ro-vs-usernames

[ro-vs-usernames]

remembering it’s my book and it can be silly if i want it to. freedom.

[ro-vs-usernames]

"We Shall Be Monsters" excerpt/beginning

It had been three months sixteen days thirteen hours since Kem had jumped in the lake and had never come back up. It had been forty eight hours and half of a tense morning since we had wrangled Kem, who had apparently replaced all of their fond memories of us with violent tendencies towards me, back into The Bunker to be imprisoned indefinitely. Which was, for lack of a better term, godfuckterriblescary.

The fateful morning, forty eight hours and half a tense morning ago, I had dragged myself out to the farmer’s market with the rest of the family, Valen, Ovid, and Faust. I remember how atmospheric everything seemed, with the plum-stained sky, and the smells of fire-roasted food and fresh produce, and the sound of bustling creatures eager to take advantage of the bright days while autumn still had them. I took my breakfast of a honeyed apple pastry and smoked meat on a stick–a trite way to manufacture any color into my life at this point, and was just polishing it off when I felt Valen stiffen beside me. I imagined she had just spotted something she wanted to buy, but then she began to haphazardly reach for me to get my attention. I fended off her frantic smacks. 

“What is it?” I demanded. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ovid pale. More cause for concern and confusion–I followed the general direction of where they were looking, and I saw them.

There was no doubt who  it was.

In a land where everyone is put-together and beautiful, we are not. We were kept in an underground lab, experimented on at the hands of the Dark Divine, an alternative life organization and neo- science corporation (CULT!). 

I, for example, am an abomination of science and magic. A halfway person, if you can even call me a person. I was born, that part is imperative, but they stuck me full of clay, electricity, and other dead baby parts. I was a golem, I was a miracle, I was always in pain. Even after I was born, even after I became cognizant enough to remember, the Dark Divine scientists continued their work on me, grafting bits and pieces onto me on a while. Now, I sport a myriad of “quirks”, including but not limited to: fish gills that don’t work, a lilac elbow, an amber lizard’s eye, a tiny nubbins of a tail, scars from stitches and burns all over, a tendency to mashmix my words, being fireproof (I’ll take that one!), and a chronic case of “never look in the mirror” disorder. The Dark Divine called me something else, but the name I’ve been going by these days was Sundry. Valen helped me pick it out, she was always good at those things.

The majority of Valen’s experiments had to deal with the internal. They intended on crafting her to become a perfect strategist, so they poked and prodded at her brain until they realized any more altering would fundamentally kill her. Lower the empathy, raise the empathy. Increase the eyesight–shit now she’s blind. Fix it, give her sensory substitution. A little of this, a little of that. Honestly, I’m proud of how…untampered with she seemed. She looked fairly normal, she functioned fairly normal. She just remembers everything and lost a lot of her quick time reactions.

Faust was in the same room as me. Unlike me, they stuck with a common theme when playing with her genetics. Rounded ears were fused to the sides of her head, a long golden tail hung limply down her back, claws poked out from her fingers–unretractable, but hey, claws are claws. Her pupils oscillated dramatically from slits to black full moons, depending on her mood, the time, and the light. And she always had a penchant for bloody meat, which she gnawed on with delight and her teeth that were slightly sharper than usual. Though she had skin, for the most part, there were slight discolorations in the shape of stripes and spots, like that of a leopard or a tiger, stretched across any bare skin she had. If anyone didn’t know any better, she could have passed for a cat enthusiast. It was only when you spent some time with her did you realize that something was a little off about her construct as a person.

Ovid might have been the most unlucky out of our sorry batch. Some of the alterations may have been easy to conceal, but it was hard to hide the hands he’d been given. They were made of brass, and resembled the raptorial legs of a praying mantis more than they resembled actual limbs. They functioned as a multi-tool, flipping fluidly between their typical pincers to knives, laser pointers, screws, and countless other tools. They replaced his eyes with wide mechanical ones, and his voice-box with a robotic one.  They also made his spine much more flexible than the average person, so he was constantly bending around himself.  He was more creature than person, more machine than creature.

I was the one that had initiated our grand escape, but I couldn’t have done it without Kem. I am speaking from a completely biased perspective, but I had always thought that Kem was the most beautiful out of our batch. If the Dark Divine had made me a golem, Valen a super scientist, Faust a feline, and Ovid an insect, then they made Kem an angel. I remember the moment I first saw them, white petals blooming as  they unfurled their unsteady white wings in the testing room. They were also given small blue feathers dotted along the side of their face, but it was hard to see unless you were right in front of them.

That day in the market, I was not close enough to see those feathers on their face in the marketplace, and they were wearing a cloak to cover their wings,  but there were plenty of other characteristics of Kem’s that I did recognize. The way they walked, the color of their hair, the way their head slowly turned from one side to the other as they scanned their area. I imagine that, if need be,  I would be able to identify their very soul.

