and carefully toasted to perfection.

Each moment spent from away me was an eternity. With bated breath, I awaited your return.

Butter spread lovingly from one edge to another; ensuring no spot was uncovered.

The joy you would now bring me stuck in my throat.

And how do you repay me?

With no warning, you slip from my hand as I lift you to my mouth; landing not on my plate, but on the carpet.

I have not yet vacuumed this week and now, now you are covered in cat fur and dirt.

Alas!

The pain!

I must wait further to be satisfied. For all I want is you, my beloved.

But you are now trash, former snack.

I bite my thumb at thee.

Write a dramatic poem about the seething depressing feeling of having your covered toast fall butter side down.

[angrybasementballoon]

Fear. It is everywhere these days. 

Incredilad’s story was easy to discover. He remembers being at *REDACTED* and I got all the CCTV recordings I could from there and surrounding businesses. Which was all of them. I walk in any building and people simply comply. No questions asked. Perks of being a supervillain will help with being a regular old sleuth.

The recordings have led to three possible suspects. Incredilad can’t identify them, didn’t know if they were indeed the perps, but how could he? He had so much GHB in his system, I’m surprised he could find my house, much less walk. Yet he did and it was not easy to patch him up. The bastards who hurt him really messed him up. Medically, he’s okay; mentally, well, I’ve now got the best therapist in the world working with him now. He and I won’t be fighting for a long time. Maybe never again.

I haven’t become good. Let’s not go that far. But my focus has changed. There are lines in the sand that cannot be crossed. I know that now. And what happened to Incredilad is one of those lines. Call me selfish. Tell me how awful I am to now care because it hit home for me. You are right, but I am in this fight now and for me, it will not stop.

I know who the perps are. All three are responsible.

They don’t know who they messed with. They don’t know what fear is.

You, a supervillain, answer a knock at your door, only to find your superhero nemesis shivering, bleeding, scared, and slightly dazed (as if drugged). They appear to have been assaulted. The hero mumbles “…didn’t know where else to go…” before collapsing into your arms.

[angrybasementballoon]

I’m the Doctor, what’s your name?

A monster is used to people running, screaming, frozen in fear begging etc. But someone sighing cracking their neck, rolling up their sleeves, and walking towards them is new.

[angrybasementballoon]

Long have we fought, Cinnabone and I. We have fought legions of demons and angels to get here: the gates of Lucifer’s personal prison. The Master (as Cinnabone calls him) was moved here in an effort to keep us from him. A move made out of pure spite and one doomed to fail from the beginning.

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I awakened from a long slumber, confused and slightly bemused at the dog begging for help. I was so when I noticed the body. The Master had fallen suddenly, the dog explained, can I please help? Unfortunately, once a soul is taken by Death, I cannot put it back in it’s old body I explained. I could create a new body if the soul were found, but that is a long and treacherous road. One a dog surely cannot survive. Cinnabone (as I knew to call him) lay down defeated. I knew they would never be reunited. For some reason the New God would not allow it, no matter how much I explained the cruelty of it to them.

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Cinnabone and I take the prison head on. I, a god, and he, a now immortal beast, could not be defeated. The demons knew that now. The ancient powers held sway over all. Legions have died, ushered on by their master in a senseless attempt to keep The Master from us. I have never divined the reasoning. The Master was one human amongst billions. Nothing special but that a dog loved him and he his dog.

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Come, Cinnabone. We are leaving to find The Master I said. We will journey together until he is found. Using ancient spells that had not been spoken in Eons, I gave Cinnabone powers and gifts not typically bestowed on mortals of any species. We were going to be fighting many things and the dog needed to have the power to withstand them. Cinnabone was eager to find The Master and quickly took to his new abilities. He truly is a good dog.

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Those bastards. They moved The Master again. I will not stop until I find him. We will not stop. If I must, I will destroy all to reunite Cinnabone with The Master. Cinnabone tells me he was moved not too long ago. The Hunt continues....

You are summoned to the realm of men, expecting to make a deal with a foolish mortal, but find yourself in an old library. The book that summoned you here is open on the floor, next to a fallen, unmoving old man…and a dog frantically looking for help. The dog approaches you, whimpering…

[angrybasementballoon]

I really didn’t think that would go so wrong.

