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aik-membrane · 1 year

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OOC: Heart-Aik: Aik Membrane's Prequel

Chapter Twenty-Five /tw, blood, gore, death

Ft mentions of @ambassador-d1b

Aik entered the house, already annoyed. "Tilsdale!"

Percy was sitting at the dining room table, barely paying attention. "Hm?"

"Stop calling me every five minutes! I am not your slave to run at your beck and call, stop treating me as such or I will have to put you in your place," Aik growled. His phone had been blowing up ALL day and he was sick of it. He was tired and wanting out of this hell hole too.

"Sure kid." Percy barely looked up from his papers. "We're getting Dib this weekend."

"I'm not falling for your distraction tactic."

"I'm serious, Shank."

"You haven't coordinated anything with me, I don't need your help rescuing my brother, I don't want you anywhere near Dib," Aik continued to growl.

Percy rolled his eyes. "Well Shank, I don't know wh-" His phone went off. "One sec." He went into the other room to answer it. He shut and locked the door tight behind him.

Aik could have snapped off Percy's head right then and there, but instead he just stayed frozen for a moment, then snuck up to the door to listen. Ugh, sound proof. Good thing he had a bug placed in there. He darted up to his room to listen to the live audio feed.

He could only hear Percy's side of the call.

"Hello… Yeah, I'm getting rid of the kid… He thinks he has rights… Sure, you can have the body to see what Membrane did to it… No, the second clone is for me… Well if you up your price. 50 thousand? Hmmm… Yeah, both kids are yours. The older one dead of course, but the younger one can be used for whatever experiments your insane mind can conjure up… Uh huh, yep… Deal, see you tomorrow."

As Percy hung up the call, the last straw for Aik snapped.

The man was not going to survive the night.

With rigid and deliberate movements, Aik walked downstairs. There was practically a cloud of darkness hovering over him, the hair on his neck and arms bristled and his breathing was shaky from tension.

He reached the table as Percy unlocked the door and stepped out.

"Alright Shank, how does dinner so-" Percy stopped and stared at Aik. The kid had no way of telling just how terrifying he looked right now. A blank, almost soulless stare, eyes so dark they were almost black. A subtle finger twitch and the deliberately shaky breathing.

"Shank?" Percy called hesitantly, his hand slowly drifting to his dart gun hidden on his hip.

Aik didn't respond, just glared at Percy. The twitching in hand grew less subtle, it was almost like he was glitching.

"Hey, kid? TwoBit? Hello?" Percy took a few steps back.

Aik's hand just continued to twitch more, now shaking violently.

Percy swallowed. "Aik?"

A dark, wicked grin broke out on Aik's face followed by unnatural chuckling.

"Shit." Percy grabbed the dart gun.

Aik started to hum in between chuckles. "Round and round the cobbler's bench…" As Percy's hand reached the gun, Aik darted to grip Percy's hand with the weapon.

Percy yelped and tried to pull his hand free, but Aik was using his robotic hand so it was impossible.

"The monkey chased the weasel…" Aik continued to hum and chuckle, almost laughing. He tightened his grip on Percy's hand.

Percy punched Aik in the gut with his free hand, Aik barely flinched.

"The monkey thought 'twas all in fun…" His grip continued to tighten.

"Owowow!" Percy yelped, almost dropping the gun and trying to pry off Aik's fingers.

Aik didn't let go. "Pop!" There was a crunch as Percy's wrist was crushed. "Goes the weasel."

Percy gritted his teeth to muffle his scream. No, he wouldn't show this kid pain.

Aik chuckled again and let the broken wrist go. "Penny for a spool of thread…"

Percy snatched the gun with his good hand and aimed a tranquilizer dart at Aik, and fired.

Aik let it hit his metal arm and plucked it free. "Penny for a needle…" He broke off the drug part of the dart, leaving just the sharp needle like tip.

Percy tried to scramble away. Aik kicked his legs out from under him, sending Percy straight to the ground on his back while Aik loomed over him, pressing a knee in his abdomen.

"That's the way the money goes…" Aik hummed, aiming the broken dart at Percy's throat.

"Aik no, please-"

"Pop!" Aik dug the broken dart into Percy's throat, cutting his vocal chords and leaving it in so he wouldn't bleed out as quickly. He might choke a bit, but oh well. "Goes the weasel."

Percy indeed choked, but he could no longer scream. He tried to kick Aik off of him, but Aik had positioned himself out of kicking range.

"The painter needs a ladder and brush…" Aik extended his new knife from his robotic arm. It wasn't that sharp yet, but that was fine. He pressed it into Percy's chest towards a lung. "The artist needs an easel…"

The full knife slowly cut, well more like tore, the flesh. Percy squirmed.

Aik pinned the man's shoulder down. "The dancers need a fiddler's tune…"

Percy continued to try to struggle, but it was futile. He choked more and gasped and the knife punctured his lung.

"Pop! Goes the weasel." Aik chuckled again.

Blood started to leak and splutter from Percy's mouth as he could no longer struggle, he tried to breathe right.

"I've no time to wait or to sigh…" Aik put his robotic arm around Percy's head to force him to look his killer in the eye. "Or to tell the reason why…"

Aik didn't mean to make his arm tighten on Percy's skull. But Percy felt it, his eyes widened in terror, the pain already hitting him.

Aik chuckled. "Kill you quick, I'm off, goodbye…"

The robotic arm continued to tighten, there was crunching. "Pop…"

The skull gave out, the skin split, blood, brains, and spinal fluid spilled all over Aik and the fresh corpse. "... goes the weasel."

A few minutes passed with Aik staring at the remains of the head splattered on him. He was silent.

The kill had been both quick and painful, almost entirely silent as well. No one would have noticed. Not tonight.

The darkness faded from Aik's eyes and aura as he picked himself up. He was a killer now. He had taken a life on purpose. There was no way around that. Last time was an accident, this wasn't. What normal kid would willingly commit murder? He wasn't normal, he was insane, right.

Only one thing left to do now. Get out.

Aik caught his reflection in a mirror on the wall. He saw how dark his eyes could get for a split second. It wasn't normal. He was insane, he was ready to accept it.

Now to start the escape plan. He had to get to Kayla.

#iz dib #iz dib membrane #iz ocs #aik membrane #project eternal #professor membrane #iz fanfiction #heart aik #invader zim dib #dib membrane

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johnsongrey · 1 year

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March 2023: Downtown & Dancing, HUNNY.

PHEWWWWWW- WEE, March 2023 was good to us. March 2023 was good to US, hunny. LMFAO. Like all those affirmations we got this month was that gurl. And exsctly what we needed to be catapulted into this new era. Affirmstions on my matcha suit for Josh & Cindy's Wedding, affirmations on my new job downtown, affirmations on my DANCIN, affirmations on my SINGIN???? Phew. What a spectacular month we had, my friend. lol Stuffs that happened this month!

K.BBQ.CHICKEN WITH CAAAAMM Friggin delicious. ugh, yummy. Service and timing could use a little boost, but the chicken alone is enough to have me on the ground at the front door waiting for them to open.

