#At least she wasn’t the one to comment multiple times on how cute the trolls looked while imprisoned

[mousequill]

My thoughts/head cannons on Velvet and Veneer

On Veneer: I personally believe that Veneer’s sympathy stems from his goldfish he used to have. Here’s how I think it went down. Veneer, like any other little kid, probably begged his parents for a pet dog or something but his parents thought that was too much responsibility so they gave him a fish instead. Veneer might have been bitter about this, because c’mon now, that’s a boring fish and Veneer probably wanted his pet to be more entertaining (referring to his pet monkey). So he might have halfheartedly taken care of it and slowly over time he might have even grown a small bond with it but again, Veneer is a little kid and I doubt he did any research on how to properly take care of a fish (the fish probably lived in a small glass bowl with no enrichment) and of course, the fish dies despite Veneer now giving it slightly more attention. This makes Veneer guilty of course but he moves on because in the end of the day, it’s just a fish. Then much later on Floyd comes along, not in a glass bowl but similar, and this time his new ‘pet’ can actually talk to him. I personally see it as Veneer viewing Floyd as something akin to an entertaining talking hamster or something or the sort. So forming a bond with Floyd becomes a lot easier than his fish. And then Floyd begins to lose his color (much like how fish do when close to dying) and that same guilt begins to creep up on him, because internally wether he realizes or not, he sees his goldfish in Floyd, leading to him eventually helping out Floyd.

Tldr: Veneer feels guilty about killing his pet goldfish so he makes up for it by helping Floyd.

On Velvet: People need to stop making her out to be this sadistic abusive monster. She’s literally just a bratty teen diva, and arguably, also suffering from addiction from not only the fame going to her head but also actual addiction lowkey. Like, I can’t be the only one that noticed how agitated and on edge she sounded before giving herself a few doses of essence and her voice immediately going soft and relaxed. Additionally, just because she’s the stronger voice out of the two twins doesn’t mean she’s abusive to Veneer, y’all need to chill with that. Speaking of loud voices, I’m also seeing the theory that Veneer actually has talent but acts like he doesn’t to keep his sister happy, and like, I get it, considering his speaking va and his singing va are the same and he doesn’t dose himself as much as Velvet, but I think that’s simply because he doesn’t NEED his voice to be as strong as Velvet’s, he’s just the backing vocals, so of course he’s not gonna dose himself as much as her. Lastly, Velvet is a good sister to Veneer and I say this on the basis that Velvet was happy to perform with her brother at all times. She could have done a solo career and hogged all the fame and glory for herself but she didn’t. The fact that Veneer actually sassed Velvet back in two scenes (“Our parents were dentists 🙄” “Why do I have to do it 🤨” tells me that he’s not afraid of to talk back to her like some of you are making him seem out to be). Velvet loves her brother obviously, but being famous, being remembered forever, that was her DREAM, not Veneer’s, so of course she went a little aggressive with it towards the end.

Tldr: Velvet is actually a good sister and a normal teen girl acting her age.

[danetobelieve]

Don’t Be So Shellfish || Deirdre and Winston

Midday jogs weren’t Deirdre’s first idea for a fun day, her first idea involved a glass of wine and watching the guy down the street have a stroke. But she was growing too comfortable, too drawn to the macabre--having conversations she shouldn’t, sticking around in places she really couldn’t be seen. In the end, a jog to clear her mind and pick up a few fresh bones was a better idea. It wasn’t her first idea for a fun day, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t make it fun. Jogging down some street she hadn’t bothered to double check the name of ( being new to White Crest, she probably should have been more careful, but Deirdre was nothing if not confident ) she spotted a car pulled over to the side. And really, car was putting it generously. It looked more like a piece of metal begging to explode at some point. If she could scream for cars, she figured she probably would have for the poor thing. “Let it die,” she commented with a laugh, jogging up to the kid she presumed to be the owner, “that thing looks like crumpled piece of paper had sex with roll of aluminum foil and then got ran over by a bigger, nicer looking, car. Let it die, kid. Call a cab.”

As they felt the wheel begin to have it’s tell tale shake, Winston couldn’t help but swear multiple times. As the sentence got on in length it became more and more colourful with each passing moment. Pulling over to the side of the road, Winston’s car filled with the acrid smell of burning rubber. The 90s buick that they were still driving almost 30 years later had definitely seen better days, but Winston wasn’t about to let it go to car purgatory, aka, the scrap yard, without a fight. Pulling it over to the side of the road, they stepped out of their car and popped the hood. What happened next was annoying. A snide comment from an unnecessarily good looking jogger didn’t help their confidence. “H-hey!” they stammered, “This at least looks like a piece of scrap aluminum foil had sex with another piece of aluminum foil and then was run over by another car.” They weren’t in denial about the fact that they didn’t have the coolest car ever. 

“No, it looks like a bunch of nicer cars got together and tried to think of what the ugliest car would look like and then created yours in a dark pit somewhere in Kansas, which is where I imagine all the darkest pits to be.” Deirdre leaned over, trying to peer into the hood as though she knew anything about cars, as though she even planned to help. She didn’t feel bad for them, there had to be a point when you accepted that a piece-of-junk car was exactly that, a piece of junk. Humans always did try to hold onto things that should have died long ago--like mom jeans. This was, however, very amusing to watch. If only she had popcorn in the pockets of her jacket instead of bones. “Oh! You should try poking the engine, maybe that’ll work. Oh, I know, take the gasoline out and drink it. I hear it has magical properties.” She snickered, her laughter only cutting short at the sound of sharp crunching in the woods beyond them. Well, that was probably fine; things crunched in woods. Things crunched all the time. She could crunch this kid if she wanted to. “So I’m assuming you don’t plan on letting it go?”  

“Well, it’s still an achievement to have a car from the darkest pits of Kansas,” Winston replied with a shrug, they dealt with internet trolls on a daily basis and they’d worked in Took’s General Store for enough years to know when someone was just being mean for the sake of it. “I hate to break it to you,” Winston said as they popped the hood on their apparently frankenstein-esque car and was met with a face full of acrid smoke, coughing they fanned their hand in front of their face before replying, “but teasing someone half your age doesn’t make you cooler. Besides, you’re what, 50?”  They were on the way to the mechanic but it was pretty clear to Winston that they didn’t need to worry too much, there car just appeared to have overheated. They weren’t a mechanic, but they understood the rough theory. “I think it just over heated, should be fine soon.”

“You really think I look 50?” Deirdre perked up, a smile of pride on her face. Vaguely, she did understand that to humans, that was supposed to be an insult. However, years of insecurity wrought from being the youngest in her family made her blind to the actual meaning. She hummed as she watched the kid work, caught up in her own head. “Hm, don’t overheated cars explode?” Feeling a rare sense of pity surge in her, she began to reach for her phone to call before the crunching grew louder. “Do you hear that?” Through the trees, as if spurred by dramatic timing, a claw came down and raked the edge of the kid’s car, another claw poised at the ready as the creature moved into the light. “I’ve always liked lobster.” And the creature was as lobster-like as they came, but large. Far too large; roughly the size of the mangled car. There was a joke to be made about pincher and crusher claws here, but Deirdre couldn’t think of it. The creature’s antennae twitched. Deirdre couldn't figure out where its eyes were, her own lost in staring at parts of dark carapace that surrounded a monstrous body. But she guessed it was looking at them. “Hm, are you feeling hungry now, or is that just me?” She turned to the kid as the creature snipped a claw--the pincher--in the air, “oh and you probably want to get that thing running now.”

“Maybe 45 at a push,” Winston shrugged, “you’re definitely just old.” They had promised themselves they’d stop calling people boomers. It was cliche and beneath them. But they were really having to take some time to restrain themselves here. “Do they?” Winston asked with a shrug, “I certainly hope not.” They shrugged and moved away from their car, pulling a bottle of water from their car they took a drink of the water but didn’t offer Deirdre any. Pausing, they were about to ask her what she was talking about when they saw a claw scratch down the side of their car. Sparks flew from the hard shell of the claw as it made contact with the metal of the car. “Is that … is that …?” Winston suddenly forgot anything funny they had ever had to say. “Is that a fucking giant lobster? What the actual fuck is wrong with this town? Why the fuck does weird shit like this happen all the goddamn time? For one day, I just want to drive around without some weird shit happening…” they trailed off as the Lobster started to move their way. “I am not hungry, and what gave it away that running would be a good idea?” they asked as they began sprinting away for the third time this week.