It should have been a reunion like the ones in the movies. “Kem!” I called to them. I saw them straighten and search for the source of the noise. I launched myself over to them, the family jogging behind me, then  threw my arms around Kem and held them tightly. “We found you,” I say into their shoulder. They smelled like they always had, there was a comfort in their touch that I had missed dearly. I almost started crying.

Then they pushed me off, roughly. Confused, suspicious, their blue-green eyes raked over me, up and down. After a moment, recognition clouded in, but not in a way that was warm. Not in a way that made it seem like they were as happy to see me as I was to see them.

“Let’s talk,” they said, just as the rest of the family flanked around me.

I can’t believe I was stupid enough to push my trepidation to the side. I nodded, quite eager. “Yeah! Come on.”

Kem grabbed my arm and led me through a small path of the market’s exit. It was empty, slightly chilly from the wet weather. I pressed my back against the wall of the alleyway. Kem paced around in a small circle.

“Kehkirem, where have you been?” I asked. “You know we’ve been looking for every day since you’ve–”

I couldn’t get the rest of the words out. What I mistook for affection revealed its true colors very quickly and very violently. They took my head in their hands, and smashed it against the wall.

[ro-vs-usernames]

"You're losing blood" no I know exactly where it is. The floor. Don't ever underestimate me.

[ro-vs-usernames]

someone sedate this man.

[ro-vs-usernames]

Like Real People Do

“You almost died today.”

She looks up from her phone to stare at me, features pressed together in an expression of slight confusion. Her eyes narrowed in such a way, I was sure that years of suspicion and paranoia were drifting from the depth of her mind and whispering questions in her ears.

“We almost die every week,” she responds carefully. Her gaze awkwardly drops to the floor, and just for a second, I can see how utterly exhausted she is.

It’s happened again. “I mean,” I turn in my chair so my legs are jutting out into the open space of the dining room, “you almost died. Like. To me.” I stand up from my chair, and she instantly mirrors me, standing tall and stiff, like a soldier. I cannot help the pang in my heart, wondering who had conditioned her to do that.

I continue, walking towards her until we meet face-to-face in the living room. “We were trapped in our worst fears, right? I don’t exactly know what I was afraid of, but I know you had something to do with it.”

“You were afraid I’d die.” She said distantly. “Not in the way anybody was expecting. You were afraid of seeing me bleed. You were afraid of me being humanized.”

The memory unfurled before me, terrifying and painful. Seeing her, head bowed passively, tears streaming down her face, while a woman—sharp and imperial—looked upon her with disdain.

I knew after I got out of the dream, I was afraid I’d never be able to look at her the same way again. That every time I looked up to see her face, I’d no longer be able to see the wonderful impossibility that exploded into my life one day and made it a dream. That I’d just see…a broken man. Someone who had no right to hold as much power as she did, and had no right to smile in the face of tribulation. I thought I’d see her as all our enemies did. A dangerous mess.

Yet…I couldn’t. Even currently this evening, I couldn’t see anybody worth derision. The ambient golden light of the lamp softened her features, glittered in her eyes, and highlighted all the eclectic mannerisms that made her perfectly her. She held herself as if she was unsure on how to balance, something was constantly fidgeting, whether it be her fingers tapping or eyes darting around the room, and she always seemed miles away—buried under the mountain of thoughts she couldn’t help thinking. Yes, I saw her in a new light, but not as a dangerous mess, I saw someone who desperately wants to love, but never knew the concept properly. I saw someone worth loving.

The more that I think, the more I realize it was something I had always known. I don’t know why it took such a spectacle to make me see it, but I guess near-death experiences take a toll on one’s psyche.

“Can I kiss you?” I ask hesitantly. She was never a cruel person, but it was still a hefty, nerve wracking request. As I ask, I take a closer step towards her.

She lurches back. A subtle, but agonizing movement. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she says softly.

“Why not?”

She swallows roughly. Her fingers rub against each other in a very agitated nervous habit, and her eyes can’t bring themselves to meet me. “People in near-fatal and emotionally taxing situations tend to bond with the person that experienced the same thing or whoever got them out of the situation. I am afraid this is only the last remaining effects of adrenaline, and it would be a decision you regret when the rush has worn out.”

Poor nervous girl.

“Or,” she tries again to meet my eyes and ducks out at the last second, “or I’m afraid that you see me as some kind of wounded creature. That the only way to…fix me is through idyllic fairytale nonsense.”

“And what if it’s not any of that?”

She flashes a nervous smile. “You wouldn’t really know, now, would you?”

I am faintly aware that we’ve moved back together. Our breathing is asynchronous. Our voices have grown intimately quiet.

I would never force her into anything, but I would be lying if I didn’t admit I couldn’t feel the sensation of disappointment. I nod slightly, about to call it a night when—

“Wait a few nights.”

Now it is my turn to make an expression of confusion. The corner of my mouth pulls slightly, and my head barely tips to the side.

“If you still feel the same then…” she pauses, unable to find the proper words. “Then…I…wouldn’t mind it.”

I knew I would feel the same the next day. I knew I would feel the same a month from now. Impatience, with its mighty claws, twists my intestines into knots and stokes the fires of frustration.