Instead of “Oh, sure, sounds like a plan, Hades” “Sorry, we got you” I got “ YOU ARE A FALSE GOD” “YOU ARE NOT OUR DARK LORD”. Then, they tried to kill me. They tried to kill a LITERAL GOD. I just stood there, of course. Their attempts got wilder and wilder. First a sword here, a spear there. Then came the boiling pitch. Dude, I BATHE IN THAT. And what were they thinking trying to pray to the other gods? Helllloooo? You pray to me for a reason. No one else listens to your crazy talk.

 Any way, it. Is. On. Motherfuckers. Those kids they sent me? The poor souls slaughtered in their prime? They’re now my private army. I’m a god and with that goes the ability to imbue others with power. First, I went with a good old fashioned haunting. A dark shape down a corridor, moving objects randomly, that creepy voice whispering in their ear. Heh, that has made more than one crap their pants. That’s what you get smelly boy.

Next came the possessions. Suddenly the little one is speaking in tongues. Who knew Hindi and Gaelic could be so frightening? And that series of drawings is nothing more than a future helicopter you absolute dopes.

When the plagues started, they tried to convert to Judaism! As if the conversion could make it all stop. Too bad me and the Abrahamic God are tight. He asked what was going on at bowling last week and we shared a laugh over the whole situation. He got good old Luci to send some hell hounds. Those cultists are more confused than ever!

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Zeus: Hades, is this story going anywhere?

Hades: Ever the buzzkill. You used to be fun you know.

Zeus: And now I just want to nap.

Hades: Fine, I need Hercules and Perseus. And the kraken.

Zeus: ...You’re the god of the underworld, just raise them all from the dead.

Hades: Yea, but I figured the nice thing to do was ask.

Zeus: You? Nice?

Hades: I know, I know. But isn’t it better to know why they’re running around than wonder what the hell I’m doing and why?

Zeus: Yes. It is.

Hades: Oh, and can I borrow your thunderbolt?

Zeus: No, find a different way to smite them.

Hades: Buzzkill.

A cult is about to sacrifice a child in the name of their dark god. That’s when the deity shows up and says: “People, my house is teeming with these kids you keep sending me. It would please me more if you raised them yourselves in a responsible manner.”

[angrybasementballoon]

I have chosen to do neither. The pleading never ends. Day in and day out, friends and loved ones have implored me to take on either quest. I have no desire to do so. Not out of spite, nor laziness. I just don’t see the need. I don’t see the need to worship at a consistent interval. I don’t see how a god would take attendance. I am content simply being me. “Blasphemer,” I am called. “Heretic.” I am avoided at the marketplace; and at work. I am a pariah because I still live. I still live while not participating in the societal norms. Speaking out on  Secretly, I have been researching this mark. I have read thousands of pages on this old god. Gaia, she is called. Mother Earth. I love her and I will protect her, worshipping her in my own way.

A mark on your forehead identifies the god you must worship to stay alive, usually by joining its local church or temple. Your mark is unknown, meaning an old, forgotten god sponsored you. To survive, you must either find an old temple to worship at, or do the arduous task of building a new one

[angrybasementballoon]

Yea, I fucking did it and I’d do it all again. Let me be plain, humanity sucks. Well...it did. It’s dead now. Every. Single. Human. Is dead. And good riddance. We were well on our way to destroying the planet. We killed off an uncountable number of species. We filled the atmosphere with disgusting chemicals. We bickered over petty differences and fought wars because we thought we were entitled to a specific piece of land. Fuck that shit. We didn’t deserve to go on and now, we don’t.

It took me years to figure out how to target just humans. I killed numerous animals in the process and I truly regret that. They deserved better and now the rest of their kind will have it. I thought about targeting specific groups, but I realized I was either getting into eugenics (ew, no thanks) or that the system would just rebuild with new people in power. The only way to really save the planet was for all of us to die.

And here we are. Dead. I’m not welcome in Heaven and looking at the face of the Devil, I’m not sure I’m going to be welcome here either.

You died and were sent to hell, but instead of getting escorted down to a specific level of hell, you’re escorted straight to the Devil himself who looks mildly horrified while holding the file of your life in his hands.

[angrybasementballoon]

They thought they could put me back and I would forgive. And forget. But I haven’t. I have waited years.

My parents were confused when I started kicking ass on the playground. It wasn’t personal; it was instinct. I couldn’t stand by and watch anyone being bullied. Not after what I’d seen. I became a protector of the weak, the shy, the different. I am a friend to all.

Everyone was confused by my mood swings and anxiety attacks. The insomnia and flashbacks. No one could understand where they came from. Oh, I tried to explain, but that creates questions and visits to “specialists” and medications. I couldn’t have that. Not with all the work I needed to do.

