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[ozwrites]

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐓 —— 𝟓/𝟕/𝟐𝟐

cw: blood

“Carnigore! Carnigore! Carnigore!” Trickshot’s chants fill the car as we pull up to the gigantic, neon-lit-up skull sitting in the middle of the desert. There are several things wrong about a giant skull in the middle of the desert. 

A circus tent covers the entirety of it and a million twinkling lights are strung about. It would be pretty if you ignored the blood and viscera that litter the outside. The sign is missing a few bulbs and somehow is also smeared with blood. There is simply no way this place is up to code. Which, while being a very silly thing to concern myself with, I will in fact be concerning myself with.

 A very large woman with an eye patch and studded overalls stands behind the ticket booth looking extremely agitated with the people she’s serving; a shotgun sits directly beside her. Trickshot turns back to me with a massive grin. “Carnigooooore!” I have never seen her more excited and I haven’t decided if that’s more endearing or concerning. 

“Yeah, kiddo! Very cool,” I say wearily. I lean forward to whisper to Alaric. “Should you be bringing her to think kind of place?”

“Don’t worry, she just gets a little overexcited but she knows how to keep it professional.” Which is not the answer I want. 

Trickshot scoffs. “Give me some credit, you guys. I’ll only get one one ride, two maximum, and then it’s straight to business!”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” I say. My words fall on deaf ears; Trickshot and Alaric are already approaching the ticket booth. I should probably tell Alaric that he shouldn’t just leave the car in the middle of the entrance like this but something tells me it will also fall on deaf ears.

[ozwrites]

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒, 𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨

[ozwrites]

fans of characters that hate vulnerability will be like “i cant wait until they cry 😍 cant wait until the weight of their emotions breaks them 😍”

[ozwrites]

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐓 —— 𝟒/𝟑𝟎/𝟐𝟐

cw: dead body, swearing

“Is he dead?” Trickshot asks, nudging the (hopefully) sleeping man with the toe of her boot. After a few moments of no response, she looks up at me. “If he’s dead can I have his holster?”

I sigh. “Let’s maybe try a little harder to wake him up before we start looting his corpse.” And that is a series of words I never thought I would have to say out loud.

“Ha! You called him a corpse!” I try to explain that is the least important part of what I said but she wastes no time after that. Unstrapping the holster from his thigh and fitting it to her own, she strikes a little pose. “See? Doesn’t it look so much better on me?” She studies my unimpressed expression for a moment. “What? It’s not like he was using it!”

“Can’t wait to add grave robbing to my list of unforgivable crimes,” I mutter under my breath. Trickshot pays me very little mind and instead goes back to searching around for a way out. I decide to do the same. Is it because I don’t want to look totally useless in front of a fourteen year old? Maybe. Maybe not. 

I notice a small pad beside the door; it’s definitely an older model fingerprint scanner. Those things were built to last. This one probably still works! “Hey, Trickshot, come look at this.”

She wanders over and tilts her head to the side. “Whose fingerprint do you think it takes?” We both look at each other for a long while before looking over to the uniformed body that sits in the corner. “I mean…he is dressed like an employee.”

“He looks heavy.”

“…All we need is his finger.” 

I stare at her blankly for a moment. “No way. No fucking way.”

[ozwrites]

𝐀 (𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅) 𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

WHAT IS IT, EXACTLY?

so glad you asked, dear reader. the atlas-verse (tentatively named) is a very large collection of superhero novellas written by yours truly. follow the many heroes i have created through their journeys through a vast number of novellas and (perhaps) short stories.

WHAT TO LOOK FORWARD TO?

starting us off in the universe is my newest work: there will be no heroes. it is the first series so far and will have a  total of three novellas. these stories follow spencer norman who while extremely powerful is also deeply ashamed and afraid of her own power. she is forced to confront these feelings when she ends up joining a new, up and coming superhero team: the justice freaks.

the second series planned (and the only other for now) is the sleepless city. it also will include a total of three novellas. this series follows alec norman, older brother of spencer norman, as he moves away from home for the first time. eager to shed his golden boy reputation, he heads to the seediest city around: valentine. he quickly realizes that he just might be in over his head.