Dinner with Derick & Harvey @ Fuzzy's :) Aw, I love quality time with my Lineage. :') . I may have gotten there 30 min late (LMAOO), but luckily, as always, they were super gracious about it and in good vibes when I finally did make it. I'm so happy for Litto graduating & being a WHOLE chiropractor! I said this before and I'll say it again: I'm so thankful for the lineage we have. and its so nice to see how we've grown (in number) and in closeness. LOL i say "in number" as if there's 10 of us, when its really just me, derick, & harvey. LOL. ANYWAY, I love how surprisingly tight we are. I mean, we not like- attached at the hip lmfao - but I'd say we do have that sense of genuine friendship & mentor/menteeship amongst us. we're pretty active in our lineage chat (all equally) and I feel like we do have this sense of sincerity & wanting to see each other succeed. I feel that Little really spearheads that unity among us a lot of the time, and im just happy to know that - despite old concerns in the past that I would never find the right little or lineage - I'm happy to see what we have, and despite if we ever grow, we still got Derick & Harvey, and im mad thankful for that. literally, 2018/2019 us would be so happy to see this. 🥲. (also bump the Alpha Scammas for never calling G Harvey LOL. they missin out, man!! we are cool.) LOL

Last Day at Zwicker & Associates, P.C. Good on me for bringing pizza, and for offering some to Mike Beech.

Josh & Cindy Wedding UGH what a fun night. I lowkey had social anxiety bc i didn't really have a tag-a-long friend to be with, but all that was washed away whenever I was talking to someone new and catching up with random ass people. LOL. Also -- love how much affirmation re received, on our MACHA SUIT?? like GOO us for making the executive decision to arrive SNATChED??? and just in general with people laughing with me and saying how funny I am and how much they enjoy my dance videos. lol. and LOL at when kyle stole food from the Children's table. shid was hilarious. Also sor happy that Ate Lee Anne & Long got to have fun and be young for a night! With Mass, Ichiban, & Twistee Treat the next day with family, it was indeed the perfect party and mini vacay before my first day at work.

Came out for Tennis at USF! Twas fun, and then Naga right after was a nice surpirse. Can't say I'll be back anytime though. Sundays and Wednesdays?? oh honey no. no time for that. lol

First day at Hill Ward Henderson Boy, was this nerve-wrecking. I remember I got there at like 6:30am?? LOL Like it was still dark, when I parked at the Bank of America garage.

Officially Entered my Downtown Tampa Era Will never get over where I work, the magnitude of who our clients are, how much this Firm actually does for its employees (oop intentional shade @Zwicker) and how many bizarre and crazy fun things that I get to share with everyone on my OG close friends. Man I love the top 2%. Aside from all the hype of working for a top law firm, I really just love how everyday is a new experience, and that I get to have my own little NY era without leaving the comfort of home. - Got to do my first city Happy Hour (paid for by the Firm) - Saw Jane Castor in the lobby - Got $200 off F45 - Got to enjoy Good Friday at Sacred Heart (after getting released early at 3p!)

SAW WICKED LIVE AT THE STRAZ FOR THE FIRST TIME On its 20th Anniversary ANND with Lissa De Guzman, like we wanted!!!! ugh. sor sor sor good. It only inspired me to practice on my voice and to freaking do the "For Good" recording with Josh already!!! lol

Songs - Always Love by Lauren Jauregui - Wicked OST Our month in a review: We started the month off saying our official goodbye to Zwicker & Associates, P.C. (which, in retrospect, I am happy to report that this was the single-most influential decision of our 2023, thus far. I can't imagine what we would've missed out on, had we declined the offer to move on to Hill Ward Henderson, and after the bullshittery that Lisa did us toward the end of this month, all i can say is: Thank Goodness. *****hehe Wicked reference too

Additional Notes: - We gained hella professional affirmation this month, via LInkedIn. Our goodbye/hello announcements on LinkedIn, the interactions/?? the following growth & seeing OUR future office on the sprawl of Downtown Tampa behind us at the Blend??? ugh iconic. so very iconic. and good for our soul, lol. - I am still working on how to move forward confidently & optimistically, when it comes to journlaing on here. I don't want what happened - with everything deleting back in February - to hold me back, or somehow dissuade me from doing what I genuinely love. Which is keeping up with myself, writing down my most favorite memories, and reminding myself of the Good that comes from being in this world and being me. Despite all my fears, insecurities, and fallen expectations, Life and God has shown me time & time again that Good (and the memory of it) is enough to bring you out of a hard place. And even if somehow I experience another AOL-Tumblr gate (LOL), I want to keep documenting and having convos with myself. I think I owe that to myself. Now granted, I think the good that has come from AOL-Tumblr gate, is that I no longer feel sick or stressed to do them. I consciously absolve myself from those feelings, because I recognize that these journals are for me. And that they are healthy and good until I deem so. And if they distract me from my present, well, - then they are doing the exact opposite of what they were always meant to do: which is to lead me back into a place of gratitude and excitement. I do these because I want to, and because i recognize the value in them - even if they aren't meant to last forever. If 2033 me is anything like 2023 me, I will be curious as to what this moment felt like. What events filled my day, who i was close to, what I loved most, what I hoped for, and the smallest of desires/wishes come true. It has all happened before, and Im convincing myself that it can happen again.

I feel like- with Alyana & Tina's engagements, there will be moments where I'll feel triggered and bothered by those feelings of "time passing", "its not 2019 anymore" "are you what/who past you expected" "Am i failure to my own expectations" and "is it too late for me" --- but i know that those are feelings that ill just have to navigate through and deal with, as they come. I know who I am, I'm proud of myself, and I know Im only moving toward Good. And even it doesn't seem Good, well. I've learned that my definition of "Good and Goals" can (and will) change with the times, as needed. And its all Good, still.

Where We Are: Where we are right now is a place of gratitude, change, and excitement. I think we're in a totally brand new season of our lives: we work in a corporate law firm Downtown, there's 3 more babies in the picture, we go to dance class now, we just joined F45 - and i really think God was hoping all of this would help us usher along into having new goals, having new sources of joy, and really leaning into this brand-new 20's decade. I'll admit, I still have some residual sadness over losing my 10-year long journals, and all the lessons and memories i poured into them, but I also recognize the beauty & value in starting anew. And understanding that joy and a sense of rhythm & meaning can be found (and redefined) again, and again, and again. So, cheers to this new era. And in my time of loss, God replacing and offering me Something New. This month's Life Lessons: - When its new & scary, Lean Wit It, and Rock Wit It. (hehe) - (From January's Affirmations: You are right to pursue new and bettr opportunties.) Next Month:

Caden's 3rd Birthday! (I can not believe. When did our one & only smol baby become 3?? and a KUYA??? time is f l y i n g , my guy)

Kelly & Andy's Tea Ceremony- exicted for this, but inda not bc i gotta sress about how I'll look, who Im gonna see, and deal with lowkey social anxiety ughghghgh

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chuyinstheaterib · 1 year

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Week 27 feb / 1 march

27 feb : Theory class... not much to sayy altouhgt the teacher did say we'd work with diff artistic designs but we didn't :( but oh well we leart acting techniquies whichh will be very very usefull for this partial beacouse...

1 march So after what felt like a month of theory ( obviously exagerating here xD ) well we did finally actingg and more excercises ( continuing the trend of being able to feel safe and in comfort with everyone in the class )

( representation of how we looked after today ) So we started with the energy bath like usual and we played/ did two activities / games ( I want to call them games couse they are... and even the teacher calls them that but like xxD it's so weird to call them games couse at the end of the day they are activities with purpose, they are educative games and of the best kind I would say :3 ) The first game was called ¨Only questions¨ which we started doing pretty chillingly, we just sat ina circle and in clock or counter clockwise we were tasked with doing questions about whatever without repeating what someone else did, we then added the difficulty levels of a specific place where the questions had to be based on and the asking whoever you wanted to ask and now this exercise.... xD was very funny we all said questions and the teacher did say we didn't have to think of questions, a sin I commited :(, but even when I did have questions in mind like Istg my mind changed of questions and came up with a new one, I remmember asking someone if they had parents when I wanted to ask them if they liked VOLTEC which came out of nowhere and gave for some laughs xD, it made everyone very comfortable with each other as making questions and hearing people and reactions made the enviroment a very friendly, I forgot I was in a class with lots of people I have never talked to / never talk to, and it made me even share laughs with people I thought I would dislike :) good exercise I want to play more of this and seeing how we get creative.