I had been sent back, but I still have my memories. I still remember all the technology and enchantments. I worked very hard at recreating them. Wondering if they would work in my world. The funding was easy to come by. Fix people’s problems and the cash flows in.

It was all for this moment. My time to return. I step through this portal and I return to the world that created me. I step through and find every person who trained, pushed, and used me.

I am vengeance.

And I am coming.

They stole you from your world when you were but a young girl, and they forged you into a magical weapon that has been feared across the cosmos. Now that the war is over and you’ve won, they send you back to the moment before they captured you. The skills, PTSD, and memories? Those never fade.

[angrybasementballoon]

IT (1990) dir. Tommy Lee Wallace

[angrybasementballoon]

These dumb fucks. You made it across the Appalachians. Good for you. I don’t know if you’re lucky or just plain stupid and it doesn’t mean you can attack just anyone.

People thought the apocalypse was going to be nuclear war or that super collider in Europe wreaking havoc. Something scientific. A meteor or a virus. No one thought it would be a warlock succeeding in ripping a hole in the fabric of the universe and unleashing LITERAL hell on the world. But they did and here we are.

Alright, maybe not literal, but that’s what it seemed like in the first few days. Creatures like we’d never seen came pouring through and it was all we could do to keep them at bay. Thank God for the rednecks. (Never thought I’d say that.) Those fools managed to stave off the worst of the tide until the Armed Forces could respond. But a few...things...got through and wreaked havoc.

There was no pattern to the attacks. Some went for cities, some went for the fish, and one fucker simply ate the left front tire of every vehicle in France. Every. Single. One.

I couldn’t even begin to describe them. Monstrous things filmmakers would love to imagine. The best I can come up with is Cthulu, but weirder. We managed to kill them and the hole was sealed, but the damage was done. Earth was no longer thriving and technology was useless. It became every man for himself.

Then the changes began. One in ten babies are born with powers. (We don’t have many babies anymore) Animals that were docile became ravenous hunters. The trees began to walk. Some electronics became sentient. We still don’t know what kind of energy source they run off of. They’re elusive and deadly, so it’s a tacit “live and let live” arrangement with them.

Humans no longer dare to go into the wilds. Those that do, rarely return. So crossing the Appalachians is actually a big deal. The stories survivors come back with make almost no sense. Gelatinous beings, horned cats, trees that talk. Before we would have thought the survivors had gone mad, now we just accept the stories as fact. No one is willing to check if they’re true.

I run THE DAYCARE. I have since it’s inception. The apocalypse gifted me with unnaturally long life and a resistance to powers of the children. I have a few helpers. Others who are resistant, but time takes them from me. Here we take care of the sons and daughters and Eldritch horrors of those who rule the Northeast. Here we are immune to the petty squabbling between factions for resources. All factions ensure we are well fed and watered and have other essentials.

The one thing we don’t need is protection. No one dares mess with the children we house. Well, almost no one. Once or twice a generation some dumb fuck from across the mountains gets it in their head they will take out THE DAYCARE and declare war on the Northeast.

The children will enjoy the hunt. They get bored sometimes. Perhaps I can convince them to capture a few of the attackers rather than kill them outright so that some sport may be had in the future....

You run a daycare after the apocalypse. An unspoken rule among the wastelanders says the Daycare is off-limits to all. You raise the children of warlords, chieftains, and nomads.

[angrybasementballoon]

A 2010 Aston Martin Rapide and it’s own garage with better security than my house will have.

Alright pls reblog this and put in the tags what would be the stupid expensive and utterly self indulgent thing you'd have in your house if your were fuckoff mcmansion rich. Mine be a fully maintained indoor lazy river

[angrybasementballoon]

u ever in such a bad mood u feel urself turning evil?

[angrybasementballoon]

He is still smiling three hours later when he rounds the corner with six other kids and half the school following them. He is still smiling as he tells me just what he is going to do with me now that I am wearing the gloves. He is still smiling when he tells me it was he who ratted me out (as if it was a secret, moron). He is still smiling when he tells me the other six kids are people I have wronged over the years (those dumb fucks had it coming). He is still smiling as he throws one, two, three punches. And I just take it.

Because now I’m smiling. I’m smiling as I see his every move before he makes it. I’m smiling as the other six kids circle around me. I’m smiling as I remember the thousands of hours of training with gloves on just like these. I’m smiling because I know they think my super-power is all that I need to protect me. I’m smiling as I break my bully’s jaw with a quick tap. I’m smiling as the other six kids hesitate, but rush me nonetheless. I’m smiling as I absolutely crush them.