IN CONCLUSION

can you tell superhero fiction is my special interest? 

[taglist] @scoutdrafted​ / @wildswrites / @ozwrites / @tiredlittleoldme / @writer-artemis / 

[ozwrites]

in the tags, spoil the ending of your WIP out of context

[ozwrites]

[ozwrites]

Story Structures for your Next WIP

hello, hello. this post will be mostly for my notes. this is something I need in to be reminded of for my business, but it can also be very useful and beneficial for you guys as well.

everything in life has structure and storytelling is no different, so let’s dive right in :)

First off let’s just review what a story structure is :

a story is the backbone of the story, the skeleton if you will. It hold the entire story together.

the structure in which you choose your story will effectively determine how you create drama and depending on the structure you choose it should help you align your story and sequence it with the conflict, climax, and resolution.

1. Freytag's Pyramid

this first story structure i will be talking about was named after 19th century German novelist and playwright.

it is a five point structure that is based off classical Greek tragedies such as Sophocles, Aeschylus and Euripedes.

Freytag's Pyramid structure consists of:

Introduction: the status quo has been established and an inciting incident occurs.

Rise or rising action: the protagonist will search and try to achieve their goal, heightening the stakes,

Climax: the protagonist can no longer go back, the point of no return if you will.

Return or fall: after the climax of the story, tension builds and the story inevitably heads towards...

Catastrophe: the main character has reached their lowest point and their greatest fears have come into fruition.

this structure is used less and less nowadays in modern storytelling mainly due to readers lack of appetite for tragic narratives.

2. The Hero's Journey

the hero's journey is a very well known and popular form of storytelling.

it is very popular in modern stories such as Star Wars, and movies in the MCU.

although the hero's journey was inspired by Joseph Campbell's concept, a Disney executive Christopher Vogler has created a simplified version:

The Ordinary World: The hero's everyday routine and life is established.

The Call of Adventure: the inciting incident.

Refusal of the Call: the hero / protagonist is hesitant or reluctant to take on the challenges.

Meeting the Mentor: the hero meets someone who will help them and prepare them for the dangers ahead.

Crossing the First Threshold: first steps out of the comfort zone are taken.

Tests, Allie, Enemies: new challenges occur, and maybe new friends or enemies.

Approach to the Inmost Cave: hero approaches goal.

The Ordeal: the hero faces their biggest challenge.

Reward (Seizing the Sword): the hero manages to get ahold of what they were after.

The Road Back: they realize that their goal was not the final hurdle, but may have actually caused a bigger problem than before.

Resurrection: a final challenge, testing them on everything they've learned.

Return with the Elixir: after succeeding they return to their old life.

the hero's journey can be applied to any genre of fiction.

3. Three Act Structure:

this structure splits the story into the 'beginning, middle and end' but with in-depth components for each act.

Act 1: Setup:

exposition: the status quo or the ordinary life is established.

inciting incident: an event sets the whole story into motion.

plot point one: the main character decided to take on the challenge head on and she crosses the threshold and the story is now progressing forward.

Act 2: Confrontation:

rising action: the stakes are clearer and the hero has started to become familiar with the new world and begins to encounter enemies, allies and tests.

midpoint: an event that derails the protagonists mission.

plot point two: the hero is tested and fails, and begins to doubt themselves.

Act 3: Resolution:

pre-climax: the hero must chose between acting or failing.

climax: they fights against the antagonist or danger one last time, but will they succeed?

Denouement: loose ends are tied up and the reader discovers the consequences of the climax, and return to ordinary life.

