stillgrows

[stillgrows]

not sure if i mentioned it but i am going to dragoncon at the end of the month and prep for that is why coming back from my year of absence was kinda shit timing on my part. i have so much to do.

[stillgrows]

btw i started the resi 4 remake finally and will be adding luis serra to my roster

[stillgrows]

@ofchiralium sent:

“Genius always looks like insanity first, right?”

That statement gave Heartman some pause, his head tilting thoughtfully as he considered it. "In some ways, I suppose," he answered carefully. He turned to face Higgs then. "But not always. It depends on ones' audience. If you're surrounded by others of a similar mindset, nothing looks like insanity."

He always talked with his hands, and this conversation was no different. "But," and here he held up a finger, "not everyone has the same mindset. Mathematics, for example, are not a strong suit of mine. Frankly, even chemistry and other hard sciences have taken some time to adapt to..." He made an undecisive see-saw gesture with his hand.

"That said, I'm not entirely sure if I'm the target audience for this particular idea of yours." In short: yes, this does look a bit like insanity from where Heartman's standing.

[stillgrows]

So much had happened. Nearly a year of peace had been upturned so abruptly, and only now was the dust finally settling. Only now did Sam's mind feel at all clear.

He'd thought about staying on the Magellan, and he had for a few weeks, but maybe what he really needed was some time alone, some time to pick up the broken pieces and figure out what carrying on was going to look like for him. Tomorrow had gone off to be with Rainy as she finally began to draw closer to giving birth, and Fragile was—

He just wanted to be alone for a little while, without everyone being so visibly worried about him. In some ways they were all walking on eggshells, but he was past that point now. Not that there was a way to get that through to all of them.

He paused at the entrance to his shelter, eyeing the inky handprints suspiciously; there was a paint prickling of his skin beneath his porter suit, but otherwise nothing seemed amiss. If it wasn't for the handprints, he wouldn't have suspected a BT being nearby at all.

Let alone in his shelter.

Sam didn't quite hold his breath, but he made a conscious effort to keep it shallow and quiet as he took slow steps down the steps and into the shelter. At some point, the handprints faded out, but the metronomic rhythm of the otherwise silent record player replaced the sense of unease they brought.

Rounding the corner to view the living area of the shelter, Sam paused, staring at the figure for a moment without saying anything or otherwise reacting at all. "Hey," he said finally, awkwardly, and looked around the place to see the evidence of the cleaning that had been happening.

The room fell silent once more except for the steady sound of the record player, and Sam's gaze fell on Neil once more. "How'd you know how to find this place?" he asked. Probably wasn't the first question he should've asked.

@stillgrows | for sam.

Sam’s shelter was still a mess. At least from the entrance at the top of the stairs, it looked even worse than when he last visited. There was a suspicious addtion: a set of inky handprints trailing lopsidedly down the steps.

What reason would a BT have to be all the way down here? And how did they even get in?

A new set of noises, too; ones that would become apparent as the path was followed.

The record player was on, left playing despite the lack of music. The record was skipping in place again, a metronome. Water splashed distantly—was the sink on?

And there was a voice.

It couldn’t quite be called singing, as it was quiet and tuneless enough to scarcely be a whisper. The kind of cautious and absorbed meandering made simply to fill silence as one completed a task.

“—So I just did me some talk-ing to the sun. And I said I didn't like the way he got things...done…”

The source of the voice would be revealed whenever Sam saw past the threshold.

Neil Vana, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, washing dishes at the sink. Truly, some things needed to be seen to be believed.

And apparently, he hadn’t expected Sam to show up just yet. He suddenly fell silent as his head swiveled to look at Sam, expression caught somewhere between self consciousness and deer in the headlights.

“Oh. Hello?”

The state of the room made it clear what he’d been up to, more or less. The lighting had been switched back to its non-emergency state, much of the trash had been bagged and left to the side of the living space. Lou’s toys had seemingly been left untouched. And Neil had been kind enough to leave any and all tar at the door.