“Why, thank you!” Deirdre beamed, it wasn’t a compliment she expected to get from the poor car owner, but it was one she’d take. Perhaps it was their compliment that put her in a good mood, or perhaps the simple sight of watching their car fight them at every step, but she found herself at least a little inclined to help. Of course, there was a giant lobster that had different plans for them. “Now, I think it adds character to an otherwise dreary town,” she commented, running alongside the kid with ease. She was thankful, then, that she was already in her jogging gear. “This is interesting,” she spoke between the sound of her sneakers hitting the pavement, “I don’t think lobsters like eating people. I imagine that clams and crabs taste better than we do.” But this was also a giant lobster, and maybe that meant something different. She glanced behind them, the lobster scuttering behind them on its legs, claws snapping. The knowledge neither of them were going to die kept her calm, though a lackadaisical outlook might have contributed to that too. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about giant lobsters, would you?”

Bewildered, Winston looked at her confused. “You’re welcome? I guess?” Winston wasn’t really thinking about the compliments that they were or weren’t giving to complete strangers who had more or less bullied them for their own misfortune. They could already feel their chest get slightly tight from all of the exertion, but they weren’t about to slow down. Not when there was something with giant claws that had left massive claw marks in their car! “Character is a good lobster roll from a good pop up food stand on a wharf, character is a quirky bar with fishing nets strung up to the ceiling overlooking the ocean! Character is not a giant lobster trying to cut me and my car in half with it’s claws!?” How was this woman keeping up with them with such ease? Was she even breaking a sweat? How did her hair stay so perfectly in a pony tail? Winston imagined that in comparison they must have looked like a sweaty mess. Not to mention that they were sure their heart would leap out of their chest at any moment. “Terrifying is more the word I would use to describe this,” Winston retorted as they vaulted a rock that someone had carelessly left outside in their way and kept running the best they could, though they could feel themselves slowing down.” Looking at this weirdo in disbelief, Winston honestly felt their jaw slacken slightly. “Are you … why are you complete… you’re insane? Right? Of course I don’t know ANYTHING about GIANT LOBSTERS! I DIDN’T KNOW THEY EXISTED UNTIL A MINUTE AGO YOU PSYCHOPATH!?!?!”

The stranger’s bewilderment was amusing. So much so that Deirdre laughed, and then felt compelled to introduce herself in the midst of their yelling. “I’m Deridre,” she said matter-of-factly. Watching sweat drip down their face and listen to the panic in their voice suddenly made a jog she didn’t want to take all the more worthwhile. She continued running with practiced ease, the lack of terror making it easier to control her breathing with each step. “I don’t know, the lobster is kind of cute. You’re kind of cute,” if they weren’t running, she would have reached over and pinched their cheek. Humans could be so cute when they were worried; if only they knew they weren’t going to die. She could have told them, but if they had trouble processing a large lobster, she didn’t think they’d take the knowledge of her precognition any better. “No need to yell,” she hopped over pieces of rock and the odd strewn branch dexterously, “there are such a thing as people who know about creatures that are more than---are you getting tired already?” She blinked at them, “I--we haven’t even been running for more than a couple of minutes. Maybe if you stopped yelling, you’d have more stamina. Look, repeat after me; breathe in, breathe out--” she glanced behind her, then forward again, “breathe in, don’t think about how the lobster is snipping its claws, breathe out, don’t worry about how it’s right on your heels, breathe in---” one of the bones in her pocket tumbled out, clattering to the asphalt and rolling away behind them. “--try not to think about that either.”

“Deirdre?” Winston asked, suddenly convinced that they didn’t have the most interesting first name in a conversation for once, “I’m Winston.” Looking at them with a mixture of disbelief and horror, Winston shook their head. “Now is not the time to tell me I’m cute! Now is the time to suggest some clever way out of this as you’re obviously being smug and superior as if you knew that giant lobsters were a thing.” Which seemed a touch strange. Winston honestly wasn’t sure that they weren’t having a nervous breakdown and imagining all of this, what with the week that they were having. They reached up and wiped the sweat from their brow before reaching into their jeans and fishing out their inhaler. Shaking it haphazardly as they run, they struggled to bring it up to their lips and managed to inhale most of a spray of ventolin. “Listen, I know you think you’re really funny, but I’m asthamatic, so it isn’t just like I’m unfit or anything,” which was true, but entirely besides the point, “if this were gym class I’d have a note excusing me for a break should I need one.” Perhaps if they hadn’t taken so many breaks during gym they’d have managed to avoid this problem. “Why are you not terrified that this thing is trying to kill us?” They had been running along the coast, and as the path turned away from the path, they found themselves heading towards a small hill. Winston wasn’t stupid, high ground would be good. They weren’t sure why, but Obi-Wan hadn’t screamed about it and then cut his old padawan in half without some kind of advantage.

“Nice to meet you, Winston. You seem a little panicked for your age. You’ll get wrinkly young like that,” she trailed off, “oh, I didn’t know about giant lobsters specifically but there might as well be giant lobsters, yeah?” Deirdre glanced behind her again, for a moment, the creature paused to look over the bone--clearly more interested in that than the two of them. It was a moment she used to look around them. Between Winston’s inhaler and the coastline, it didn’t seem like there was any place they could really run. Until the hill drew into sight and an idea sprouted in Deirdre’s head. “If a giant lobster is what kills me, then I deserve to die. But it won’t and you know why?” Because she was a banshee that could sense that sort of thing. “Because I’m too pretty to be killed by something as ugly as that and you’re not going to die either and you know why?” Because she was a banshee that could sense that sort of thing. “Because you’re going to climb up that hill there and I’m going to throw my bones in the water.” And she meant that literally as she pulled out the bones she’d spent all morning collecting, trying to grip them in her hands as they ran and the lobster sped up. “I feel like we’re really bonding here, Winston.” She began throwing bones as hard as she could while flat terrain turned upward, and a hill held under their feet. As she suspected, the lobster was far more interested in what she was throwing than chasing after the two of them, but she kept running and throwing. 

“It might be nicer to meet you, Deirdre, if it were under different circumstances, although I've got to be honest that the lack of wrinkles I have aren’t really what concerns me, I am more concerned with the possibility of premature decapitation,” Winston really wasn’t having a good week, or maybe it was a good month now. This year had already turned weird. “Why?” Winston asked perplexed with how pleased Deirdre seemed with this situation. Honestly in all of the panic they hadn’t even noticed the bone falling out, but they weren’t stupid and they were able to realise where it had come from. But they were clearly distracted and Winston took the opportunity to take another long puff of their inhaler and do their best to get their breath back while still trying to keep a good distance between them.  “I appreciate your candid point of view, but why do you have bon-” pausing, Winston looked at her and shook their head, “I’m not even going to bother to ask why you have a pocket full of bones, and whilst I don’t doubt that this will definitely work out perfectly, I’m going to need to get up that hill as fast as possible, so by all means try and distract this giant invertebrate. “This is weird, I wasn’t expecting to bond with someone over … well this. But I guess I’ve got to say thanks, y’know, for saving my life and shit.” Pausing for a second, Winston began the arduous climb up the hill. “You seem way to at ease with all of this…” they said, using the bottom of their t-shirt to wipe sweat away as the giant lobster headed in the opposite direction. 

Bones. Deirdre liked bones. She had less bones now. Humans. Deirdre didn’t like humans. Yet she was down some bones and up a human. The trade off didn’t seem right. She glanced at Winston, sweaty and foolishly grateful for a life she didn’t save. “I’ve seen worse things than a giant mutated lobster...my neighbor has a very ugly house, for example.” She paused, mulling the situation over. The lobster had gone after the bones, and then faded out of sight somewhere. Now it was someone else’s problem. The kid though, frazzled and out of breath, was somehow hers. Humans weren’t supposed to be her problem but...well, she wasn’t completely heartless. “Come on, sweaty child, I’ll buy you some lunch.”

“How do you equate a giant mutated lobster with a very … ugly … house?” Winston couldn’t deal with this Deirdre person. She was wacky off the charts, carrying bones around in her pocket and apparently completely unconcerned that there was a very real possibility that they lived in a world which had things in it that would be more or less constantly trying to kill them. “How is an ugly house worse then a lobster?” These were questions that Winston heavily doubted they would get answers for. Wiping more sweat from their brow with the bottom of their t-shirt, Winston adjusted their glasses as they began to catch their now ragged breath. “I … well I guess I wouldn’t say no to lunch, but you do realise I’m like in my twenties right, maybe where you come from that is a child’s age but here I’ve legally been able to drink since I was 21….” somehow, something told them that it didn’t matter. 