4. Dan Harmon's Story Circle

it surprised me to know the creator of Rick and Morty had their own variation of Campbell's hero's journey.

the benefit of Harmon's approach is that is focuses on the main character's arc.

it makes sense that he has such a successful structure, after all the show has multiple seasons, five or six seasons? i don't know not a fan of the show.

the character is in their comfort zone: also known as the status quo or ordinary life.

they want something: this is a longing and it can be brought forth by an inciting incident.

the character enters and unfamiliar situation: they must take action and do something new to pursue what they want.

adapt to it: of course there are challenges, there is struggle and begin to succeed.

they get what they want: often a false victory.

a heavy price is paid: a realization of what they wanted isn't what they needed.

back to the good old ways: they return to their familiar situation yet with a new truth.

having changed: was it for the better or worse?

i might actually make a operate post going more in depth about dan harmon's story circle.

5. Fichtean Curve:

the fichtean curve places the main character in a series of obstacles in order to achieve their goal.

this structure encourages writers to write a story packed with tension and mini-crises to keep the reader engaged.

The Rising Action

the story must start with an inciting indecent.

then a series of crisis arise.

there are often four crises.

2. The Climax:

3. Falling Action

this type of story telling structure goes very well with flash-back structured story as well as in theatre.

6. Save the Cat Beat Sheet:

this is another variation of a three act structure created by screenwriter Blake Snyder, and is praised widely by champion storytellers.

Structure for Save the Cat is as follows: (the numbers in the brackets are for the number of pages required, assuming you're writing a 110 page screenplay)

Opening Image [1]: The first shot of the film. If you’re starting a novel, this would be an opening paragraph or scene that sucks readers into the world of your story.

Set-up [1-10]. Establishing the ‘ordinary world’ of your protagonist. What does he want? What is he missing out on?

Theme Stated [5]. During the setup, hint at what your story is really about — the truth that your protagonist will discover by the end.

Catalyst [12]. The inciting incident!

Debate [12-25]. The hero refuses the call to adventure. He tries to avoid the conflict before they are forced into action.

Break into Two [25]. The protagonist makes an active choice and the journey begins in earnest.

B Story [30]. A subplot kicks in. Often romantic in nature, the protagonist’s subplot should serve to highlight the theme.

The Promise of the Premise [30-55]. Often called the ‘fun and games’ stage, this is usually a highly entertaining section where the writer delivers the goods. If you promised an exciting detective story, we’d see the detective in action. If you promised a goofy story of people falling in love, let’s go on some charmingly awkward dates.

Midpoint [55]. A plot twist occurs that ups the stakes and makes the hero’s goal harder to achieve — or makes them focus on a new, more important goal.

Bad Guys Close In [55-75]. The tension ratchets up. The hero’s obstacles become greater, his plan falls apart, and he is on the back foot.

All is Lost [75]. The hero hits rock bottom. He loses everything he’s gained so far, and things are looking bleak. The hero is overpowered by the villain; a mentor dies; our lovebirds have an argument and break up.

Dark Night of the Soul [75-85-ish]. Having just lost everything, the hero shambles around the city in a minor-key musical montage before discovering some “new information” that reveals exactly what he needs to do if he wants to take another crack at success. (This new information is often delivered through the B-Story)

Break into Three [85]. Armed with this new information, our protagonist decides to try once more!

Finale [85-110]. The hero confronts the antagonist or whatever the source of the primary conflict is. The truth that eluded him at the start of the story (established in step three and accentuated by the B Story) is now clear, allowing him to resolve their story.

Final Image [110]. A final moment or scene that crystallizes how the character has changed. It’s a reflection, in some way, of the opening image.

(all information regarding the save the cat beat sheet was copy and pasted directly from reedsy!)

7. Seven Point Story Structure:

this structure encourages writers to start with the at the end, with the resolution, and work their way back to the starting point.

this structure is about dramatic changes from beginning to end

The Hook. Draw readers in by explaining the protagonist’s current situation. Their state of being at the beginning of the novel should be in direct contrast to what it will be at the end of the novel.

Plot Point 1. Whether it’s a person, an idea, an inciting incident, or something else — there should be a "Call to Adventure" of sorts that sets the narrative and character development in motion.