“Please,” I protest, knowing I would listen to her instructions regardless. “It’s not a promise, it’s not a commitment, it’s just…” A feeling. A thank you? A gift?

Somehow, I think she understands the intentions behind it. She nods, lost in the flood of her mind. Every few milliseconds, she looks around, until finally her eyes settle on me, then dart away, then back to me. Piece by piece, she takes me in. Until finally, she comes back closer to me and takes both of my hands into her own. They’re ice cold. I unintentionally shiver.

She leans forward and I lightly tug her closer by the sleeves of her plaid jacket, until she buries her face into the crook of my neck and shoulder. It’s a heavy, solid sensation that sends ripples of electric contentment running through my spine. I wanted to feel her against me forever. She presses her lips against my shoulder and pulls away.

“Good night,” Is all she says, and draws away, out of the room, leaving me alone in the living room, stunned.

[ro-vs-usernames]

2. Rael is Cast Down to Earth

The fall from Heaven was a long one. She remembered burning as she fell through the sky, until she landed somewhere in the mortal world. When she landed, she landed with such force that she created a crater in the field that she landed in. Rael laid there for many moments, becoming accustomed to her new fleshly nature, becoming aware of the new and frightening sensations: Her wings were gone, replaced with the heavy weight of something burning along her back. Her angelic aura, too, was gone, as was her halo. She felt vulnerable and small without these things.

She could not remain in the crater forever, despite how tired and broken she felt, so with a burst of exertion, she forced her trembling arms to push her up. She dragged her body from the crater and that alone was enough to drain all her energy from her. She rested, letting her bottom half dangle from the crater’s edge. The stars looked different from this realm. They were dimmer.

From the crater Rael had crawled out of, she spotted a gas station illuminated with a sickly, greenish glow through the stalks of young corn. After she had gathered enough strength, Rael pushed herself up and stumbled slowly towards the building. Her back screamed in pain and blood ran down her legs. Her muscles tore themselves over again and again.

Once she got to the gas station, she procured a delicate black covering that beckoned the viewer to visit the land of Red Wing, Minnesota. The matching pants were thick and comfortable. Shoes were not necessary. A neon-colored “WIRELESS BLUETOOTH HEADPHONES” was also not necessary, but it reminded Rael of her halo so terribly that she decided to take it as well. It was not totally useless, for upon putting it on her head, she noticed that it helped to block out the more painful buzzing of the mortal plane.

It was to be assumed that though her angelic aura was gone, the last sizzling energy of it was enough to cause a stupor among the current employees of the gas station, for they let Rael walk out without paying for any of the items she had taken. It was easier to believe that that was what happened over a kind miracle. Rael no longer relied on miracles.

From the gas station, she did not know where to go. When angels were banished, the last thing any heavenly host heard from them was their begging. Did they always end up on this earth? Were they wandering around–should Rael be looking for her new brethren?

From the corner of her eye she saw a shadow flicker. She could not worry about that now. What she could worry about was the fact that her legs were trembling again, and it would not be long before she could no longer walk.

So, Rael set on her way.

[ro-vs-usernames]

Help I've written the same story three times over

[ro-vs-usernames]

"not my circus, not my monkeys" = not your problem

"not my circus, but those are my monkeys" = it's only your problem as far as figuring out how to retrieve them without being caught

"my circus, but those aren't my monkeys" = it's your problem until you figure out whose monkeys those are, and after that you make it their problem

"my circus, my monkeys" = this is 100% on you. On the bright side, if you decide you're chill with the shitshow currently happening, nobody can walk in and make you do anything about it.

[ro-vs-usernames]

I love taking my readers on a journey.

Where are we going? I dunno. How fast am I driving? Don't worry about it. Unlock the door? Just put your seatbelt on you'll be fine.

[ro-vs-usernames]

My 1k words a day goal is going great, I've had the pleasure of meeting Sundry, who amuses me so with their unhinged, blunt statements

[ro-vs-usernames]

2025 will be the year of making weird shit

[ro-vs-usernames]

sometimes you need dialogue tags and don't want to use the same four

[ro-vs-usernames]

writing is so simple: you just sit down, open your document, write one sentence, hate it, open tumblr, scroll for an hour, make a post about how hard writing is, and repeat. easy peasy.

[ro-vs-usernames]

fighting the urge to be silly on the page that represents me as a writer

[ro-vs-usernames]

have you written anything in 2025 yet?

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I JUST CAME UP WITH SIXTY NAMES FOR SIXTY SIDE CHARACTERS YOURE BARELY GOING TO SEE IN THE NARRATIVE JUST SO I CAN PUT ONE HAPLESS SOUL IN THE TORTURE BOX WITH TWO RANDOMLY GENERATED SIDE CHARACTERS MY BRAIN IS GOING TO M E L T

[ro-vs-usernames]

Happy New Years! ⭐️

We wanted to give you all a update, all merch items are in production! Book are still being worked on dutifully!

We also wanted to share this ADORABLE charm preview sent from our manu!

We hope you all had a great holiday!