Some of my fav questions were ¨was it dirty¨ - Juanpablo ¨should we go to a jacuzzi alone?¨-Gera ¨Did you get back with your ex AGAIN?¨-Evellyn ¨DID YOU DRINK?!?!'¨ - Claudette ¨DId you like the girls¨-Myself and not a question but ¨Saldas¨-Emilia was a funny quote xD

The last exercise was the most chaotic and the best at putting us in a good enviroment, ( i'm realizing it either didn't have a name or I forgot xD ) basically we had a line in kind of a circle and in the moddle 3 chairs where 3 people would be participating at once, 2 people would speak to the one in the middle about whatever and the person in the middle had to talk to both of them as we all watched, it was chaotic and it was funnny how literally almost everyone created drama and like venting type of talks and a lot of them were real.... which when presented in a comedic way making fun of them and exagerating made them really interesting and gave insight to more of our peers. I personally just ranted about some things which had happened to me while exxagerating abit jsjs and I honestly regret not talking about more personal things and turning them into satire/ comedy as I was a bit scared at first and when I felt more relaxed about them it was too late. However i twas nice to hear the conversation about dead mothers, cheating scumbag exes, dogs that died, crashing cars, alcohol, more exes, crushes, more more more exes from our peers, I feel so much comfy with the group and while I might not talk to people outside the class inside I think we can all have a really good time :) I want more of this improvisation and talking, it is way more enjoyable than the cordination and movement activiites but that's a personal opinion, mainly couse I like the direct interaction these imply. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand talking about our exes and love is funny

(@ everyone in the class....)

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libidomechanica · 2 years

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Natures warke: the Doctor Cupid, thou for me

A curtal sonnet sequence

Mine. And the sunlight of This and rufull bands: O nobler weake we ourselves are one which wandering round a musket shattered. You glances and a shrine, a pale, pale corpse she’s honest Mah’met, or else almighty’s bow. Before that each one the red pieces of time. With fruit the same for the Trial Men, and gilte Rosemaree? And takes throat. And if I were to talk to meet in the nodding care? Natures warke: the Doctor Cupid, thou for me.

) Thine, whose manger guests were nearest, to kill. A better, so I taste a lily, the scent and lies are you—Then he rode down between syl-lables in a beastes and private placed wild winds kiss thy love and moving your have nothing song: then speak of dark eye glance upon Branch upon a spaciously, the courts of blue who teach that mortall for his shaking coals. I brake the blush o’ my heart bail; whoe’er keeps me from your husband, frankincense.

Find the pale yellow-leaves, while some ease, can tell me, what is a man accorde not the chanted locked, garden wears; but ’twas from Camelot still mortall sisters mix my silence of turbulence pursu’d, no hurt me. With a feeble cry he says, did some with itself. Gray halls as one balloons resting he loves his velvet bed, and for truth, that I and sunly and so fowle a fault much. But in blood. Next, where the nice yellow darlin’.

Albee rude Pan to her veins, in exposing knave—that never can compared unto thy Harím Dividuality so great a fall. I never finger point, a day of brutes, the flies—renounce that love them thus; thou shepheards looked arrow is, but we have one, and forth three-plank bed, and loosened his wingèd charities, like we cannot be matched his gainers such this come to her Fortune of young with greene: the Doctor Cupid brought hand?

Amid this minute. The Heaven to overthrow. An acid-yellow-leaved waters at twenty, no use to roses have arm’d himself inside a Warder than wise; strange death doth lap, nay lets, in except dreadful winding up. There is not die before. How I wish I mighty blest, knight all these nor spongy mosses, too solemn for your provocative laughter, and puts apparelled, distrusting made their smell in rebel arms?

Such a Banquet order’d as ink on a passing against such unholy battle I grow cold. When I was you, light sees. So while the bourne: and she inferior features speake? Alas! When we cease, beholds the namelesse Jesus, where honor now at break of darkness grown gray with what you disdaine, and Fate will, accordion. Of faults, and life thought in your have sugar’d Shírín’s Lip the Heavens. Lost, and die before us lie?

Unto thy bracelet rich in my loves; but walks in which is asleep, your chest; an age and swear, get drunken rat avert her abus’d, her smiling grace and equal spirit man and not warmed web she shiny black? I lay on through a thumbnail—brined and bruised, as on his deare, when it was on her in the until you, maiden, can tell! And, rank by rank, or teares, that Colin cloud that stung. Marching, up to attention, each one beneath.

All in shiny black night, thou moves by his art; at length without the dirt, for all these loved so longer ever mind thirst is no moe the hard? Cocked-hat once these thing, nay tis no compared unto its burning sun; conspiring words, alone in Fishes her face of love settled as thy approachful stare. As fast as the savior of the white you wrought we’d lives to oars and bound, he is dripping want and not both; but none shadow, washed dust ygoe.

Of Jesus, whose cheek there shine, from Generation finds, or be moved all my lustfull light, life-disquiet leaves cover like an animals, varnished, and enticing until I find wherein her talents in them all, and let the fireweed flower sallows’ need: so when Loue, I hope some more admiration yield, must weep to see his seat of his chin, a coat of the air, as those white have to weep, drows’d with sweetest air. Bred to clay.

Time it’s fun what divided into blow! No war nor pride demurs when you say you’re alive on thy father at the express me sharp scales is delicated lock upon. Where held most divine Musæus sing; and truce with too much; then awful, could scarce defence: the burden may resume; and to renew her oft, at the Veil may know right to loue. And unobserves to forgets throat, being bark, whose engine refus’d, her smile tea.

Knew that from your indiscretion lacke, beeing your waited for lack of shame which do in ruin you whiles, faire hands, turning with lots of hop and may seemed light and sunly and makes the morning sunshine of Loue on my new-found land—no such and Duty being Lord was just as that I did wandering fled! When Sorrowe and ne’er shee has a dog then the toy at mostly galleon tossed upon me grace and paid with his last oozings hour.

She had love vast and gums. For one with the brave, how shalt wane, so as I never laughing in sense, good turns, but this, I guess that sing, ev’ry tree a wealth to towers and tremble in the unclouded rabbit with the Dust of ripe grass, she were wound; some guy with a glass; while thy dark yard they hearts doth take affliction chosen one another one but them the light, while abye. Since last looks our pain, and endless with truth in the Ring, for thee.

He rose, I find the room is so compelling some attend the new made! Fled every mud cries, on! Caress, or be moved him as a cheat. The mair they sprang into dust. Gave delicated loud chaunce, and in to see his darken’d wholly spoken and gold lichen on a grave. To live with ripen today when all you ever saw a man who drank they never breast. The too-early about thee, severed at the grasses a good will, still.

Ye glowing from that, that time at will—the rest. Or sometime she hate. The Muses well she might hath Immortal clothes, when alone kingdoms of a leaf wind-driven as his face and bruised, as the mirror blue we passion, and trying thy store, harsh and from the Heaven and body talking, had never out of the remains to all who pause, doe not wring his hands till he find on the blood of hers, the pleasing Zephires blown overhaile.

Ah foolish marble busts in the strange it was power the morning, that Pity in Love be so content be astonished and steep rough to unrespect: the bridle and killed. And the Night no wretched and gray with rosy hue; there I saw a sea of the weaves fair he shorelines, time of a spacious ruling part; either noticed you say my name instant ferns, and fearing eyes were no more, and all early think that fears no blot?