Pinch Point 1. Things can’t be all sunshine and roses for your protagonist. Something should go wrong here that applies pressure to the main character, forcing them to step up and solve the problem.

Midpoint. A “Turning Point” wherein the main character changes from a passive force to an active force in the story. Whatever the narrative’s main conflict is, the protagonist decides to start meeting it head-on.

Pinch Point 2. The second pinch point involves another blow to the protagonist — things go even more awry than they did during the first pinch point. This might involve the passing of a mentor, the failure of a plan, the reveal of a traitor, etc.

Plot Point 2. After the calamity of Pinch Point 2, the protagonist learns that they’ve actually had the key to solving the conflict the whole time.

Resolution. The story’s primary conflict is resolved — and the character goes through the final bit of development necessary to transform them from who they were at the start of the novel.

(all information regarding the seven point story structure was copy and pasted directly from reedsy!)

i decided to fit all of them in one post instead of making it a two part post.

i hope you all enjoy this post and feel free to comment or reblog which structure you use the most, or if you have your own you prefer to use! please share with me!

if you find this useful feel free to reblog on instagram and tag me at perpetualstories

Follow my tumblr and instagram for more writing and grammar tips and more!

[ozwrites]

I just want my OTP to derrive meaning from each other in a way that would be incredibly unhealthy and codependent if two people did that in real life but is profoundly poetic and romantic within the context of a fictional piece of media in consuming.

[ozwrites]

𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐈𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

title: there will be no heroes

genre: urban fantasy, superhero fiction 

audience: new adult

pov: first person (occasionally third person)

status: first drafting

content warnings: graphic violence, mild drug use, swearing & mild sexual content.

tropes + themes: found family & family themes in general, the price of being a hero, self-acceptance, first love & good vs evil.

synopsis;

The Normans aren’t normal! On the outside, they may appear as your average nice, suburban family but behind closed doors they’re actually superhumans. Mothers who can fly and lift a hundred times her own body weight, children who can control fire and hear a pin drop a mile away. And they all use those powers for good! Well, most of them do. 

See, Spencer Norman never felt like a superhero. All of her powers seem so dark and evil; she convinced herself a long time ago to keep them hidden from the world. She didn’t need superpowers! She didn’t even want to be a hero! When her brother goes off on some self-discovery quest, her mothers expect her to take his spot. Her great solution to absolutely not wanting to do that is to join up with a different, much lower profile team. 

She finds a girl desperate to start up her own team and joins up with her. At first, not using her powers isn’t all that bad. As tensions rise and a war sits on the horizon, holding back just isn’t going cut it anymore. The real question is: does Spencer have what it takes to be a hero? 

If this world even needs heroes anymore, that is.

cast;

SPENCER NORMAN  ────a young woman with no direction in life. | 20. she/her. aka: umbra.

ALEC NORMAN  ────a child prodigy who is tired. | 23, he/him. aka: cinder.

GWENNETH CULPEPPER  ────someone trying to prove themselves to a ghost. | 21, they/she. aka: ace.

LARS FINCH  ────a boy genius with a heart of gold. | 18, he/him. aka: network.

MAVERICK  ────a little freak with so much love to give. | 20, they/them. aka: fang

[ no taglist yet, ask to be added! ]

[ozwrites]

6, 10 & 7 for the wastelands crew!

6: What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do?

Jack: Definitely brunch! I mean, why would I want to eat breakfast after breakfast. I just don't get it but it's not like I can just say no when someone invites me because that's just rude. I don't do rude.

Alaric: I'm going to have to go with convincing Trickshot not to kill a man. It's like separating sugar and salt.

Trickshot: Part ways with Dog. It's just not responsible to bring a fish to a gunfight. Or so Alaric says.

Vetka: Die. It's harder than you think!

10: Where were you born?  Where did you grow up?  Where do you live now?

Jack: I was born on a little moon in the middle of nowhere. Total snooze fest! I grew up on that same little moon until I (stupidly) decided to join up with TeraTech and now I live in my own personal little hell-prison.

Alaric: What are you, a cop?