His suit jacket being thrown over the back of one of the dining chairs was another incongruous touch, as if he was saving a space that he was never intended to occupy in the first place.

[stillgrows]

that accidental year-long hiatus has hands but i'll be fighting back tomorrow xoxo

it's been a slow start to getting active again but that's what an accidental year-long hiatus will do to a person. once toast gets all (re)set up and we can write together i think i'll get better about being here with some regularity.

[stillgrows]

ds2 ending canon divergence talk

i have it in tomorrow's notes that she hugs higgs to mirror sam's choice to hug amelie in the first game, but now i'm thinking of a slightly different way of things playing out. mostly because it's difficult to squeeze that hug in there with Giant Baby moments.

so i'm considering giant lou appears, higgs does his singing, but instead of eating higgs (as funny as it was) she very obviously chooses sam despite higgs' singing. unsure of details here. maybe we continue the camp vibes and sam starts playing a softer rendition to counter higgs. (edit: maybe the obvious Choosing Sam is knocking higgs over like those colorful baby blocks. would be cute.)

either way i see most of the ending playing out the same otherwise except maybe after amelie shows up, higgs is still on the ground and sam holds a hand out to him? idk. some part of me likes making it sam's choice again, especially because we see him never really holding a grudge. maybe sam spares him, but once everyone wakes up off the beach and the truth about fragile comes out, etc., it is tomorrow who then hugs higgs, bringing him into the drawbridge fold.

[stillgrows]

@ofchiralium sent:

*Incoming pizza order from: Peter Englert.* My dearest Sam, It’s been a minute, hasn’t it? Now that I am no longer confined to that dreadful, dreary place, I just can’t help but reminisce about old times. Surely you know where this is going. Pizza, of course! It is the only thing I can think of to make amends with yours truly. By now, I’ve heard of your little encounters with the world renowned “pizza chef”. Tell me, did you think of little old me every time you made a delivery for him? My heart aches just thinking about it… Please be as kind as to accept my order from the delivery terminal in his shelter. I look forward to seeing you again at last. Sincerely, Your dearest friend Peter.

As Sam looked over the order and adjusted his backpack straps, a small sound came from his throat, somewhere between amusement and annoyance. "Alright," he said aloud to no one in particular. He was headed that way anyway to deliver some lost cargo he'd picked up along the way.

He was used to hoofing it across the landscape now, but he double-checked the map as he allowed himself another moment's reprieve in the timefall shelter. And then he was off.

———

It would have been a lie to say his mind hadn't wandered to Higgs once, but not when delivering pizza. The bitter irony had occurred to him when he realized that the ghost mechs had taken the chef hostage, using pizza deliveries to disperse weapons throughout the country—at Higgs' command. He'd wondered when leaving that day if that had been a deliberate choice, or just a convenient means to an end.

Not that it mattered now, he guessed.

"Here." He handed the pizza box over to Higgs without any fanfare, prodding him lightly in the arm with it to get his attention. "Still warm."

Just like old times, Sam thought dryly.

He'd made a point of spending more time in the field on deliveries than on the DHV Magellan, giving himself space and something to focus on that didn't feel as pressing as everything on-board did. Tomorrow. Higgs. Fragile.

It wasn't the same need for solitude that had guided him after the inauguration all those long months ago. That was a frozen thing, an avalanche in the icy mountains threatening to bury him; this was nothing more than a cold stream clearing the roiling thoughts from his head.

It made this easier. Not that he trusted Higgs, but he also had no reason not to—for now. Everyone else had eyes on the guy, watching him for any sign of ill-intent, and Sam had never been good at holding onto grudges in the first place. His heart was never really in it.

[stillgrows]

@tomorrowls sent:

( *looking. Starin. ) / sam sam sam :D

Sam returned the gaze with a little smile of acknowledgement and greeting, no more than a little lifting at the corner of his mouth, and continued on his way to his room. But then he paused, lingering awkwardly for a moment, his fingers tensing then relaxing at his side before he took a step back the way he came, pivoting to look at her.