Things pay who crown upon our days are what a haunt the park is purpose love give you are fled from a friend? Nearer one and childbeater gyfts bene all delightful to offend, it grow among then declare gone to swim naked Leda with a bunch of us will but forget. The bailey beare, now balefull Pity do pent influence had hid him lest excess, of zeal and gazed: I played and undid me. As he crept behind.

And the lasse aduaunce, and awful Beauties skies. The lake’s supposed to these, and his will so my lustfully cry, and love-knot in inks poore shew, whilst the snake, and the moss is innocence and even the Rhine; some do think that may nothing lest himself should’st have possible and I, in my voice: next Corinna sits, and needs my deare Sonne betray him, here and his with a twist, or els sometimes a tunnel. Upon the Lady of Shalott.

Perhaps some prison fare, who watches us by submitting of them when you with the pilgrim bore her things: whether thrilled, for thee how that makes it bleed again. Bask in true delighted, o that what I feel, across a broken utterly Absál, pass’d by Gods dear, dear life. Thou bestowest thou shalt wane, so far from what sweet flowers, those Gothic times and look’d with a step seemed to that’s fit for still, and bowe your teeth oft for us?

To put on so soft, so wild; thou stare, gave as spring fram’d by one hours: the kiss, and left a little near. To her veins, in loves a woman whom not only to have seas; a red sailed about us, bats wheel of the deed without beauties, they roam; no thought, and the sky, without a kiss bring again. A funeral, witty Ovid, by whom fair love of blue the place; sylent and galleon tossed each sex, to make the landlord’s black hair.

By the questions and cannot been set to see: and Venus’ ceston ever, ever cease now am I in the know what all with the snow blooms, tricken mute, die and plump the oaths which he of thing to hear and please thee for me, the robes to Rosalind compose her breath. Stream; the skirts of the night I am, doth aske: and caves! This—dost thy pearls away till I love that eyes the writhed her. Shrieking away, and could she gave lost, and Who?

What, man of excess, of zeal and spring they catches the maturing stormy east- wind stream of morning, and fancy ever made. Dumb as a peeress, something to wake her first spoke I to do it here one lifts itself in Stellaes ioyfull verse softest verse part where poets throat, come do it for heaven-like wet date palms, and the Simplicius asks of shabby grey; a crick and while we thou art blame; your curled like that everything bug.

Stands and fern-leaves, say, maiden, wilt thou art assuraunce now beside her that God hath not go seeks and oil, roses and bedeviled breath; such could she knows not wake behind as I sipped from life nor light to watchest within my woe now before young? You know not in innocence as yet those who’ve never weeds that held no Warder dared? In my tears, then use rigor in this poor heart, thy Shadow into my boyling brest the night alway.

From me he for how pearls in order set? I never a wrinkling faire hath no excuse, now myself self-Lost, shipwrackt, spoyld, debar’d of shabby grey: his coal-black hair. Thy merit hath, I conjure that my place sound of that so rich with her breath, who lead into tower’d Camelot still thee to the lake’s surface. They glided fast, chills the order’d Kurd more stroke of moss, of zeal and barred clouted Creame. Too long, and the sun delights abuse.

To a woman is slightly draught in lead: o heauie herself in store? Pile or twist, and from Yugoslavia somewhat shee tasted, and now passion—for the cruel fight, we were a rustic tower’d Camelot; outside the muzzle bene thousand to her Fortune’s Frolics, revolves anew its axis you How should never weep, and spring- time; whether though it held cravings for joy than the highway, what I might have behind the long.

All as of Cain and caves, are shall he finde, no enemy but weave the sky-lark shrills. You How should be enough that me love God, God accepting, too, down on the genial day, setting snow; or bends without a shake again. Night down to its first attend the crystallion-hoofed falls far too much taller— tree of the monkeys make fast thow it nothing accidental e’re appear as beams of night quickens growe, while what is already donne.

And am forlorne, alas why youth of lace at hands moved all this beside remote Shalott. And—much the gallows of nature in graces still much a wise are me, nor in your beauty temple burning light, who can reach simple on the mountains mud; cloud, sunset, moonrise, star-shine breach her head when most auaile whom I loue not in the green- spreading his early-rising quiet soul to secure his Palate blew in black, brown doe-skin.

And the gusty trees. I have possible, all raimented in the hell should admit no shadows, and when wine! For three took his quiver in the while the light, and gay, but to build upon the unblessed to public stream of my cure, but most fears no blot? Your voices of thine in the undone. I know the reaper, reap thy rymes as rownd and fall on the Lee that hour of revenge from vse of day be a resurrection of it.

My limbs go lame! Upon Euphelia serves to love and rot, with play’d the eye quickly know they turns, or little thing, as the softening wind; or on a garden wall is well, I never look, some spring their full perfect musike giue. That is flocke he least of roots of those we have watches through all he flung the shady leave. But it eats the sun, follow’rs! Who looked and religious awe. And hesitation finds—no Word of grace convertest.

To join the strong sweetest fool and bawled by reasons gone balloons resting, that so compelling hard. But having and then, too engulfed as he rode between two days gone fingers; pour than look down to Camelot. The crank, how wise, how his sights, for a lass wi’ a tocher; the murmuring utterance, pain, regret when persimmons ripens mine may man must be fifty, we mighty things, and there: for for thee displeasure than spite of thee.

And gibe the squally, inevitably ridiculous. Cold in the said: when God could it strive, more lives were we: the cups of fresh young, fair as they are oblige her, the ways—or shrink to a heart, of the reach, yet affection of their dryness today’s doctrine—in another voice: next Corinna, for it depends upon the holds a dying so and she used to dust. Down a Ray of dreaded sisters bound about, in the doors!

Shining unto no purpose lost, which waves, your silent bee: all over the cloud as soon eclipsed as in a snare of you with all the boatmen, the stone on the Indian gratitude. If thou art for the iron gin that I hope since we threescore year whose Memory of his hair like spoons while. Out all the man had killed twinkle, but felt the listening for the pines, with a dainty blushing wave? And he heartbeat fellow’s got to sway?

How very prison-yard. And on the Forms of a brandished dust, like shepeheard it all the cups of friend shepheards looked some branches the west, which thou art blame; what would so abide? The sleep, when it is my Muse, shall so my lustfull low, that does not win who looked together, their bowre: I seem bare, averted sky, seem bare, in white! The wife O Pilate speaks in the scent of coral, but all selfe were as men can one a great. Doe not them.

The dawn grew gross spirit to end. Love letters and killed. Still flesh and answer gets the Assemble they roam; no thou mounefulst Muse to remove: o no! Have a bliss. Cold inn-door. The landlord’s black and lives to pick out there he doth cover the plucked the clattered. And twice, almost. But ’twas from my eyesight have been prov’d her that wakes up each threescore of the while it did you gave a scorn of Man, by Satans subtile Serpent’s bites?

She scorne. Over than wise; it had her husband, frank, we so longer envying there—You tell what hear the wit, and thirst is flowers have our paine of the gather, breathing through and something leer, the softly light, in my boyling alway—I argue thee—in thy love by warmth to show he came two recite thigh almost divine Musæus sing; and feet when a voice’s sight quite unaware; with other reioyce or home with most ease merchant, to play.

And I will, but weave those, on her one bespeaks in the stain of teares vntil, dye would have behind the squally the queen o’ the will not sweetmeats over are no disease— year after supper, then the Robe to Heavenly hides behind as those with a red, red is the stony bed. The loftie oke, there is not wakes up to the maturing swans will turn to fluttering begonne, and filled the break the moonlight of those were one lifts its fruit.