[professorpalmarosa]

Weird Nutmeg Dream: The Chris Chan Escape Room

This is not the first time I have chronicled a weird dream brought on by diffusing Nutmeg Essential Oil. If you diffuse the correct amount, you increase your chances of having a lucid dream...or at least something fun and interesting.

Too much, and you’ll end up with dreams about bees building hives on the other side of your window or psychic hipsters with man-buns stealing your identity so you’ll kill everyone he hates with your brainwaves.

Wednesday night, I had a real doozy...

In this dream, one of my old high school friends had just turned 30. To celebrate, they wanted to get a big group together to play a brand new room at an escape room company close to my city’s amusement park. I was eager to play for a number of reasons:

I love escape rooms. I played my first one in 2016 and have been hooked ever since.

I have played two escape rooms at this facility already. Their rooms don’t have the ambient lighting, expensive sets, and mood music like my favorite place does; but their puzzles tend to be trickier (and honestly, sometimes pretty funny).

The engineer who owns the company and designs the rooms is a very nice guy. Once you finish a room, he loves to nerd out and explain how he constructed the room, how the puzzles work, etc. He also has a cool “replay room” where you can watch your gameplay. Sometimes, he’ll slow it down. Other times, he’ll speed it up and play Yakety Sax from the Benny Hill Show.

This was a brand new room. Only two groups had beaten the room so far, but no one had successfully unlocked the “special bonus ending” yet. That probably thrilled me more than anything else.

My group arrives on time and we’re all eager to find out what the theme of the room is. I try to weasel some information out of the owner, but he’s being uncharacteristically mum about all of this. That’s when our “guide” steps out to greet us.

He’s a chubby fellow dressed in a blue and red striped rugby shirt, a pair of blue jeans with a stain near his fly, a pair of thick glasses, an amethyst high school ring…and something around his neck that gives away what the theme of the room will be. My friends are confused and more than a little grossed out by the stain, but it’s all I can do to hold in my nervous giggling.

‘Oh my god,’ I realize. ‘It’s a Chris Chan escape room.’

For those unfamiliar with who Chris Chan is, Christine Weston Chandler (formerly Christopher/Christian Weston Chandler) is a high-functioning autistic internet personality famous for creating Sonichu: a hybrid between Sonic the Hedgehog and Pikachu. She occasionally releases comics; but nowhere near as frequently as she once did. This is due to stress, repeated harassment from online trolls, financial problems, and a deteriorating mental state due to all of the aforementioned.

Her life is pretty much what would happen if the Truman Show were real…if Truman was autistic and the show was 100% guest-written by internet trolls. Everything she does is chronicled by “Christorians” and broken up into sagas. Sagas are typically categorized by personal life events, failed romantic relationships with (sometimes real, sometimes fake) women, and whatever troll/trolling group is harassing her at present.

As a side note, I know that Christine’s preferred pronouns are now she/her. When speaking about her in the present tense, I will use those. However, since (1) this room dealt with Chris almost a decade before the transition was announced and (2) even Christine herself tends to treat the past Chris as a separate entity (she even kicks him in the nuts in the Sonichu comics, if I remember correctly); I’ll be using he/him for the purposes of the dream. This room was designed around Chris, not Christine.

I don’t have an account on the Kiwi Farms, nor have I ever contributed any articles or attempted to contact Chris. However, I’ve been following Chris’s antics for nearly ten years and fancy myself to be a bit of a closeted amateur Christorian.

No one in my group knew this and it was about to become relevant.

“Hello, ladies and gentlemen, girls and boys, and dudes of all teen ages!” Fake-Chris greeted us. I’m trying my best not to crack up because I recognize that quote. I know where this is going. The actor does not disappoint. “My name is Christian Weston Chandler. I’m here, and y’all are there!”

My poor friends look like they’ve just crash landed onto an alien (Little Big) planet. They have no clue what hell they’ve just unleashed, but it only get crazier from there. I won’t go into the full specifics of what the actor said—again, this was a dream and not reality. Some of the details are hazy now that I’m awake—but I’ll go ahead and tell you what the general premise for the Chris Chan escape room was:

The Sonichu medallion around Chris’s neck was a copy. He wanted to give the original to a “sweetheart” he was courting online, but he lost it somewhere in his room. Just to humor the actor, I asked who the sweetheart was.

Fake-Chris’s face lit up with glee, probably because a real girl was talking to him. “Blanca Weiss,” he tells me giddily. “Blanca’s real. Yeah. I talked to her!”

By now, most of my friends are having second thoughts about entering that room. The actor has creeped out most of the ladies in my party, as well as my gender nonconforming friend who is really uncomfortable when people make comments about their chest. They haven’t had top surgery yet and it’s a very sensitive subject.

There was one more twist for the plot of the room: Chris believed one of us wasn’t being “true and honest” and was, in fact, a troll from the internet. This brings me back to the “special bonus ending” I mentioned earlier. Each group of players would have one troll among them. This person would have a slightly different objective from the other players.

All of us were tasked with finding the Sonichu medallion, but the “troll” player would need to:

Go undetected by Chris and the other players for the entirety of the game.

Find the Sonichu medallion.

Steal the Sonichu medallion from the rest of the party.

Leave the room before the hour was up.

If the troll could successfully do this, they would be rewarded with a free full booking of another room. Escape rooms tend to run anywhere from $15 to $25 per person in my city, so that’s about a $250 value! I don’t care who the hell the troll is in my group is. I’m not going to dox them because I want the free game.

In an attempt to convince my wary friends to move forward with the game, I reassured them that I’d probably be able to catch most of the inside jokes in the room. “I know my Christory, guys.” They looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. “I know this stuff! We can do this!”

Unfortunately, my enthusiasm and can-do attitude bit me in the ass. Not only had I outed myself as some kind of online weirdo to my friends, but Fake-Chris proceeded to hit on me for most of the game. Initially, he tried his best to give every player an equal amount of interaction. I guess he noticed the other people in the room were uncomfortable and I seemed “nice.” I was asked multiple times if I was “boyfriend-free.” (Spoiler alert: I am, but that’s because I’m a super choosy and super, super gay.)

I was right. My Christory knowledge came into play multiple times during the game play. There were puzzles based on:

The “Gitars of Fail” (Guitar Hero guitars Chris customized after Sonichu and Meatwad from Aqua Teen Hunger Force, just to name a couple)

The Sailor Moon poster Chris used to look at every day to reaffirm his “straightness”

Rearranging the members of the Chaotic Combo in chronological order of their first appearance in the Sonichu comics. Their Amibos were spread around the room and needed to be placed in that order, otherwise a box with a magnetic lock wouldn’t open.

The Orange Fanta cans. If you don’t already know what those are for, you DON’T want to know.

The Sonic Totem

The Pixelblock Heart Torch

The “Yep! I’m on TV!” DVD.

The “Wall of Originals” custom Pokémon cards.

Chris & the Hedgehog Boys. My guy pal Patrick had to sing a rendition of “So Need a Cute Girl” and it was godawful.

Finding the one game in Chris’s massive collection where one of the characters was incorrectly colored (Sonic Boom, which Chris doesn’t own. Chris boycotted that game and even pepper sprayed a Gamestop employee).

A scavenger hunt inside the Manchester High School Year 2000 Yearbook. We had to look at every gal pal.

Having to pull half a key out of Officer Nasty and another half out of Kimmi: Chris’s inflatable sex dolls.

A DDR Mat that (once the four combination locks were unlocked) opened a portal to CWCVille. The four codes were SONICHU, ROSECHU, NAITSIRHC, and CLYDECASH.

One of my friends found the Sonichu medallion inside the CWCville portal. It was hidden inside an empty jug of OxyClean. I heard several cases of “oh thank Christ” muttered among my friends. I could tell they were having fun in here, but were ready to leave.There was just one problem:

Someone had to give the medallion back to Fake-Chris and none of my friends wanted to talk to him.

The clock was running out and Fake-Chris had become increasingly paranoid. “Aw, come on!” he kept whining, sweating and panting as he made grabby hands for the medallion.

“Okay,” I told my friends as I held out my hand. “I know none of you want to do it. Give me the medallion. I’ll take care of this.” My friend handed over the medallion without a second thought, but I didn’t head toward the actor.