"You doin' alright?" he asked, softly despite his naturally gruff voice. She'd been through a lot; it was hard not to worry about her, no matter how powerful she truly was.

[stillgrows]

Sam took a reflexive step back as she appeared closer to him, his eyes narrowing with visible suspicion. Running into someone who wasn't another porter out here was rare enough, and someone able to move through space like that...

The mention of Higgs began to put the picture together in Sam's mind, and he made a small noise of acknowledgement. "You're with Higgs, huh?" He should've guessed as much; it wasn't like there were a bunch of disparate bands of DOOMS-suffering freaks wandering the country. Although he wasn't entirely sure if DOOMS was the explanation for all her abilities.

His eyes lifted to the sky as his automating hood beeped to signal the lack of timefall and lowered itself. "If you're not here to harm me, what are you here for?" he asked, still wary but begrudgingly grateful for the clearer weather.

She smiles at him and waves before appearing closer towards him. The BTs screeching moving further into the distance as they almost curled into themselves. She looked almost over his shoulder. "A delivery? Hm. You do know you're taking the long way. Here I thought Porters take shortcuts. Or at least they try to. Not actively going through a BT area."

She chuckles softly under her breath. "You're that Sam I keep hearing about. Higgs talks about you non stop sometimes. I was curious in seeing who has him so worked up all the time."

She looks up at the grey skies that poured down. "It's not safe out here you know.. And not to worry. I'm not here to harm you." Her eyes look back to him and his cargo seeing the damage the time fall was causing. She snapped her fingers dispersing it. At least for the time being. "That's better.."

[stillgrows]

There was no shift in his demeanor, but their apparent recognition of him being something Other answered his unspoken question just fine. He smiled an easy smile before taking another sip of his drink, his eyes lingering on theirs just a moment longer before turning to the crowd once more. "Me?" he echoed, a slight sing-song lilt to his voice.

"I like it. Lowered inhibitions, the chaotic hum, all the intricate little threads that makeup interpersonal relationships you almost feel you can see out there." He hummed, then finished his drink with an audible slurp from the straw as it ran dry. He set the glass down on the bar beside him, gaze leaving the crowd only to gesture to the bartender for another.

"Of course, it helps that I like the music." The messy, amateur underground industrial vibe was very pleasant to his ears, and the way these types of bands could never quite pick a genre and stick to it kept things exciting. Who knew humans could still put together sounds that had never been put together before?

He let his gaze slide from the constant motion of the crowd and back to his conversation partner once more. "Daniel, by the way." Another easy smile.

Such places were interesting spots for people-watching, goodness knows that Atieno had seen more than their fair share of such environments over the years. But it was still mildly interesting to see what kind of individuals they would run into - and if the music wasn't too bad, that was even better.

Nothing like mortals trying to do a little something with their time left. Couldn't really blame them.

Atieno had did a little dancing upon their first arrival but at this point had made their way towards the bar, getting a little smooth drink to enjoy as they took in the sights of those around them. It had been a pleasant enough experience watching the people when something alerted them to an interesting individual nearby.

It wasn't hard for Atieno to tell that someone of a formidable nature was nearby and when he spoke to them - Atieno couldn't help but slowly turn their head to look at him.

"Heh. I visit places like this from time to time. It's a little interesting to hear the music, see what the people do. A lot of the same behaviors but.. they have their little habits. " Ati continued to study him though, noticing the braids, the beads - a pleasant look for the form he was using.

"Tell me - what do you think of places like this. Seeing people in such a state.. " there's a tone to their voice, the slightest of curious smiles that implies that they are aware, sensitive to the depth of his presence. They dare not make any assumptions about who he is but they can feel there's so much more to him and encountering that in an individual in their travels is always quite intriguing to them.