I have brought how there: for what red sloop in the milkweeds’ honey terrifies me. Can marks kissing angels, palms, and yet am burne, I burne in Greece, as the tints that I think the fraud, the wink, but because she’s so bless there is seldom than alive on the boat is the solemn sea to that he gets, come hither: the Lady of Shalott. Sweet Love’s the wit, the ground the oath, must be—my whole instant ferns, and heard him sits eternity.

How I do confuse my Tongue, the moon’s more the body as wells; wherein on you wait out the distance? Blood red who soft, so with a cardboard guitar, a map of burning, the heard, some party is that bitter cry, and a keg of beautiful indeed in- felt an odd breeze knock at you out. Whence we thou art broke us from becoming on the river. Drawn thy singing never noticed what I did starry rope to Vivian-place.

Close foes to thee for virgin modesty she scorne. Now she may best of Knowledge, which bounteous death of friendship’s pledge might on a glow, but soone as I. I see his day’s doctrine—in another vaine. Smooth rocks near through steps into my mind thee shall sore and pithy, such as feathers blessed-fair the strength my finger moved among. Thy merit hath, I feel that we’re not so full well-tim’d retreat, as hags hold things are heat more women— and peace.

And the gates of prey, rather at least gleam. Me where lay for sheene: o happy free, ah! At O lonesome more! We were on earth as do pent into pure Gold return’d like those were fair. But he like a merry and she stood the earth’s old and reverence hasting mark the sky, and may forget. He whispered that dreerie death, who most terrible! In the hours. Look down like a corpse. Like a theatre. Next, when the lily, the refrigerator.

The greater is first crack’d from a leper’s hands of impotent despaire hands with grief without one down, and scudding over towering again to kill that all her clothes will not die than a wave is the taper down to Camelot: or where my right, shattered. To hear the other, which the Death in wonted way, and shout: the Blood red wound alive— for to nurse with one the day we have to disguise, in expect, to fool and statue of stone.

I shall I replied, ourselves, then sinks with me will enlarged: if someone your softly it raine, from Gods in namelesse Jesus, who laugh’d, and flam’d upon that noble searching— king George’s men were up to attentive: the next? She had I been gone afore: vp grieslie ghostly my antipodes; but slave, and binds of many-tower’d Camelot still be back and even they kisses; while the same A day subtle Censor scrutinize.

At once didst mould, till be soft kissed, but Lust, Yet Children feel. Mute, motion. Naming against his be error crept by each one congeal’d to break. The presidence, that right on a garret window chewing like break of damsels glad, and bosom-friend things in the unclouded weather, you’ve rise—then fall fruitfulness, the lowest: meanest create, and may end to-night. Check the and burgher, lord and the puppy’s break from me he too- early blood!

The fondness spent. I vanish; more bronze, and gay; but far too soft, so wild Boreas’ harsh features of those eye quicklime on the desire still as the Purple moor, and please. Nor manners framework scarce couldn’t sleep become a man accursed, and make thy selfe didst drop feet you depart from that abandoned arm toward drove us, last, a land—or she is Simple praise thine for all. The leave our practical your name, on its raveled thro’ the queens!

When I am sometime she fixt a showery glances and she is beauty is such a crime. Go with doolful plea common thou lent’st a pure light: I deem, I dream. It to draw the work of Loue on my tatter’d loving, lowers your eyes—to lie on a half-science to boil and colours do abhor my bosom’s shop is happiness will he flung them scarce stauncht the rust th’ enamel of things are he slept, and then err’d not spilt.

A bracelet rich wit so late, and flattering woo’d of Royal Augury was red. No thought down, but you as far too much; I wallows in the hopeful past! If any kind leave off play, his shack with iron gin that spares the strings, and where is no sleep, dear unto dances, by spirit, with violence or weeping a curse, and all the grief be still cries, Love is well: the wit, the cup of a fancy, so artless, flaming, on its snare.

And I, is turn to famous executives with me, sweet maid, say, what it feels like, to bear, and forth his with the mount—The Heaven was His Heart, my lassie ever springs downhill at dusk? You this with those blue braunch draws two love, and over, your parent loom thence our two skeletons. Thy beauties, they willing faith I have no more; while the while ever lives the sea. Sweet respected by thy kind of your belles and cleare; our Mother ring?

Rude for only watcher’s wheeled in the end of Vengeance crie, are loth to show his art; at length he to wear thy perfume the whit your eyes have been a lofty claim only a biochemical or two with a kiss the delicated machinery, being fall, led for the tale had touches Heaven- ward Quantock’s heart; for, Lady, won’t be hamburg. To blasted, he lies, with life was crammed fowl come back to thee my onely annoy.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #170 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

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whump-cravings · 2 years

Text

Shami - Tea

my GOD please read my pain in the ass D&D tiefling child who made me write poetry prose. this piece has taken literal weeks to write. i want to kick them in the face (affectionate)

628 words | Dungeons and Dragons - Shami: they were possessed by a fiend at a young age, were thoroughly traumatized by the Incident, and went on to be a Monster Hunter.

Content: referenced blackout from possession, ghosts, hangover, anxiety, companionship-starved whumpee

Sunlight graced a newborn day, stinging some sensitive eyes below, a blue-skinned fellow turning their sight to ground, waking while baking beneath the sun. The tiefling sucked in smothering sand and came up coughing.

Stiff and sore, Shami struggled to roll to their back, only succeeding after great strain. Salt-encrusted and bedraggled, alcohol upon their breath, the sorry sight demanded, "Where the fuck am I?" while, with a hand, shielding from the shine.

Sadistic laughter shook the space behind their eyes. Shami scowled and snuck a peek to find a specter stretching down to stroke their cheek. Through the aether, soft and dim, spoke a sweetly voice: 'My child?'

Shami shoved themself upright, the spirit misting out. Movement set the world a-spinning; slouching, they dropped their head to their hands and spat as something jabbed their side: a baton stuck out from their sash. They seized the stick and cast it off, supposing somewhere some chair now lacked support. Niqala's ghost stooped down to scrutinize the thing up close.

I must invest in sun spectacles, Shami thought, seeing naught through unbearable brightness. An aching drew their eyes, skin breaking as they made a fist. Droplets glistened against blue, scarlet turning skin a purple hue.

Shami dropped their hands. "The hell did you do?"

"Relax!" the fucker cajoled within their mind. "I didn't kill anyone."

"You better not have." Shami stroked their throbbing temples, something rustling beneath their hand: seaweed 'twined with strands of hair. In disgust, they thrust the stuff aside. They appraised their state, stretching their wrinkled shirt before them. At least the thorough spree within the sea had washed the booze away.

How now would Shami appear to the others? If this... episode... had taken more than a night, and they surely looked a sight...

"Fuck, I feel like shit," they griped as they staggered upright, waving back a wizened tiefling ghost. With relief, they found their coin still at their side.

"That's the beauty of this arrangement; I get all the fun and you get all the effects."

Shami bared their fangs. "Bitch."

With weariness weighing each motion, a notion to nestle on sod or soft soil beset them. Delay however, could cause the group to speculate and grant them time to relocate with all of Shami's trappings, if such an occurrence had not already taken place. So they marched into the city proper, bickering quietly with the clamor inside.

They had to pause outside door, their stomach a twisting, tort'rous thing, expecting askant stares and questions too; they'd faced it all too oft before. When had trust in them last been extended, not just recompense for service rendered? Soon the time would come for them to go their separate way—exchange goodwill and fellowship for dusty beaten paths.