Trickshot: How am I supposed to know where I was born? I assume I was born on the same dogshit planet I grew up on which is where I currently reside. Good ole Purgatory!

Vetka: Seems a bit like a personal question, no? Well, to be truthful, I grew up on TeraTech and died on Purgatory. Where I live? Somewhere in that great code in the sky.

7: Who do you look up to?

Jack: My dad. I won't specify which one because I don't really feel like starting that argument up again. What I will say is only one of them bought me a car.

Alaric: Nobody. I'm almost seven feet tall.

Trickshot: Alaric. They're almost seven feet tall.

Vetka: Every woman. I support them in all their triumphs and cruelties!

[ozwrites]

20, 23 and 26 for the world building ask :)

WORLD-BUILDING ASK

20: What sort of slang or swears exist? Rude gestures? What are the levels of vulgarity, and who are the sorts of people to use this language?

Purgatory is not a family friendly place at all but when you see your best friend get their head eaten by a giant raptor, swears become pretty mild. The people of Purgatory have dirty mouths. Most of them don't speak very properly and their speech is littered with slang. There are a multitude of rude gestures but one that is unique to Purgatory is finger guns. If you do finger guns at someone, you are directly telling them that you can/will kill them.

23: What is typically seen as attractive? What natural features and what artificial features? What personality traits?

The bigger the better is the general rule of the wasteland. If you are muscular then you can protect yourself and that is seen as generally attractive. If you are fat then you have somehow managed to find comfort and stability in the wastelands and that is also seen as attractive. If you're both? Whoo boy! Features that show you have fought and survived including (but not limited to): scars, missing limbs, or tattoos that indicate a kill count of some sort. You need a tough personality to be seen as a good prospect on Purgatory. You have to be assertive, cunning or just so charismatic that no one realizes you're none of that other stuff.

26: Is the economy currency based or based on bartering physical goods? What is most valuable? What is least?

They technically have a currency based economy which isn't actually saying much. More often than not, most people don't really want money. Most people want favors in exchange for goods or an item they really want that might be just a little too dangerous to justify getting it themselves. The most valuable thing is a debt. While the people of Purgatory are largely the Worst kind of people, one thing they seem to respect is a debt. If you are indebted to someone, you owe them anything they ask of you. The least valuable thing is probably old tech to the wrong people.

[ozwrites]

THE SPARROWS ; a short little vivji scene from season one!

“You can go, ya’ know.”

Benji stirred, shaking their head as they blinked, trying to regain steadiness that was sorely lost in their minute-long dip into a nap. “What?” They yawned, jaw cracking. A forceful rub at their eyes finally cleared their vision, gaze falling on Vivian across the loft, face lit by the blue-ish glow of her laptop. “I’m sorry?”

“You can go, it’s late,” she said while sitting back in her chair, legs propped on the table so she could pull the laptop into her lap that was just uncomfortable looking enough to make Benji think they both were terribly wrong for still being here. “All I’ve gotta do is finish this asset for my decryption program so that it can self-run if y’all need it and I’m, God forbid, in the field again. So I’ll be done soon, no reason for you to stay any longer.”

They couldn’t deny the temptation of the offer. It wasn’t often that they longed for sleep let alone have their body succumb to it, so used to going and going and going until they eventually dropped and woke a day later to repeat it all, but a mere look over of the loft and the dim glow of a couple of lamps and the faint essence of the city lights peeking in from the window to vaguely light the otherwise dim space was more than they needed to curb that desire. Benji didn’t quite like the idea of leaving her alone, it felt all too like the nights they spent in their apartment, and while they didn’t think their presence to be much, they’d undoubtedly give it to her.

“You’re a good reason to,” they said it as though that was some clear fact. “The loft isn’t the—well—the most attractive place to be alone either, so… I can say you’re stuck with me for the next thirty minutes, give or take.”