The principal and cops are not smiling because they know it’s a clear cut case of self-defense. They are not smiling because aside from a short suspension, there is nothing they can do to me. They are not smiling as I walk out the door.

I am smiling.

The world has taken precautions against super-powered beings, handing out inhibitors if deemed too ‘destructive.’ You sat in the principal’s office with horror etched on your face as a pair of inhibitor gloves were handed to you. The smug grin of your life long bully telling you everything.

[angrybasementballoon]

Bros, hoes, and eldritch horrors. I. Am. Tired. I am so unbelievably tired. I feel it in my bones. All I do is go to work and come home. I barely get myself the essentials and I hardly ever feel like cooking. Video games, jigsaw puzzles, crosswords, these things hold almost no meaning anymore. I have to force myself to do them and I no longer get enjoyment from them. I doom scroll tumblr and reddit and think maybe, just maybe the next post will make me happy. And it doesn’t. I have no friends People just disappoint. I, them and them, me. I’ve tried to reach out, but really, they have no interest in me. I’m a 170lb blob of flesh who’s only usefulness is in my ability to make their lives easier. I hold all the information they will ever need and that is all they need from me. It is all anyone needs from me. Therapy? Where I live that’s $100+ an hour, IF you can get an appointment. Anti-depressants? Have to see a therapist and a doctor for that. Good luck. Trials with hallucinogens? Have to have tried anti-depressants and be seeing a therapist. The system is stacked against us, dear reader and I no longer wish to try and take it on. I give up. One of these days sleep will take me and I will no longer carry this burden. Or be a burden.

Being the protagonist of your story, you feel you have to be the one readers root for, but recently your mental health isn’t doing so good and you don’t want to keep the story up any longer.

[angrybasementballoon]

“Child, what is your name?”

My head spun, wondering where the voice came from. It seemed to take an age to say “Diana”

“Is it really? The Fates, it seems are not without a sense of humor.”

“Where are you?” I ask. “Who are you?”

“I am Artemis and I am all around you, but if you wish to see me, I am here.”

A woman appeared to my left. I now know she was not as young as she looked and her soft eyes did not reflect the seasons she had spent in the forests.

“You, my dear Diana, will not last the night, much less the week. Come with me and be protected.”

“How can I trust you?” I asked.

“You can’t, but neither can you trust the bear right behind you, but in time he can be your friend just as easily as I.”

I spun in place, astonished the bear had snuck up on me.

*****

The bear’s name is unpronounceable in human tongues, but many years with Artemis have taught me the tongues of the animals. He is my companion as I traverse the lands where the animals tell me many things. Who is in the forest, which of my friends is hurt, when a forest is in danger, when a hunter is taking what is not theirs. I make things right where I can and nurture the growth of the forest.

I do not have the same powers as Artemis, but I can feel myself changing. My senses grow more acute everyday; to both the physical and spiritual world. Artemis only smiles sadly as I ask her what is happening. She only replies “What must happen, Diana. What always happens.” I have no idea what this means, but I am certain one day soon I will know.

*****

“It is time, child.”

I haven’t heard that voice in over fifteen years. I am just as stunned to hear it now as I was then. “What do you mean?”

“You are taking my place as goddess of the forest and hunt.”

“You’re dying? But you’re a god!” I am astonished and afraid.

“It is the way of things. And this is not death as humans perceive it. This is the cycle as it is and as it has always been. The gods live on not in one body, but in many. You are me and I am you. This is the way.”

“But who will guide me when I am in need?”

“Look inside, Diana, I am there. I always have been.”

*****

Many years later, a child is stumbling through my forest. Where she has come from, my friends do not know, but it is obvious she will not make it on her own.

I ask her “Child, what is your name?”

Too stunned to speak she finally answers “Bastet”

I reply, “Of course it is.”

An abandoned child is stumbling through the woods, barely surviving. The god of the forest and hunt notices them and after a while can’t bare watching the clumsiness anymore, deciding to train the child.

[angrybasementballoon]

Immune responses in general are crazy. Eosinophils basically go “what if we kill/inflame EVERYTHING in response to this minor inconvenience”.

Fever is a hilarious immune response. Our bodies tell the disease “hey, wanna see which one of us dies of overheating first? No? Too bad.” and honestly they’re not even the winners a decent chunk of the time but it works often enough that we never evolved it away or anything. Fantastic work.