I headed toward the door. I was the troll all along.

[andthest0ryg0es]

This Isn’t Happening - Chapter 14

My sincere apologies for the LONG wait between chapters. Real Life and writing with @ohh-la-la-leto sidetrack me a lot. :) There’s only a few chapters left of this story and I’m hoping to post them all over the next couple months. THANK YOU, dear readers, for sticking with me and continuing to like and share my writing. It means more than you know. <3

   Two weeks ago Jared had gone hiking with a few female friends and snap chatted the whole day. Twitter had delighted in trying to figure out which of them may have been the one dressed as Robin at the party. Jen was both relieved that the identity of Robin was still a secret and annoyed that people assumed he must be fucking every female friend he has. Jared was posting pretty regularly on social media while they were apart, and it was nice to sort of relax into talking with her friends about the upcoming album and tour. She avoided the girlfriend subject entirely and no one minded or seemed to take particular notice.

She knew Jared was trolling her twitter account and she briefly thought about making it private and telling him to fuck off but she figured he’d probably already seen the worst of it and she may as well own her enthusiastic echelon status. If there was one thing Jared and Mars had taught her, it was to be herself. She knew he was viewing her account because he would sometimes text her with answers to questions or comments about the band that she was RTing like any echelon would. When will the new album be out? “Soon. :)” Where’s Shannon, we miss him. “I tried to talk Shannon into getting snapchat, he said it was stupid. :( Maybe I can convince him to start posting coffee facts again at least...” I wonder what tattoo Jared is going to get for the new era. “I have that planned already, actually. You want to be there when I get it done? Take some pics for me?” She’d nearly fallen out of her chair for that one. Watching Jared Leto get a tattoo might just be the limit of what her fangirl heart could take.

No one had posted or discussed the Halloween pics in awhile and Jared and friend’s snaps and Instagram stories from Thanksgiving, with no Robin in sight, seemed to convince the echelon it was a one night sort of thing. That narrative pissed her off more than the “which fabulous female friend is he fucking” one because it was quickly becoming tiring that everyone online thought they “knew him” and had an opinion on his life. And yes, Jen was well aware of how hypocritical that sounded given her twitter history but circumstances change and she’d definitely learned a thing or two about Jared, and even Shannon and Tomo, that the internet had gotten just so wrong.

Between secret projects and many late nights working to finish up the album by their deadline, Jared was just as busy as she was during their month apart. Inconveniently, his schedule was usually very opposite to hers as well. This resulted in a lot of sleepy late night or early morning phone calls where one or both of them were too tired to do much more than small talk. Jared made up for it in other ways though. Teacher appreciation week at her school was a bigger hit than ever when an “anonymous donor” sent a different food truck each day to feed all the staff. She came home each Friday night to a beautiful bouquet of flowers at her doorstep. And two weeks in when she’d complained that the t-shirt she stole from him didn’t smell like him anymore she received a package that night containing a t-shirt in a sealed ziplock bag with a sticky note attached that just said “xo.”

Throughout the month apart it seemed her nervousness for their planned time together evolved a different reasoning every week. The first week she obsessed over whether or not planning to spend a month for all intents and purposes living with a famous, rich boyfriend she’d only been with for three months was an entirely sensible idea or really just made her a slut and a gold-digger. Jared assured her on multiple occasions that she was clearly neither of those things. Week two and three she worried about being outed as Jared’s girlfriend and what that meant for her privacy and online social life. Jared suggested making her twitter and other accounts private before December was probably not the worst idea. She tried not to go CSI: Echelon on him when she pointed out he wouldn’t be able to see her tweets anymore then and he said that it wouldn’t be a problem.

Now she was down to simply being terrified about meeting Constance. She couldn’t recall having met a boyfriend’s parents anytime since high school. And Constance was an absolute icon, someone the echelon really looked up to. She didn’t talk to Jared about this particular fear much because the one time she brought it up all he did was gush about how awesome his mom was for half an hour and yes, Jared, she already knows that. That’s what all the nerves are about! So instead she circled back to asking him if he was sure about her invading his space for a full month and complaining that the sticky note path Shannon had helped her make so she wouldn't get lost had been removed in her absence. Jared was more than reassuring that it would be fun, he would make sure she didn’t get lost and yes, a month long “date” is maybe not traditional but what about him was? By the end of their time apart she was truly excited for their next month together.

Jen managed to pack fairly lightly thanks to a few reminders and packing tips from Jared and his tour experience. A couple of Xanax before her flight balanced out by a Starbucks, and omg was she looking forward to an unlimited supply of Black Fuel for the next month, and she was on her way.

“Sweetheart!” Jared called out to her as she ran to him from the car in his driveway. Jen threw herself into his arms, wrapped her arms around his neck and refused to let go, even as he walked out to pick up her bags and tip the driver for delivering her safely to him.

“I missed you,” she mumbled into his neck as he maneuvered them inside the house.

“I can tell,” he smirked, prying her arms off of him and kissing her. “You sure you’re ready for a whole month of the craziness around here?”

“I’m very much looking forward to it. Besides, I can just hide in your room whenever I want, right?” she asked.

“Okay, so don’t take this the wrong way...” Jared said as he guided her down the hallway with his hand on her back and Jen tensed. He ran his hand up and down her back soothingly as he opened the door to one of the first rooms off the end of the hall, before it splits into the labyrinth of passageways that leads to the back of the house. “You have a tendency to get lost in the back of the house and I thought since you’re going to be here for awhile you might want your own space where you can actually find it.”

The room was beautiful, definitely bigger than his, with a king size bed and lots of pretty blue accents all around the room, her favorite color. She could see what she guessed were Shayla’s touches in the room, from the makeup vanity to the cute flower curtains. Jen was pretty sure she remembered it being an office last time she was here, so she knew he put a lot of thought into this, even if it was one of the assistants who put it together for her. She spun on her heels and attacked him with a big kiss. “I love it, thank you.”

Jared let out a breath neither of them realized he was holding. “You are welcome to come hide in my room anytime you want, sweetheart. I don’t want you to think I’m banishing you to the other side of the house,” he insisted, wrapping his arms around her and dropping kisses along her neck.

“Hey, I’d have been happy with a little closet space and a drawer for the month but you gave me a whole room. I know you were sick of tripping over my suitcase and all my stuff in your room when I was here for just a week so this is much more practical. Thank you, really,” she said, kissing him again. The look of relief on his face intrigued her. “Were you nervous about this? That’s adorable,” she commented, patting his cheek.

Jared blushed. “Stevie and Shannon were taking bets on how fast you’d run out the door. They said I was going too ‘Christian Grey’ on you, whatever that means.”

Jen laughed but blushed and hid her face in his chest. “Really, Jared? Does everyone know I submit to you in the bedroom?” she asked shyly.

“Um... They know my proclivities and they know you’re dating me. I think most people just put 2 and 2 together, sweetheart,” he explained, hugging her reassuringly. “You want some time to unpack or would you like to come join us in the studio? We’ve got a couple more hours probably.”

“Oh, I’m definitely coming to the studio. Come on,” Jen answered excitedly, dropping her things at the foot of the bed and grabbing Jared’s hand to pull him out of the room. Of course, she barely made it down the hall before she quietly let Jared take the lead because she was lost again. Jared smiled knowingly and pulled her along behind him into the lab.

“Guys, Jen, Jen, guys,” Jared said by way of introductions, pointing to a couch off to the side where she could sit. “Who changed this configuration? I was gone five minutes!” Jared asked, instantly absorbed in his work again. Jen pulled her legs up on the couch and rested her chin on her knee, settling in to watch him work.

She wasn’t sure how long passed before she was startled by the couch jumping as a body crashed down onto it next to her and she suddenly found herself wrapped in Shannon’s bear hug. “If you keep staring at him like that I swear I’m gonna puke,” he teased.

“Shut up.” Jen covered her now red face with her hands. “I can’t help it. He’s mesmerizing when he’s in work mode. And honestly, what echelon wouldn't watch him given the chance?”

“I’ve seen echelon watch him work, they don’t make the same heart eyes you do. I can practically see the little hearts floating around your head,” Shannon said quietly, making sure his brother couldn’t overhear.

“Shannon, stop, please. I can’t even... I’m in so far over my head with him. Its been four months and we’ve seen each other like six times in that time. No one is using the ‘L’ word anytime soon so you can keep all that heart talk to yourself, thank you,” she admonished him.

“That’s fine. I just want to make sure you know that you’re different,” Shannon said.