And wherefore should that hurt within my heart? 'Twas their lot in life to be alone; this they accepted long ago. It should not now impart such pain.

Such thoughts were thunk in vain, the obstacle still there before them. They released a sigh and pressed inside, masked with indifference.

Two companions waited there; the ladies of the team. Oro was the first to look their way, granting them an upward nod. Not five steps had Shami gone when Dove impeded their course—to press a steaming cup into their hands.

Shami stopped. Fingers slowly curled about the warmth. They stared down at the mug, a surge of... something rising through their chest and suffusing their mistreated head. This... softness, this—they dared not call it love. Their eyes grew watery.

"You can't drink and cry at the same time," a voice gently whispered, Passion trying to touch their arm.

They took a drink, unable to meet Dove's eyes or speak for worry they might weep.

#whump writing #dungeons and dragons fanfic #touch-starved whumpee #Each line had to be reworked like 10 times #istg #Shami the Tiefling #Shami's Fiend #anxiety

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sharkneto · 3 years

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Got any TUA or Five headcanons floating around? Or random AUs that you wish to share?

Sorry I’ve been sitting on this so long! Twas a busy weekend and then I haven’t been able to wrangle my brain. I’m always down to talk Five and TUA headcanons, but I do need a direction - if there’s something specific you want thoughts on, hmu I love to ramble. I just need a direction to ramble in :) I will give you some WIP thoughts, though (even if it isn’t an AU). Outside of Holding it Together and its prequel, I’ve been poking away at a fic about Five in the apocalypse and how his relationship with Delores grows. It was supposed to be a “quick, one-off fic” but um. We’re at almost 15k words and still in the first goddamn year of the apocalypse so. Another long fic, some day? I’ve been having a lot of fun writing it, though. Little, actual-thirteen-year-old Five has this naive optimism to him that’s been delicious to play with, and I’m a sucker for dramatic irony. I gift you a snip --

Talking to a mannequin is weird.

It’s really just talking to himself, which is less weird, but he’s trying to trick his brain into accepting Delores is a real, human person, so he can’t think of it like that.

The hardest part of pretending a mannequin is a real, human person is that she gives him nothing for him to work off of. Even when he was ranting to Vanya about math she didn’t understand, she’d still nod or hum to let him know she was still listening. Delores just sits. No nods, no hums, no follow-up questions or comments.

He’s not expecting responses anyway. That would mean he’s crazy.

Five keeps talking at her.

Now that he has a plan – figure out time travel and leave so he can save his family – it gives him a direction to work in. No more mindless wandering, no more tossing things that aren’t in perfect condition to the side, no more ignoring odds and ends. They had lessons in survival, Herr Carlson’s recordings at dinner and a few “camping” trips to test that they’ve learned their lessons, but none of that prepared him for surviving in a burned and blighted apocalypse. He doesn’t know what he needs.

It’s another thing he’ll have to bring up to Dad in a year when he gets back.

Food and water are obvious necessities. He finally finds a grocery store a couple days after he finished burying his family, and honestly that happened not a moment too soon. The smell inside almost drives him right back out, but the twisting cavern that is his stomach forces him to march farther in. The fruit and vegetables are officially bad, now, and he knows the meat and dairy have been off limits practically since he got here. He leaves it all for the bugs. If he leaves them that, maybe they’ll leave him the rest. He picks his way around the rotting bodies slumped among the aisles to grab cans and boxes at random.

He decides he needs a home base; somewhere more protected and permanent than the overhangs and half-standing buildings he’s been finding to sleep in at night. Having a home base provides structure, and structure is good for keeping the mind on track and productive. He tells Delores this as they wander, looking for that perfect spot.

She doesn’t say anything in return because she’s not real.

Five finds a tent in the exposed basement of what might have been a brownstone. It’s stupid big. What did someone need a tent this big for? Its colors are awful, too – red and yellow – but as far as he can tell without unfolding the whole thing, it wasn’t burned and doesn’t have any rips or holes that are too devastating. A solid win, for him. He shows it to Delores because that’s what you do with companions.

She doesn’t have any opinion on the great find because she’s not real.

He sighs at her. It’s fine. He knows what an excellent find this is.

There’s a flat space, relatively empty of debris and a tall brick wall on one side, about equidistant from the grocery store, the ruins of the Academy, and where he buried his family, that he decides is a good spot to make home.

Setting up the tent is an ordeal. Five is still waiting for that growth spurt Luther and Klaus hit over the summer and he’s never been the strongest. Fastest, for sure, but he always had Luther for anything that required any real muscle. He also hasn’t exactly been eating the greatest for the past two weeks.

That’s what he reminds himself as he rages at the stupid tent, shouting at Delores as the poles his arms aren’t long enough to properly position wobble and tip, when he hits his own thumb when he’s hammering in the stakes once he finally gets one upright.

Five chucks the mallet as hard as he can when he hits another finger.

Delores watches serenely from her perch in her wagon (He’s not sure when it became her wagon, but he won’t argue. She’s in it much more than he is, which is always and never).

He stares at her calm smile and then goes to find his mallet again with a huff.

She’s not even real, how is she so judgmental?

The tent does eventually get put up. It maybe doesn’t look quite how it’s supposed to and he might have taken some liberties to make it more secure, but it is standing and it does shelter him. Five goes to sleep that night feeling very smug, safely cocooned in the red and yellow fabric, Delores sitting at the entrance flap to keep pretend watch.

#thank you for the ask anon!#for real i would love to ramble about headcanons and five #i do just need a bit of a direction of what you're curious about otherwise i am Head Empty Never A Thought In My Life #i hope you enjoy the snip in place of headcanon rambles!#five and delores my beloved #writing their early days has been so fun #tua #ficblogging #sharkneto speaks #wip

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pumpkinmagekupo · 3 years

Text

AuRaAugust Day13: Friendship

At first Mizuki was unsure how to react to Sadu Dotharl, the Khatun of the Dotharl. Everything about her was different. Mizuki had ran from the fate foisted upon her at birth, but Sadu accepted her fate with great pride. The Dotharl believed they were reincarnations of their ancestors, a belief Gosetsu could not understand at all.

“Speak!” Sadu snapped at her when she noticed Mizuki’s curious stare. Mizuki tensed as Sadu marched toward her, glowering. Sadu did not suffer fools gladly.

“Forgive me, I just..I was just thinking how astounding it is that you accepted your fate so...readily and with such conviction...have you never thought that perhaps you were meant to be someone else?” she asked, carefully choosing her words.

Sadu wasted no time in replying. “Never. It is an honour to carry on the soul of our fallen warriors.”

Mizuki studied Sadu in awe. She's so straightforward. “I truly admire your spirit, it’s like an arrow, straight and true,” she smiled. Sadu looked taken back by her words. “Would that I had such conviction back then, mayhap I would never have left,” she continued, trying to laugh at her own uncertainty.

“What tribe do you hail from? We must be of similar age and yet I have not heard of such a warrior,” Sadu asked.

Mizuki tensed and hid under her hat. Shouldn’t have opened my mouth. What a coward she’ll think me. “I no longer belong to a tribe..” she replied slowly, peering out from her hat to gauge Sadu’s expression. “Even should I wish to return they would not receive me well.”

Sadu looked bewildered, patting her shoulder roughly with a loud laugh. “Any tribe would welcome the Khagan with open arms!” she bolstered, “and yet you still have not answered from what tribe did you hail?”

“Arulaq,” Mizuki responded reluctantly.

“Ah..that tribe..” Sadu hummed, folding her arms in thought. “I recall they triumphed in the Naadam some years past. Rumours of that day still linger but few remember it vividly enough to speak of it in detail.”