Vivian’s shoulders dropped, a slow slack that’d been followed by the softening of her smile which still reached her eyes, a sight they were only privy to for a moment before she turned to face the laptop again. “I’d hardly call that stuck,” whatever stole her attention returned it promptly, as she sat up in the chair and looked to Benji, lips forming something more impish than soft. “I’d also not call that thirty minutes. An hour, maybe. Two at most.”

Benji blinked. “And you said you’d be done soon?” Their voice laughably cracked on that final word. “You lied. If I left you’d be here until t—”

“My soon. I should’ve said my version of soon,” Her words were entwined by a quiet sort of laughter she didn’t lose when she finally stood, carrying the laptop with her. “But if you’re gonna be stubborn and stay, you can also be my rubber duck.”

They pulled their legs in, scooting over to allow her room on the couch, hardly expecting her to make herself comfortable so close—hitting the couch with a sigh and propping her feet up on the coffee table, she leaned into them a little, not enough for the both of them to touch, but enough for Benji to hyperfocus on the sudden warmth at their side. Their body cringed the slightest bit away before their mind registered it, instinct more than anything, hardly used to wanting any sort of touch, even touch so faint it could barely be considered such. They even waited… for the tension to follow, the aching need for distance, but all that met them was a strange release of a breath they were so used to choking on until they could appease that desire and drink down relief.

Oh, they thought, resting back against the couch with their chest surprisingly light as they glanced over to Vivian and, with another breath that made their lungs ache from the old comfort of not having to hold it, became devastatingly at ease; the sort of ease tiredness harbored in and made their body heavier. Vivian wasn’t the type to impose touch despite how instinctive it clearly was and maybe that had some influence on why Benji didn’t mind the thought of it then.

A bit of certainty that nothing would be demanded of them even if it was wanted in some way. Whether it was then, they didn’t know, but they took her up on the offer she’d given; and while far from their nature, they liked it, leaning into her a little.

The only sign that Vivian leaning into them a little heavier wasn’t an absentminded action as she continued to work at a key on the keyboard was the subtle curve of her lips.

“So… Two hours,” Benji started, pulling themself from the repetition of their thoughts. “I’m going to presume that was forgotten and not intentionally omitted?”

Instead of answering, Vivian playfully hushed her, “Shh, that’s not important ‘cause right now you’re my rubber duck. So, listen to this, this specific decryption program is already bare-bones so it can work through my phone without my phone buggin’, like, there’s not much here but I can’t figure out why I’ve written this specific command multiple times and it is still refusin’ to act like the command exists.”

“Oh?” Benji mused, their mind a total blank as to what any of that meant, not like she made it very hard to do more than goad her on; already following a new line of thought about the command as they yawned, admitting a small defeat when they lifted their feet onto the coffee table and didn’t all that hard fight the pull of their eyelids. “How many times?”

“God, don’t even get me started on that, I’ve rewritten it over six times… and I don’t get why it’s doin’ this.” That was all she needed it seemed, continuing on with her focus on the screen as she began rewriting this for perhaps the seventh or eighth time. It set up the soothing type of repetitive Benji favored, nodding and mhming in between her pauses to let her know they were still listening. All the while, their eyes were slipping shut, unintentionally giving in to the exhaustion they’d been avoiding for days.

As subtle as they presumed they were the one time they stirred to mumble something meant to be encouraging, their head rested comfortably on Vivian’s shoulder said otherwise.

It didn’t matter either, really, because the next time they’d wake it’d be with Vivian asleep against them, the laptop set aside despite its persistent glow—a warm, dawn glow creeping in through the window. Still lured by sleep, all they did then was relax back under that clinging tiredness, absolutely unfazed by the morning meeting them.

[ozwrites]

*Watches scenes from my WIP like a tv show on repeat in my head instead of ever writing them down*

[ozwrites]

instead of killing characters off at random for shock value, may i propose a hip new trend: keeping characters alive at random for shock value. by all logic, this character should be dead. there’s no possible explanation for how they continue to shuffle ‘round this mortal coil. maybe we literally saw them die onscreen back in the passe era of shock value deaths. and yet, there they are. alive before our eyeballs.