“I know. He makes sure I know it, too,” she replied sweetly.

“Shannon, stop harassing my girlfriend and get back to work,” Jared warned, grabbing Shannon by the collar and playfully pulling him away from her. “You need anything?” Jared asked, checking the time on his phone. “We should be ready to break for dinner soon.”

The word soon made her smile involuntarily as she shook her head. “I’m good.” Jared leaned down and placed a lingering kiss on her lips before returning to work. Jared pushed maybe a little longer than he should have at getting whatever sound it is he’s trying to capture. Everyone was increasingly frustrated and tired by the time Shannon finally approached Jared and whispered something in his ear that made him look over at Jen. She was still in the same spot on the couch, head propped up on her arms which are wrapped around her knees, but her gaze had gone glassy and she wasn’t paying as much attention as she was before.

“Okay guys, lets call it a night,” Jared announced and everyone rushed to shut down the studio and get out of there. Jen was so zoned out that she didn’t even register what was happening until Jamie and Stevie went rushing past her on their way out the door. Only Jared and Shannon remained in the room with her now. “You still with us, sweetheart?” Jared teased as he finished turning off the last of his equipment.

Jen blinked her daze away and sat up, stretching. “Shannon, are you staying for dinner?” she asked, ignoring Jared’s smart remark. Shannon put out his hands for hers and pulled her to standing and then wrapped his arms around her middle, picking her up in a big bear hug that cracked her back satisfyingly. When he set her down she gave him a smaller hug in return.

“You two haven’t had a night together in what, a month? I think if I stayed for dinner tonight Jared might just kill me and carry on with the band without me,” he said with a wink. “Have fun you two,” he called over his shoulder as he exited the studio, flicking the light switch off on his way out, leaving Jared and Jen alone in the dark.

Jen didn’t move, letting her eyes adjust to what little light was streaming into the studio windows from the moon. Jared easily made his way over to her due to his familiarity with the space and wrapped his arms around her. “You hungry?”

“Starving, but I didn’t want to interrupt and I’m not certain I’d have found my way back to my room alone,” she admitted sheepishly.

Jared pulled away for a moment and she heard him rummaging through a drawer before he was suddenly by her side again. He took her hand and as he led her through the halls he stopped at each corner and drew a small arrow with a black sharpie, indicating which way she should go to find her way back. “This is slightly more permanent than sticky notes,” he commented.

“You’re ruining your walls. For me?” she asked while she beamed at him.

“For you. You should be able to find your way to food at least. It’s only three turns. I’ve never met someone with such a bad sense of direction before,” he teased her.

“This place is insane. I’m sure I’ll figure it out given time,” she said as they entered the kitchen. Jared led her to a stool at the counter and pulled it out for her, guiding her to sit and placing a kiss on her temple before he turned to the fridge. He started pulling out ingredients and setting them out on the counter while she leaned over, trying to see what he was doing. “Whatcha got there?”

“Tonight’s menu is homemade guacamole and tortillas with grilled peppers,” he informed her as he set to work cooking. Jen sat back in awe. Jared looked up at her and chuckled. “Yes, there are a few things I can cook,” he said mockingly.

“I didn’t say anything,” she defended angelically. They kept up small talk long enough to get through most of their meal before the tension finally got to her.

“You know, I’m very impressed with the restraint we’ve shown today. I think we proved that we can be adult about our relationship and not just hump each other like bunnies every time we see each other.”

“Well, I have a work deadline and I told you I’d have to be in the studio a lot, that’s why you’re staying for so long,” Jared began defensively but she cut him off by placing her fingers on his lips.

“Jared... fuck me,” she said bluntly.

“Oh, right, yeah,” Jared laughed, scooping her up off the stool and spinning them towards her bedroom. “Another convenient thing about this room; its so much closer to the kitchen,” he said as he opened the door and set her down in front of the bed, kissing her fiercely.

They ripped at each other’s clothing, not bothering to be gentle about stripping down as quickly as possible and molding their naked bodies against each other once more as they fell back onto the bed. Jared pushed the mound of pillows at the head of the bed aside, and reached up. Suddenly Jen found her right wrist encased in a padded leather cuff. She looked up at him in surprise.

“Yet another convenient feature of this room,” he cited with a grin. When she made no further protest he quickly secured her other wrist as well, leaving her spread bare beneath him.

Now that he had her where he wanted her, his pace slowed and she groaned. “Jared, it’s been a month since you’ve touched me. Please don’t tease,” she begged despite her suspicion it would be useless. The evil laugh she got in response confirmed her suspicion, even as he drew his hand down her body to her slick center.

“What do you want?” he asked in that voice that made her clench her thighs together despite his hand between her legs.

“Oh, god, I want to cum for you,” she pleaded, already lost to her desire.

Jared pushed two fingers into her and pumped them in and out slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. The intensity of his gaze held her in place beneath him as he worked her into a frenzy. He swiped his thumb against her clit and she keened, arching her back and closing her eyes uncontrollably, finally breaking his gaze.

“Beg,” he ordered, redoubling his efforts now with his fingers inside her and his thumb against her clit. She devolved into a gasping mess of pleases and curses before he brought his other hand up to her face, holding her chin so she was forced to look him in the eye. He slid his hand down to her neck, applying pressure lightly as he growled the order, “Cum.”

Jen screamed as her body shook with the climax she’d been denied for weeks. Jared kept working her with his fingers, letting up only a little bit in consideration of her post orgasmic sensitivity. As she tried to buck her hips away he applied more pressure to her neck, a feral grin on his face. He controlled her breathing and her body, pinning her legs open with the way he positioned himself between them, holding her at the crest of her pleasure. Seconds later he brought his mouth down to her breast and issued the command again, “Cum!” as he bit down on her left nipple, pulling it taut between his teeth.

Her body bowed beneath him and her mouth opened to scream but no sound came out for several long seconds. Just as she reached the peak and was starting to come down from her second earth shattering orgasm, Jared pulled his hands from her body and lined himself up, pushing into her to the hilt in one strong thrust. She cursed his name and pulled at the restraints, but wrapped her legs around him in invitation. He was impressed she still had the use of her limbs. Jared fucked her into the mattress unrelentingly, seeking the pleasure he knew he’d quickly find with her gorgeous body wrapped around him. He soon pulled out of her and stroked himself rapidly as he painted her body with his cum.

Jared managed to reach up and release her wrists before slumping to the bed beside her, panting. It was several minutes before either of them really moved or spoke, but Jared was gently caressing his hand along her arm the entire time, maintaining their intimacy. Eventually Jen broke the silence.

“One inconvenient feature of this room: the bathroom is across the hall,” she said, still slightly out of breath. “I can’t go running out there covered in your cum even if you tell me no-one is here. I’m too paranoid for that,” she tells him, smiling.

Jared leans up and kisses her, then points at the door in the corner of the room. “En suite bathroom,” he says. “This used to be a private office.”

“I thought that was a closet,” she said as she got out of bed and went to open the door. The bathroom wasn’t huge, but the shower was a beautiful grey tile and had a small bench and a rainfall spout. “You really thought of everything, huh?” she mused as she started the water.

“Not everything,” he admitted, rolling off the bed to join her. “If I’d remembered how much of a screamer you were I’d have soundproofed before you got here, sweetheart” he teased, pulling her in for another kiss.

The pair showered quickly, light touches and kisses enough after satisfying their craving for each other so completely minutes ago. They dried off and Jen scooped a couple pillows up off the floor and climbed back into bed, exhausted. Jared laid beside her, draping one arm across her torso. Within minutes he was squirming and adjusting in the bed, unable to find a comfortable position. He’d bought the bed for her, knowing she loved the soft mattress at the hotel in Vegas, but his sleeping preference was vastly different.

“Jared, why don’t you go sleep in your room? You really don’t have to stay,” Jen told him, kissing his jaw.

“I didn’t want to run out on you,” he said quietly, dropping kisses along her shoulder. “Are you sure?”

“I’ll be asleep in seconds. Honestly, I’m used to sleeping alone and I know you’d rather be sleeping on the floor. I don’t mind,” she assured him.

Jared stood from the bed and tucked her in, setting his hands on either side of her head and leaning in for a kiss before righting himself. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Jared,” she sighed and closed her eyes, falling asleep almost instantly with a smile on her face.