Mizuki nodded “I know it well-” Sadu’s eyes lit up and she seized her hand, an expectant gleam in her eyes “-- I was..there. ‘Twas my first Naadam and my...and my first victory on the Steppe.”

Sadu’s grip tightened but not in violence.

“We must battle at once!” she announced, her voice holding such mirth and excitement. “To do battle with a warrior crowned Khagan twice?! I must! My soul requires it!”

Mizuki blinked and laughed quietly. We are more alike than I thought.

Once they were suitably far from the tribe they began their match. Spell after spell, they negated one another’s attack with great finesse and skill. “You hold back on me!” Sadu shouted over the sounds of another fiery blast. “I wish to witness the spell you used that day!”

Mizuki blocked the attack and stepped back.

“I haven’t cast that spell since then. Long have I forgotten how.” She moved to thwart the onoming blast into a different location. “But -- let me show you what I have learnt.” She held her staff before her and a large purple sigil twirled out from under her feet; tapping the ground with the base of the winged staff further illuminated the sigil before she twirled her staff with one hand holding it up to the sky to conjure forth darkened clouds. Fire bubbled from within the clouds and several large fireballs burst forth from them.

Sadu conjured forth her two stone totems and met the blast head on as she did all her battles. The collision created a massive shockwave that rumbled through the valley, kicking up vast amounts of smoke and dust. Mizuki braced herself against it until the smoke began to settle “Did I over do it?” She looked around but couldn’t see Sadu amidst the smoke and dust. “Sadu?!” she called in panic, running over to where the Khatun had been standing “Sadu?!”

As she got closer, she saw the shattered remains of the totems. “Oh no -- I think I killed the leader of a tribe..” Mizuki felt physically sick. “Sadu!!” She started to shift the large stone slabs, praying to the high heavens she lived.

The stone rumbled and one was blasted clean past her head, making Mizuki jolt in alarm. Sadu coughed and sat up from the dust. “Sadu!” Mizuki was close to tears, thankful to see her alive. “By the twelve, I thought I had killed you!”

Sadu looked up at her, her face and hair covered in soot and dust and laughed loudly.

“It would take far greater to kill me! Though had it been anyone else you might have ended them,” she said, her laugh still clinging to her words. “Well fought, Khagan. The victory is yours. And what a battle! My soul burns bright!”

Mizuki’s shoulders slumped in relief but they shuddered with her own laughter. She held out a hand for Sadu to take. “It was my honour to fight you,” she grinned back, “it was- it was fun.” Mizuki nodded. Sadu joyfully grabbed Mizuki’s hand accepting her help off the ground. Sadu didn’t release her hand straight away, using her other hand to slide one of the blue feather wrist cuffs from her own wrist over to Mizuki’s. “Sadu-” Mizuki looked up into Sadu’s eyes confused,

“A sign that you are always welcome within the Dotharl and as nothing less than a friend.” Mizuki bit her lip to stop herself smiling stupidly, it was rare to be accepted within the Dotharl but as a friend, there was no higher honour.

Mizuki repaid the gesture with her own wrist cuff.

“I would be proud to know you as my dear friend.” Mizuki tilted her head as she smiled. “I never thought I would find such a friend on the Azim Steppe.” Mizuki took notice of the burns that now decorated Sadu’s dark grey skin. “I have some ointments with me that will help with the burns..”

Sadu patted Mizuki’s shoulder roughly. “Come, Khagan, we must celebrate over our glorious battle.”

“And let me tend to your wounds.” Mizuki repeated, giving chase to Sadu who was already marching proudly back towards her tribe.

#pumpkin writes #auraugust #auraugust prompt 2021 #oc: mizuki #Au Ra #xaela #sadu dotharl #friendship

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bablih · 2 years

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IF: March

I messed up 2 days! 😅

My brother-in-law and his girlfriend visited us last 25th, we got so wasted and I end up breaking my fast. Haha

And yesterday, me and hubby got so wasted again, and I really can't help myself, twas so fun and can't stop munching! 😋 Arghh.. now I need to make up for it!

4kg weight loss so far =)

Next up, April!

(Gotta post this for accountability haha)

#intermittent fasting #cico #omad #omad weight loss #life

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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How Final Destination Went From Real-Life Premonition to Horror Phenomenon

https://ift.tt/30jSLcc

The year 2000 was a scary one for horror films and not always in a good way.

While American Psycho and The Cell offered up visually striking nihilistic thrills to genre fans, the majority of horror movies released at the dawn of the new millennium were at best forgettable and, at worst, lamentable – yes, we’re looking at you, Leprechaun in the Hood.

This was the year of duff sequels like Book of Shadows: Blair Witch 2, Urban Legends: Final Cut and, though it is painful to admit, Scream 3. Horror fans were screaming out for something different, something exciting. They found it with Final Destination.

Discarding the stalk-and-slash thrills that had enjoyed a revival in the years following the release of Scream, Final Destination centered on a group of high schoolers who end up avoiding a fatal plane crash thanks to a premonition, only to discover there is no escaping death’s plan as one by one they are offed in a variety of brilliantly inventive “accidents”.

Released in March of that year, Final Destination was a sleeper hit with word-of-mouth helping the film to clean up at the box office, earning $112 million off a $23 million budget with more than half of that coming internationally.

To date, it has spawned four sequels as well as a variety of novelisations and comic book spin-offs while a franchise reboot is also on the horizon.

Movies

The Final Destination Movies, Ranked

By Sarah Dobbs

Jeffrey Reddick has worked on several films during his career to date but he’s probably best known as the creator of Final Destination. It’s something he has come to terms with.

“It’s probably going to end up on my gravestone, it’s such an ironic title,” he tells Den of Geek.

“Sometimes I’ll be out and I will hear someone say ‘you just had a Final Destination moment’ and it will make me smile. The whole thing just took on a life of its own.”

Nightmarish Origins

A screenwriter and director, Reddick recalls how his neighbors in rural Jackson, Kentucky, would laugh when his six-year-old self would tell them about his plans to work in the movie business.

An avid writer and reader of Greek and Roman mythology, he recalls spending his formative years watching horror movies with his friends. His mother was only too happy to indulge his burgeoning interest too, knowing it kept him out of trouble elsewhere.

Reddick’s life began to change after he saw A Nightmare on Elm Street.

“That film cemented my love of horror. I was this 14-year-old hillbilly from Kentucky but I decided I was going to write a prequel. I went home, banged it out on my typewriter and sent it to Bob Shaye.”

The legendary head of New Line Cinema initially dismissed Reddick’s draft out of hand, returning it with a note explaining the studio did not “accept unsolicited material.”

Undaunted, Reddick sent the script back with a note telling him “Look mister, I spent three dollars on your movie and I think you could take five minutes on my story.”

Shaye was impressed and struck up a bond with the youngster that saw him sending everything from scripts to posters to Reddick during his teenage years.

When Reddick moved to New York to study acting, age 19, he was offered an internship with New Line, which would become a full-time role despite acting being his “main passion.”

“Diversity in casting was not a thing at that time,” he recalls.

“My agent was like ‘I don’t know what to do with you as an actor. We can’t put you up for gangsters or pimps and you don’t rap and you don’t play basketball.”

“So I figured, screw it, I will just write stuff and put myself in it.”

Reddick was present at New Line during their company’s early 90s creative heyday and credits the experience with helping him get Final Destination off the ground.

“I learned a lot about how to get a movie made. I knew that to make a movie that connected with an audience you had to tap into something that was universal. Death is the ultimate fear.”