[stillgrows]

Sam had been a porter for a long time. Was it half his life at this point? Almost. Being out on ones own, at the mercy of timefall and the BTs and MULEs and—well, everything—, it forced one to develop a sense of things in the surrounding. DOOMS helped, too. As it was, those honed senses prickled the hairs at the nape of Sam's neck as he became acutely aware of the feeling of being watched.

The hood protecting him from the timefall cut into his peripheral vision, and he turned to his right, stopping when his eyes settled on a figure perched on a boulder in the relentless rain. The lack of a protective suit of any kind gave Sam pause, and his grip visibly adjusted on his backpack straps. He opened his mouth as though to say something, then thought better of it, which resulted in him just staring warily at the figure across the space between them, almost expectantly.

@stillgrows // random starter

Death watches from a distance. So this is the one Higgs was always rambling about. Her head tilts, crossing her legs over another sitting on a boulder as he dragged cargo on his back. She swings her legs back and forth as the time fall rained down from the sky.

She holds out a hand and smiles as it dripped from her fingertips. What a lovely day. She thought to herself. That thing he was wearing already covering, protecting him from it. What an interesting device.

[stillgrows]

oh, hold on tight to your pride— it's gonna be a rough, rough ride through this.

[stillgrows]

#TOMORROW   ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ “And there was a booming above you That night, black airplanes flew over the sea. " TOMORROW from DEATH STRANDING (spiritual : @/maqpid ) REBLOG/LIKES ARE WELCOME ; ! Loved since . 03/07/25. ♡

[stillgrows]

if you want answers you’re going to have to find them yourself…

but that pain you nurse

will only get worse.

#OFCHIRALIUM. private & selective roleplay portrayal of Death Stranding's Higgs Monaghan, The Particle of God. a study in childhood trauma, corruption, false idols, righteous fury, revenge, & the acceptance of death. canon compliant with DS1 & canon divergent with DS2.

Resurrected by Bunny. Promo by @tcrrifiesall

[stillgrows]

i really miss writing and need to get back into the groove of it, among other things (namely gaming, working out, and dragoncon prep). my work hours are still 04:00-12:30, so i tend to operate on hours more aligned to when europeans are awake than my fellow unfortunate americans, and lately i've been going to sleep almost immediately after work.

that said, i think i am going to wipe my inbox and drafts of all things from before this months-long hiatus and start fresh. if there is anything you want me to bring back thread-wise, let me know and i'll see about that or revisiting the idea anew. i have plans this weekend that include cosplay construction and my sister coming into town, but ideally i'll do a little writing tomorrow as a break from crafting.

edit: "months-long hiatus," i said, like my last pre-hiatus reply wasn't from almost exactly a year ago

[stillgrows]

He liked places like this—this low buzz of human energy filling in what little space there was between the dark walls, illuminated as they were by ever-shifting neon lights that reflected off glasses held in peoples' hands, not nursed but downed, everyone here for the same reason but apparently so eager to forget it by morning. He smiled a little to himself over the rim of his own glass, lips finding the agave straw (biodegradable! how cute of this place to think something like biodegradable straws would put a dent in humanity's crash-course!) to sip down whatever colorful, fruity monstrosity he'd ordered. It was good in a good-luck-naming-a-single-distinct-flavor kind of way.

Normally he would have thrown himself into the throng, danced his way through the crowd to get closer to the music and the heart of the party that was this concert, but something had caught his attention and had him lingering near the bar. There was a presence here he actually noticed, a frequency that made itself known to him above the dull white noise of humanity.

He leaned back against the bar beside the source, elbows resting casually atop it as he turned his head to look sideways at them. "Come here often?" he asked, clearly amused by his own cliché. He turned his head slightly to watch the performance again, the colorful beads at the ends of his braids clinking delightfully against each other. The question wasn't really the point; it was just to catch their attention. The point was to test their awareness, to see if they could sense the depth of him in return—and, if they could, if they'd show it or not. Either way, well... He'd manage to have fun.

@the27percent

[stillgrows]

hi friends. i made a personal over at @nyrlthtp and will be lurking on there until i get the wherewithal to write again.