[ciathyzareposts]

Missed Classic: Wishbringer – Won! And Final Rating

Written by Joe Pranevich

Last week in Wishbringer, I reached a dead end. While I had managed to do just about everything that I think I needed to do in the game, including get the password to the Evil One’s tower and break into the town’s abandoned library, I did not have all of the pieces to put the solutions in order. I’m faced with the fact that I need to restore back, at least a little ways, and that is making me cranky. Sure, lots of games that we have played so far have dead-man-walking scenarios, but somehow this one felt like it would not. I should have been more careful. If only the password that I used to get into the tower worked more than once!

On the whole, I cannot complain too much. This has certainly been one of the most fun games that I have played in this marathon so far, by a designer that I should have expected it from (knowing his future on Loom), but didn’t (having just played his first game, Adventure in the 5th Dimension). While I’m not happy restoring, I will be glad to rescue this kitty and put another game in my marathon to bed.

Such a cute kitty!

So, how far back should I restore? I was tempted to start all over again from scratch. I know there’s a starfish that I didn’t save in the beginning of the game, plus I didn’t snag the seashell before the tide came in. I’m sure there are other elements that I missed because so much of the beginning of the game was a rush, even with how many times I started over to explore all of it. Even so, starting all the way from the beginning wasn’t appealing. It’s fun, but not that fun. So instead I rewound to a bit later than that: I had just snagged the bronze token out of the fountain by distracting a piranha with an earthworm. From there, I had originally gone to the wharf to use the teleportation machine and land in the tower. Instead, I head to the theater instead. Once there, I have no problem buying the ticket and once again Miss Voss reports me to the police for using a counterfeit coin. I grab the 3D-glasses from under the seat and sit down to watch the sequence play out, as the witch (whom I now suspect to be the Evil One) sees that I’m in the theater and cuts the power.

Now with the glasses, I go to the wharf next and teleport back in front of the Evil One’s tower. I replay the whole sequence with Mr. Crisp as a torturer, including watching his demeanor melt when I hand him the note from the Fersteron version of Miss Voss. I save the platypus from the torture machine and this time put on the 3D-glasses while scaling the tower. When I get to the top, I can see!

And another one! I have kitties on the brain!

With my glasses on, the top of the tower looks like it did in the movie theatre, with one cute exception: there’s another little black kitty running around! It’s not Chaos because it doesn’t have the white spot above her nose, but she is cute and I pet her even if she doesn’t let me pick her up. More importantly (perhaps!), there’s a telescope from which I can look out at the town, several control levers, and a discarded broom. I immediately pick up the broom since I know I’ll need it for the “flight” wish, but the rest takes some consideration. (In the process, I have to drop my lab coat and squashed can of mixed nuts; inventory pressure is ever-present in this game. I hope I don’t need either of those again.) Although I don’t see anything interesting through the telescope, the control levers look more interesting. The first, for the theater, is already turned off. The second, labeled “security”, is still on. I turn that off as well. Before leaving, I try one last time to pick up the kitty and she just scampers off. I hope I won’t need her for anything.

After that, I play the rest of the game as before: I escape the tower using the hidden lever behind the painting, I ask Hellhound Alexis to “heel” so that I can get into the Librarian’s house and get the library key, and then I head in there. Just as before, the door closes and locks behind me. I still do not have a key to the circulation desk, but this time I go boldly into the museum room and break open the glass display case using my horseshoe. Who needs to wish for “luck” when you can just smash glass! No alarms go off this time and I am not arrested immediately. Now that I have the cat statue, what am I supposed to do with it? Examining it carefully, it is all black but with an indentation on its forehead. Knowing that Chaos supposedly had a white spot there, is there something white that I am supposed to put inside? Just to be cheeky, I ask the game to “examine chaos” and it tells me the description of the statue so I know I’m on the right path. What do I have that’s about the right size and white? The Wishbringer!

I start to put the stone in the statue’s forehead, but am interrupted. A woman who looks just like the shopkeeper from the beginning of the game arrives and tells me not to do it. Am I going to believe randomly appearing old women? No! I put the stone in anyway and the room melts away in a burst of violet magic. That wasn’t the shopkeeper, that was the Evil One, and I just foiled her plans! Lots of swirly things and magic happen and I am transported back to the outside of the magick shoppe with the town restored. Chaos, now a fully alive black cat with a white dot on its forehead, plays at my feet.

Entering the magic shop one more time triggers the end of the game. The shopkeeper, perhaps the “Good One?”, is overcome with joy at the rescue of her companion. Naturally, she cannot really give me the Wishbringer as a reward because it is tied up with her familiar. I’ll just have to be satisfied that I rescued the town from her sister. The puppy-like mailbox bounds in and nuzzles up to me; I guess it survived the trip from Witchville as well. Before I leave, the Good One even gives me back Miss Voss’s note so that I can return it to the correct version of Mr. Crisp. I’m sure he will be so happy to receive it! Everything has fallen into place nicely and I didn’t even use a single wish!

Plugging the stone into the kitty’s forehead.

All of these plot threads, resolved so nicely…

I rescued a cat!

Time played: 45 min Total time: 5 hr 05 min

Score: 100 points

Meow!

Final Rating

This one will be tough to rate. As an “Introductory” work, it doesn’t have the depth or complexity of some other Infocom adventures, but it makes up for it in charm. I respect that you might not enjoy this game as much as I did, but frankly a light romp was (literally) just what the doctor ordered. Before rating, I read the walkthrough to see what I might have missed. I solved the game (more or less) in the most difficult way, by not using any of the wishes. There are quite a few alternate solutions that I missed such as being able to sneak past the ticket-taker in the theater using the “darkness” spell, or I could have sought “advice” at different times, or used “luck” to fool the troll. A commenter even pointed out that there were three ways out of the police station and I only found one! I’ll try to consider all of that in my review.

Puzzles and Solvability – Let’s start by saying that the puzzles in this game weren’t perfect and some of them weren’t completely fair. The early game time limits prevented you from really exploring the “light” world without multiple reloads and yet there were some objects there that were (nearly?) requirements to win. Would it have been possible to win without fishing out the gold coin, for example? I never figured out how to get the candy in the beginning from the Sergeant, nor did I rescue the seahorse or pick up the conch shell. There were also too many cases where you had to interact with objects that were not clearly laid out in the room descriptions, such as when we had to search under the seats for the 3D glasses. Although I might have given it a pass in a different work, the number of dead-ends here felt wrong for an Introductory game. My score: 3.

Interface and Inventory – We have the standard Infocom interface which hasn’t changed much in this iteration, except for it popping in at key points to remind you to save your game or map. My score: 4.

Story and Setting – This is where the game really shines. The towns of Festeron and Witchville are well-done. The story isn’t devoid of stakes, but having the focus be on rescuing a cat (and from there, the entire town) is a great way to keep it interesting. There’s a kingdom of platypuses! We tucked in a baby grue! Exploring the contrast between light and dark aspects of the game is very memorable. This may be one of my favorite self-contained settings of the entire Infocom catalog. My score: 7.

Could have used more cat pictures.

Sound and Graphics – No ASCII art and nothing really even to validate a pity point, so it has to be: My score: 0.

Environment and Atmosphere – Witchville is creepy and engaging, a fairy-tale come to life. I loved exploring and little details such as the puppy-like mailboxes and the literal “boot” patrols that scoop you up if you are out past curfew just really nailed it for me. Sure, they could have done more with the graveyard or church, but what they had was enough. And what was up with the Zork I scene? My score: 7.

Dialog and Acting – After playing Adventure in the 5th Dimension, I never would have guessed that Brian Moriarty was able to write this well. The prose is top-notch, perhaps on par or better than what we’ve come to expect from Steve Meretzky. The characters are only as complicated as you might expect from a children’s story, but several of them had nice beats. Seeing Mr. Crisp’s dark exterior fade away when he saw the love note from Miss Voss melted my heart. Love can conquer dark magic, after all. My score: 6.

Do I want to add a bonus point? Yes! There should be at least one bonus for the fact that the game is winnable without any wishes, but that using wishes offered alternate solutions to the game’s puzzles. Credit where credit is due; I might have wished for a different magic mechanic, but I can’t be too displeased by the one we got.

Add up the score: (3+4+7+0+7+6)/.6 + 1 = 46 points!

That’s… impressively high, in the top rung of all Infocom games so far. (Only surpassed by Planetfall, Hitchhiker’s Guide, and Ilmari’s playthrough of The Witness.) Am I being too generous? Or is this game a real diamond-in-the-rough? I’m going to stand behind my judgement: this is a great game by a great developer who managed to charm the living daylights out of me. Give me a dozen more games like this and I could be happy. Whomever thought this game deserved to go with the “B-Sides” on the second Lost Treasures set was crazy.