[ozwrites]

LAY ME DOWN. chapter seven excerpt. 1034 words. edited. featuring: pallas failing horribly at both apologizing AND emotional intimacy after a threat to agnes’s life almost drives her away, and her decision to forgive them anyways. discussion of murder, guilt and self-loathing, mild intimacy, touch revulsion and a relationship dynamic that makes me want to eat raw woodchipping.

[Transcript is under the cut bc this got very, very long]

it’s been ages since i posted something from my very special pet project (that i haven’t touched in like a month) Lay Me Down (aka the ghost story), so i thought i’d treat myself with some self-indulgent Pallas-and-Agnes posting. i haven’t gotten to actually show off their dynamic/how they interact much, which is a shame because it’s kind of the fucked-up little emotional core of the entire story!

TAGLIST (ask to be +/-).  @vellichor-virgo​ @chaotic-queer-disaster​ @doctormoss​ @gerbermatter​ @cactusprincewrites

“I was going to kill you,” it comes out shakier than they ever thought it would. And admitting it out loud makes something sick twist in their gut.

“Oh.” She isn’t shaking, at least there’s that. “I knew that.”

“No I- I mean I wanted to.” They aren’t used to this, this stumbling kind of confession, this laying bare open. It’s so pathetic all they can do is repeat. “I wanted to.”

She turns and there isn’t fear in her eyes, only confusion. “There’s a difference?”

“What?”

“Between wanting and going to?”

“Of course there is!” They scoff. “Gods, you don’t know anything.”

“I’m trying to know things.” She pulls at one of the floppy cushion tassels. “To know you, but you won’t explain. You won’t explain anything.”

And there’s the anger bubbling up again, frustration scraping white hot against their throat. Pallas never needed anything explained to them, didn’t need the calm and quiet and soft places to hide and to be led around by the hand through the smallest of things. They just understood, why couldn’t she be the same? Why couldn’t her brain work correctly, fall in line with the spirals of their own. That’s the way you survived, that’s the way you won.

But she had run just now, she had run from them when she never had before. Not once, not in the woods or the hall or when they came to her bleeding. That felt even more wrong. And what if they couldn’t get her back? What if she never let them close again? She’d never last, she’d fall apart, and (most importantly) she’d do it all completely out of their reach.

They aren’t doing this, not again. They can’t lose anything else, and maybe if they’d just told her why you couldn’t talk about Nina, maybe if they hadn’t jumped so quick to the throat, this wouldn’t be happening. But what else could they do? What else was there? She should know that by now, she should be better.

Or maybe they could explain.

Pallas sighs, and sinks down to the floor next to her. She stiffens, but doesn’t try to run again. Good. Take it a bit at a time. Pallas still can’t bring themselves to look at her, they think their stomach might collapse if they do. 

“That’s… what I’m trying to do,” they have to fight to keep the shaking from their voice. Pathetic. This is truly pathetic, how wobbling and soft and guilty this feeling is. “To explain. Explain that I- I was going to kill you. I wanted to kill you. But not anymore.” 

That makes her turn, and the shock on her face makes Pallas want to claw a hole in their chest, burrow inside it, and never come out. Their hands are clammy, trembling and they can’t even pull themselves together enough to still the breathing and slow the pulse. Agnes looks at them and they force themselves to look back. That blank surprise is all they need to discern what lies underneath.

They look at her, blood pounding in their ears. You did that, you did that to her. 

She looks back. Because you ruin everything you touch, because you can’t look at anything soft without wanting to dig your claws in.

The giltgold wolf's head on one of the fairytale books leers down at them. Monster. Bloodhound.

“Not anymore,” they force all they can into it. If they’re so useless they can only echo their own words then they might as well make good on it. “I promise.”

Agnes turns away again, eyes lingering on the softly flickering lights. “You scared me Pallas, I mean you scare me all the time, but you really scared me. I thought…”

“You thought wrong. I wouldn’t. I won’t.”