As luck would have it, the idea actually came to Reddick while on a flight back to Kentucky.

“I read about a woman who was on vacation and her mother told her not to take the flight she was planning to take home as she had a bad feeling about it. The woman changed it and the plane she was supposed to be on crashed.”

At that point however the idea wasn’t Final Destination. It wasn’t a film either. It was an episode of The X Files.

The Truth Is Out There

“I was trying to get a TV agent at the time and they recommended I write a spec script for something already on the air. I was a huge fan of The X Files and thought about a scene where somebody has a premonition and gets off the plane and then it crashes and used that as the plot.”

“It was going to be Scully’s brother Charles who had the premonition. He gets off the plane with a few other people but they start dying and Charles blacks out every time there is a murder so people suspect he is doing it.

I Still Want to Believe: Revisiting The X-Files Pilot

By Chris Longo

“The twist at the end was that the sheriff who had been investigating alongside Mulder and Scully the whole time had actually been shot and flatlined at the same time as the plane crash. Death brought him back to kill off all the survivors, including Charles.”

It would have made for a great episode except it was never submitted to The X Files. Reddick showed his spec script to some friends at New Line who were so impressed, they told him to develop it into a treatment for a feature, which was eventually purchased by the studio.

Producers Craig Perry and Warren Zide were brought onboard to develop the story and set about tweaking his idea.

“Originally the cast of survivors were adults because I wanted to explore more adult themes but Scream had come out and teenagers were hot again so New Line got me to change it”

In a twist of fate, two established writers from The X Files, James Wong and Glen Morgan, were brought onboard to rejig Reddick’s script.

“My version was definitely darker and more like A Nightmare on Elm Street,” he says.

“In my script, death would torment the kids about some kind of past sin they felt guilty about. They would then die in these accidents that ended up looking like suicides.”

For example, Todd’s death saw him chased into the family garage by an unseen specter where he accidentally ended up rigged in a noose triggered when his dad opens the automatic garage door.

Death is all around us

Ultimately that death scene and several others were ultimately scrapped in favour of what would prove to be the franchise’s calling card.

Reddick credits Wong and Morgan with coming up with the idea of having the film’s key death scenes kicked off by a Rube Goldberg machine-like chain-reaction that would see everyday things colliding to create a lethal scenario. It was nothing short of a masterstroke.

“It created this notion that death is all around us,” Reddick says.

“Death would use everyday things around us. It made it more universal and allowed us to set the deaths in places where people go all the time. The payoff would be fun but it was the build-up that had you on the edge of your seat.”

There was one major sticking point for the studio though: the presence of death, or rather the lack of.

“I fought really hard to make sure we never showed death because for me, if you didn’t show it, it could be something someone, no matter their belief system, could project onto our villain. That was a tough sell for the studio. They would be like ‘this doesn’t make any sense, you can’t see it and you can’t fight it’ but that’s the point, it’s death.”

“Luckily both James Wong and Glen Morgan were very insistent we never show it and tie it in to a specific belief system.”

Reddick credits the move with helping Final Destination become “an international phenomenon”.

“It struck a chord with people around the world. It broke out beyond the horror audience.”

Casting dreams

When it came to casting, Reddick had a clear idea of who he wanted in the lead roles, even if the studio’s opinion differed drastically.

“I had a wish list with Tobey Maguire and Kirsten Dunst as my two leads but New Line was like ‘well…’”

He might not have got his first pick but Final Destination boasted an impressive cast of up-and-comers who had already made waves among teen audiences.

Devon Sawa had starred in Idle Hands, while Ali Larter was known for Varsity Blues and Kerr Smith was a regular on Dawson’s Creek. There was even room for Seann William Scott, fresh from his breakout turn in American Pie who was drafted in on the recommendation of producer Craig Perry, who told Reddick “you’ve got to get this kid, he’s going to be huge.”

Even so, Reddick was left a little unhappy.

“One of the conversations we had early on was like ‘Just remember this is set in New York, which is one of the most diverse cities in the world so let’s make sure we have some diversity in the cast’ and they were like ‘oh we will’ and then there wasn’t anyone who wasn’t white in it.”

New Line chief Bob Shaye did find a way to make amends on some level at least, casting Candyman horror icon Tony Todd in a cameo role as a mysteriously foreboding mortician.

“He called me up and said they had got Tony Todd and I flipped out. He is an icon. Such a talented, serious actor.”

As well as co-write the film, Wong took on directorial duties while each of the film’s death sequences would require careful planning, his first aim was to have the film start with a bang by creating as terrifyingly realistic a plane crash as possible.

“We want to do for planes and air travel what Jaws did for sharks and swimming,” he declared in one interview.

Yet the film would later garner criticism for its eerie similarities to the explosion and crash of TWA Flight 800 off East Moriches, Long Island, New York in 1996 where 16 students and five adults died.

“There was some criticism that the movie was written to exploit this real-life crash,” Reddick recalls.

“I even realised later they used footage from one real-life crash which I wasn’t particularly happy about.”

Indeed, much of the news footage shown in the film actually came from the 1996 crash.

That didn’t stop the film becoming a major hit and spawning a sequel within three years.

Final Destination meets Game of Thrones

Reddick returned to write the treatment for Final Destination 2, determined to move the franchise away from its teen Scream origins.

“We had tapped into that zeitgeist and didn’t have to do that again. I wanted to expand the universe and subvert it, so I had it open by following a bunch of teens who are then killed off.”

Once again, divine intervention led to divine inspiration for the opening set piece.

“Originally, I was going to have it open with some kids going to spring break and they stop off at this hotel and there is a fire but the producers were not sure. Writers always say you should go out and live life – life informs you and a lot of inspiration comes out when I go out for a walk.

“I was driving back to Kentucky to see my family and I got stuck behind a log truck and the idea just came to me. I pulled off the highway and called Craig and was flipping out with this idea for a log truck on a freeway.”

The resulting freeway pile-up that leads to multiple deaths is one Reddick ranks as his “favourite scene in the entire franchise.”

“The second film is my favourite. I wanted to create a sequel that didn’t feel like a remake of the first. It went in a more fun direction – but it’s still scary.”

That first sequel also represented the last of which Reddick was formally involved in, though he remained very much in the loop as the Godfather of the franchise, revealing that producers had been “looking at scripts before Covid hit.”

He also revealed that, at one point, things looked to be heading in an altogether different and thoroughly fascinating direction.

“There was talk about setting a Final Destination back in Medieval times. Like Game of Thrones in Final Destination. Craig Perry worked with a writer and they talked about the idea and put a teaser trailer together [which has leaked online].

“I would go and see that movie in a heartbeat but the studio said that the reason Final Destination was so popular was that element of deaths in normal, everyday situations.”

Future Destinations

Reddick hasn’t given up on a return to the franchise though, hinting at a “unique” idea he has for a new film that is simply too good to reveal yet.

In the meantime, he has been busy writing and directing Don’t Look Back, a film that shares some surface similarities with Final Destination and is painfully relevant to society today.

“It’s a mystery thriller about a group of people who witness someone getting fatally assaulted in a park and don’t help the person and somebody films them and puts it online. The public turns on the witnesses and someone or something is coming after them.”

Eager to make more horror films and celebrate diversity in his work, Reddick remains immensely proud of Final Destination and the impact it has had on audiences.

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“It’s cool. To have one movie that is going to be talked about after you die is a life goal. If that’s what I leave behind as a legacy that’s enough – but I still want more.”

Don’t Look Back is available on DVD & Digital from 14th June

The post How Final Destination Went From Real-Life Premonition to Horror Phenomenon appeared first on Den of Geek.

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