With an average score guess of 40, I expect that I liked this game more than some of you did. Even so, Laukku is our winner with a very close guess of 45 points! Congratulations! CAPs will be allocated with the next mainline game. Next up for me is A Mind Forever Voyaging. I’ve just read the manual so far and it seems depressing. Extremely, extremely depressing. I hope I find the game itself more enjoyable than its backstory, but could Steve Meretzky lead us wrong?

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/missed-classic-wishbringer-won-and-final-rating/

[empoweringmyselftosurvive-blog]

Who am I? Part 1

Who am I? That is a very good question. Let’s see if I can answer it properly.

I am Luckie. I work as a waitress in a Mexican restaurant in the town where I live, I am even the assistant manager! It aided me in learning Spanish (not that I am amazing at it, even after two years) and gave me a place to work when I had no other options. A lot has changed since I first started working there. So many cooks have come and gone. So many servers have as well. My grandmother has passed away. I met one of my soulmates, and lost him. I have had two birthdays, as has my daughter. I have lost myself more times than I can count. I even found myself a few times. But the most important thing that has happened since I start working there is that I amazing people I will never forget, people who have been there for me (at different times) when I was in need. Confused by the random infusion of knowledge about me? Here, I’ll make it easier to read. I am 25 and a single mother to an amazing little girl. Lillian is two and the stars in my universe. Even death couldn’t keep me from her. We live with a lake literally across the road from our front door. Summer time is very fun for both of us, that’s for sure. We have our own little household pets zoo. Six fish, three inside cats (Cinnamon, Elektra, Lucifer <all female>), one outside cat (Eli <male>), and a small inside dog (Ren <male>). To say she is spoiled is an understatement, that’s true. But I would do absolutely anything to put a smile on that little face of hers. Whether it be watching Spirit or Boss Baby or Trolls, playing her learning games on her tablet or on my phone, or just visiting her Deda and Nana, that baby is almost always smiling and laughing. If she isn’t smiling, she’s either extremely tired (and fighting it) or sick.

Of course, I have passions of my own as well. Reading novels of all kinds is how I started out in life. My momma would read the Harry Potter novels to me until I was old enough to read them on my own. Then we would read them together. When the movies came out, we always went to see them together. Our own special little thing that only the two of us did together. Writing all sorts of things from poetry or fictional novellas to full blown novels of the fictional genre. Even memoirs when the mood (and/or muse) strikes. Music is always prominent in my life, no matter what I am doing. Shopping, working, reading, writing, sleeping, driving or riding, cleaning. I am always playing music in some way at all points of my life. Without music, I have no muse. Without my muse, I am not myself. And no one wants to be around me when I am not myself.

I have multiple soulmates or different types. Let me explain.

--> My Twin Soul is a young woman I met in college about five or six years ago in the grammar class we both happened to attend at the same time. Our teacher insisted we all be more involved and social so we were told to turn and introduce ourselves to those around us. Where we were sitting, I could either talk to her or talk to another girl I already knew and spent most of my free time with, so I decided to make a new acquaintance at the very least. She complimented my keychain (a false ear from the TV show The Walking Dead) and we just started chatting. Even after class, we kept in touch and always hung out. We became inseparable and that hasn’t changed a single bit. A few months later she went with me to go shoe shopping with my grandmother for some special ballroom thing I had to attend because of my scholarship. When we walked into the shoe store, Gia made a comment on how cute a pair of shoes were and my grandma snapped “We are only getting ONE pair of shoes, Krystin Brooke!” because she thought it was me. That is how she was introduced to the insanity I call blood relations. Mawmaw apologized when she realized I was on the other side of her, but it was extremely funny nonetheless. Gia’s own bestie (at the time) actually grew ridiculously jealous of our friendship not long after we started hanging out because of how well we clicked and fast we became so close. Amber eventually fell off with Gia, not that any of us are sad about it. Before she fell off though, I actually disappeared on Gia for a while. I moved to the bottom of my home state, got pregnant, and moved to the top of my home state within four months. After moving up, I actually reconnected with Gia after a few more months. It was as if a single day had not gone by. We just picked up where we left off. Best friends who don’t even need to speak to have a full conversation. She helped me through one of the hardest times in my life to date. I didn’t exactly have the best ‘baby daddy’. But that is a completely different story for another post at another time.

--> My Diablita Soul Twin (my evil work twin) is one of the greatest young ladies I have ever met. She is absolutely too insane for her own good and much like me in many ways. It’s insane how much the two of us are in sync. We have even had customers comment on how well we work together, how in sync we are without having to even speak. It’s quite lovely having someone around that understands without having to voice my thoughts aloud just to discuss things that are on my mind. Or how we can just sit and chill without talking and still be completely content and enjoying ourselves.

--> My Gaming Soulmate is Magnus. My friendship with this adorable transgender Dragicorn is the best thing that ever came from Tumblr. Hands down. At least...it is for me. We met through a friend I had made on Tumblr my sophomore year of college (about a year or so before I met Gia). This friend (let’s refer to her as Puppy) and I would play games on Steam a lot and she invited Magnus one night to play Left 4 Dead 2 with us because we were in need of another player. We just clicked! After a while, he and I would play even when Puppy wasn’t around, either alone or with his brother (Chicken) and sister (Bacon). After a few months went by, we would talk every day, about pretty much anything. I would vent to him about my relationship issues and he would support me as best he could. He wasn’t much of a talker (still isn’t) but he makes the best listener. After a while, Puppy disappeared on both of us. It hit him really hard because they had been together. I ended up breaking up with my boyfriend of two years and took it extremely hard as well. Magnus and I didn’t have contact for about a year, but when we reconnected, it was as if we had never stopped talking. Even now, when we go a few months or so without talking, we just connect as if time paused when we went our separate ways. It is one of the best feelings in the galaxy, knowing I have people when I need them, no matter how long it has been since we last spoke. And it is amazing knowing that they know I am here for them as well, no matter what.

I have hopes and aspirations just as any other, but mine are simple. I have dreams that are not as simple though. I wish to be a published novel author some day, working as a novel editor for Penguin Publishing in New York, New York. I dream of having my own side business for interior design to help pay the bills as I write in my free time. One day, I hope to live in a place other than Louisiana. Florida is my goal right now, for my sister (Gia) as well. To get out of this no good town, away from this deadend job, and to create a decent life for my little girl and I would be amazing. I wish for better understand and control when it comes to my emotions and mental stability. I aspire to become the best mama I can be, if not even better, just to ensure Lillian has the best chance at the greatest life she can.

(((soooo many more posts like this to come, but I shall end this one here)))

Thanks for reading, lovies! ~~

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

NOTE:  Yes this one is super short, too. Sorry! Next one will be better.

Let's skip to a couple days later. Not much else happened other than smarmy grossness. Of course, that still wouldn't be the usual level of pure, grade-A Canadian maple sap given that I was part of the relationship, but it was cute. Lots of takeout and movies, gaming, snuggling. Things that I had to get used to since none of my previous significant others had ever stuck around long enough.

Well… other than Scott.

Maybe that's why he was on my mind so much during that time. Literally the only other long-term relationship I'd had was him, and we were in high school, trying to figure ourselves out as much as we were trying to figure out each other and how to combine those two factors. Opening up those memories was like watching him drive away all over again, but I kept doing it. Had to figure out if there was some weird nugget of truth in there somewhere that could help me figure out how not to fuck everything up with Knives.

Scott and I didn't "date" much. It was definitely a benefriends situation; we were buds who started boinking in the back of my parents' car. So all of our activities were about the same as they had been before; practicing music, hanging out with Lisa Miller. We didn't do much that was coupley other than holding hands and sex. From what I heard, Scott got all those romantic experiences from Natalie after he dropped me like a bad habit.

So why did I keep thinking about him if there wasn't much wisdom to be had? Because I didn't have any other experiences to compare it with.

I'm pretty pathetic. But at least I had someone to call and ask for advice. He might not be the most monogamous person I know, but he is a flaming queer, and has had more success in the dating arena than pretty much anyone else in my extended circle. Maybe using my phone-a-friend lifeline counted as cheating, but when working with such a severe handicap, I figure it all shakes out.

                                                            ~ o ~

"Well, well, well," Wallace Wells half-purred in that voice of his. You know the one. "The redhead."