The silence seems to stretch into infinity, muffled and choking in this warm, golden light. Crouching here between these rows of children's stories, among these overstuffed cushions, makes them feel far too small and far too young. Seven years old again, hiding with Nina between the stacks, keeping out of the way of the bad things, the scary things. They’re going to be sick.

“Okay.” Finally her arms unclench from around her knees, fingers unfist from the fabric of her sweater. An acceptance, an acquiescence. “Okay.”

Pallas lets out a breath that stops dead in their throat when she leans over and into them, burying her head in their shoulder. Their blood turns to ice, flesh to stone. They don’t dare move, don’t dare breathe. Their vision warps and blurs and they can’t decide whether to throw her off or pull her closer. Because she’s warm and she’s here and they can feel her breath and her heartbeat and the pulse of her blood. So close, so horribly close. They hate it, it’s revolting, they want to rip the skin off their own flesh. They can’t bear to tell her to stop. 

How dare she when she knows how easy it would be. Right here and right now. She wouldn’t even notice when her heart stopped beating, wouldn't even feel the snap of the neck. Pallas is nothing but a cutting edge and she bears her neck as if it’s nothing, as if in this moment Agnes thinks them soft as well, something that could be held. How can she, after everything?

When she reaches for their hand they let her take it, fingers stiff and trembling. When the tears roll down their face they don’t notice them. They are a death mask, they are the farthest away they could possibly be. This is wrong. It’s anathema. It’s too much.

“Violence is the natural order of this world.” The Director said that once when Pallas was thirteen, coated with guilt and blood. She had raked back the hair from their face with a porcelain hand, pulled it and forced them to look in her eyes. They could do the same here, she needs to learn, but maybe it would be best to wait a little while longer.

They squeeze their eyes closed, bury their face in Agnes’s hair. When was the last time they’d slept?

Yes. Just a little while longer can’t hurt.

[ozwrites]

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐓 —— 𝟒/𝟐𝟐/𝟐𝟐

“C’mon, dude! Torr-V! That planet that had the fucking magic people who left behind The Archive and it’s got riches and knowledge beyond anything we’ve ever seen,” he explains like it’s something I was just supposed to know. “I can’t believe you haven’t heard about this!”

 I consider explaining to him the sheer ridiculousness of him saying ‘magic people’ with a straight face or the fact that not everyone spent their entire shift looking up conspiracies on their work computer. I don’t though because once he said riches, I heard everything I needed to hear.

“Dude…we can find it! We can volunteer for the scouting party, sneak away from those losers, find this Archive thingy and then we’ll never even have to come back!” While I am a little angry that Victor waited until now to tell me about this super awesome treasure I wouldn’t leave to go find it all by myself. It has nothing to do with the fact that going alone is scary. Nothing at all, I swear! Victor hums and opens his mouth to reply. 

…So, I’m standing in front of my boss’ office. All by myself. That bastard Victor had somehow managed to convince me that one of us should stay on the station and that someone should be him. Damn me and my agreeable nature! I press my badge to the sensor and the door slides up. Hugo’s office is probably the worst display of ego I have ever seen. It is extremely large, a small staircase leads up to his desk. A black carpet is rolled along the dark wood floors and eight statues of Victor (much taller and much more buff than he is in real life) line the carpet. Four on each side. Sometimes I swear they’re staring at me. At the bottom of the staircase is a large, red ‘X’ where anyone entering must stand. Partly because Hugo doesn’t like anyone too close to him but mostly because it’s where the trap door is.

“Ah, Jack! My humble servant,” Hugo greets, spinning in his chair to face me. He may be smiling now but that smile could mean anything. He smiled before ejecting people into space, he smiled when using people’s hands as golf ball tees, pretty sure I saw him smile when he was at his mother’s funeral. Granted, he’s the one who killed her…by ejecting her into space. Either way, you get my point! He’s literally evil! “Hard at work or hardly working? I hope it’s the latter because I would hate to have to shoot you into space!”

I laugh because the last guy who didn’t ended up in the spike trap.