"That is the colour of my hair, yes," I grumbled.

"Didn't expect to ever hear from you again once Ess Bee Bee and that other thing broke up. See you around in that bump-into-people-you-knew-through-people-in-Honest-Ed's way, sure…"

Gripping my drumstick tighter as I sat on my drumset's seat — the seat of power, a place from which I drew comfort and ability to cope with life — I said, "Same. But I got your number from Stacey, because… I need help."

"'Fraid I'm fresh outta that stuff."

"Help? You're 'out' of help. Really?"

"Yep. The generic kind. But if you elaborate, I might have a specific flavour blend in stock…"

He was definitely going to make me work for this. So I decided to stop being shy and cut through the double-talk and uncertainty. "I'm dating Knives."

The line was quiet for a moment. "That sounds painful. My advice is to buy plenty of bandages for when things get frisky."

"No, Knives Chau. Scott's ex."

"Oh!" he said in a pleasant tone of voice. Even now, I'm not totally sure whether he was trolling me or if he really didn't think I meant her the first time. "She was cute in a Pokémon trainer kind of way. Didn't think you played in the kiddie pool."

"She's in college now, you asshat. But I could use some advice."

"Advice for dating women? Fresh out of that, too."

Gritting my teeth, I said, "Wallace…"

"Alright, alright. So you're edging onto the Rainbow Road and you're afraid of flying off the side. I gotcha. Assuming that's the reason you called me instead of someone else you know…?"

"There's nobody else. Stephen's pretty much the only other person I could call, but he gives terrible advice. Hollie is in Nowhereville with Jason, who knows? And Steph… I just don't know her very well. Or maybe too well. I'm really not sure which."

"That makes me the bartender."

"What?"

"You know, the nameless bartender you tell all your deepest, darkest secrets to in hopes he can give you guidance because you're too blasted to figure out he couldn't care less about your life."

"Fine, nevermind. God, sorry to have bothered you."

But he was chuckling. "Alright, alright. I'm half-kidding; I barely know you and don't care that much, but you're family now. That has to be taken into consideration."

"I'm… family?"

"Gay family. A budding bisexual, right?"

"Y-yeah." I cleared my throat to get rid of that uncertain quaver. "I guess."

"We all start out 'guessing'. It's okay." He let out a long sigh, and there was the sound of something being moved around; he was probably working on something in his apartment, or at his job. Whatever that was. "How long have you two been having playdates?"

"A couple weeks, or whatever," I growled, ignoring the insult.

"How far have you gone?" When I let out a strangled noise, he reassured me, "For informational purposes only. Trust me, I'm not going to get off on two girls doing anything. If there's not at least one dick involved, it's off my curiosity list."

I started to correct him that one was involved, but again I felt that instinct to protect her identity kick in. Maybe I should ask her if she minded me telling people at some point. "Dry-humping. She's kind of… never done it, and I haven't done it with a girl. I swear, if you tell anyb-"

"Lips are sealed. Do you want it to go further?"

"YES! But I mean, only if she's ready."

"Good, that's good. I've had a hesitant date or two. No still means no, and that's more important than all the prep work in the world, but I have a couple ideas that could help get her in the mood."

That one hit me hard. Luckily, I just barely listened to her "no"s when we were drunk as skunks. Nodding as I chewed on my drumstick, I then put it down and said, "That'll help, but I'm actually more worried about… other stuff. Like, how to be in a relationship with a cute, bubbly, fun girl when I'm a vortex of despair."

"Opposites attract. Chances are, she already likes you because you're a vortex of despair. Not usually something people put on their eHarmony profile, though." But apparently, I had him curious. "What other stuff?"

"Dating. I suck at it. Like…" I tried to lower my defenses. "She's so sweet to me, and I feel like I'm just there. Sucking all the fun out of the room. I want her to feel what I feel. Or I guess, to show her that. Something."

"Awww, baby lesbians are so cute. Like puppies."

"Ugh…"

Then he sighed again, a long, floaty sigh of someone toying with someone else. Which would be me. "Alright, never fear — Wallaciraptor is here. Let's help you get rolling…"

                                                            ~ o ~

When Knives walked in the door, I could tell she was caught off-guard by the way her purse fell to the floor instead of being set down. "Kim? I… what's going on?"

"Nothing," I lied as I bent over to take the casserole out of the oven, showing off my bare ass. Just below the apron strings. Yes, I really did the cliché. Yes, it was super uncomfortable for me, since I'm not exactly a flesh-flashing kinda girl. But I thought, hey, it was worth a shot. "Making dinner."

Which was also part of the plan. There were multiple parts; I didn't know which one to try, so I tried everything. One big gesture to try and prove to both Knives and myself that I could be a girlfriend, and not just some drummer chick who acts like she's on the rag all the time.

"Yeah, but you're naked! I mean… almost!"

"You like it? I thought the green apron brought out my eyes." It still came out sounding sarcastic, even though I didn't mean for it to. My voice just sounds that way unless I'm actively suppressing the biting tone, and even then sometimes it bleeds through.

"Um…" Deciding not to comment on my butt, she turned toward the stove. "Smells great! We're having casserole?"

"Yes. And garlic bread. That's not done yet, though. And, um…" I glanced at my coffee table, where there was a cabernet open and "breathing" — Wallace's suggestion. I would have just put a couple of beers down to go with dinner, or at least uncorked the wine right before drinking it.

Knives walked over and touched one of the wine glasses with a finger. I got them from a dollar store specifically for this occasion, since I didn't own any before. Then she picked up the remote for the stereo system, which was pretty conspicuous because it was the only other thing on the table. "What's this do?"

"Hit 'play'," I said as I got out plates.

She did. And quiet, soft, romantic piano music started floating out of the speakers. Also from the dollar store, but I listened to the whole CD before using it to make sure it wasn't too terrible. She laughed… but it was a very specific, actual happy laugh. Not so much at my expense as just surprised at the situation, I guess.

"What is all this?" she asked as she went back over to kick off her work shoes and leave them by the purse. "Like… I thought we were just going to have cup ramen and watch TV."

"Wanted to try something else. Um… y-you'll have to tell me if it's any good. Never tried this recipe before." Hell, I don't think I'd ever cooked anything more complex than a frozen pizza in forever.

Once she was in the kitchen, she put her hand in the small of my back. "I'm sure I'll love it." Then she shivered and smiled shyly, withdrawing from the touch. "Not used to touching your skin like that."

"I can change if it's more comfortable for you. This was kind of just… y'know. The 'naked housewife fantasy' bit as a joke. Or maybe not a joke, if you liked it."

"Trying to get me in the mood?" she guessed with a slightly wry smile. When I flushed a little darker, she stopped smiling. "Wait… oh, is this really what that is?"

"Not exactly. But… kind of. I just… wanted to be a good girlfriend, or something like that. I dunno."

The silence was kind of tense. She didn't look angry, just a little confused and contemplating the whole situation. Then she glanced at the oven and back at me.

"How much longer? For the garlic bread."

"About another five. I'll be quick." Clearly, she wanted me in real clothes, which I already had laid out on my dresser. Ready for plan B.

And I was more okay with that than I first expected. Sure, it hurt a little that she didn't know how to feel about me being naked while we ate, but at the same time, neither did I. Just seemed like a weird idea. But Wallace swore it worked like a charm on this one guy he was dating, so I figured I'd give it a shot. No real harm.

Once I was wearing a nice white blouse and a long grey skirt, we got our plates loaded down with casserole and bread and moved things to the table, where we sat cross-legged and ate and drank. She told me about her day, and I told her about mine until the point at which I started getting dinner ready, which I didn't think was interesting — until she started demanding more details with her cute, patient way of doing everything. Incredibly, stories about me buying ingredients and wine glasses was actual entertainment for her.

And somehow, she managed to out-girlfriend me again. Shut up, I know it's not a competition… I know. But even after I drove like a thousand miles outside my comfort zone, hoping to really show her how much I cared and how much she meant to me, Knives was already there and had a jetpack to fly even further. She started doing the dishes as soon as we took our plates to the kitchen, said it was her turn to cook next time when I wasn't expecting it, asked if I had a long day, offered to rub my back when I moved my neck and made the world's tiniest wince… and she gave me the rub, and it felt so good. Told me I looked really cute in the outfit before I could ask. Sweetness and sunshine.

What kind of jerk was she to be so perfect?

                                                            To Be Continued…