#if theres six of them i can make a halo out of it again. and so he has it back. bc i missed it

[vivisectedvitality]

"i don't believe in god, so you're the only one to whom i can pray"

cw: prior mcd, brief suicidal ideation

ghost sits in the front pew of a tiny catholic church in russia. his skin prickles underneath his gear, rifle sat next to him on the bench. he shouldnt be here. he shouldnt be sticking his neck out like this when theyre so close to catching makarov. practically at his front door price had said. or was it gaz. he cant remember very many small details right now.

the church has all the same fittings as the one they held johnny's service at. it's much less ornate though. he thinks johnny might have liked this one better. less frills, much simpler than the drawn out affair they'd had in glasgow. ghost sticks his hand in one of the pockets of his tac vest and figets with the warped bullet fragments in it.

his eyes are drawn to a statue to the side of the altar. its of a woman, eyes looking skyward. she's got swords encircling her, something like a halo over her head. he can't remember her name. something about wounds and sorrow. ghost scoffs, fist tightening in his pocket. the shards of metal dig into his palm.

there's a shift in the constant cloud cover outside, and a solitary beam of sunlight shines through a small window behind the altar. it filters perfectly through the stained glass, casting the pew ghost is on in muted reds and blues. he releases his grip on the metal pieces in his pocket and removes his hand from it, slumping in his seat. blessed sunshine. there's something he could worship. after all these weeks, either holed up inside or underground or living under steel grey skies he felt like some kind of prayer of his had been answered.

it gives him an idea. a bad one, but those seem to be the only kind he can come across these days.

ghost pulls off his gloves, one finger at a time, and sets them on the pew. he flexes his fingers and puts them together like he'd seen people do when they were in church, like he'd seen johnny's mother do after he'd told her that her boy would be coming home in a body bag. he shuffles forward and down until creaky knees make contact with creaky wood, and he waits for the words to come.

but they don't. he sits there for long minutes and nothing comes out. the small beam of sunlight dissappears back into the constant grey, leaving him in the half light of the abandoned church again. he drops down to sit on his calves. the backs of his shoes are digging into his ass and the edge of the pew is jabbing into his vest. he should get up. but he doesn't. he can't. if this is it, the end of makarov, what may be the end of ghost himself, he's going to get through to johnny one way or another, even if he has to sit here on his knees for hours to believe in his god.

another idea occurs to him. it's worse than the first. but he's sick of failing, so he tries anyway.

ghost reaches up and pulls his mask off, tossing it into the seat behind him. he regains his earlier posture, kneeling with his legs straight, hands clasped together, looking up through the window like the statue was.

simon opens his mouth. closes it again. shuts his eyes.

"johnny."

his voice is rough with disuse, breaking on the word. he clears his throat, purses his lips. starts again.

"johnny. dunno if you can hear me. all i know you're just dust in the wind now."

he flexes his interlocked fingers, trying to soothe their urge to pull his mask back on.

"i can't pray for you, can't bring myself to. seems selfish, sure but its facts. cause if theres someone up there watchin' then why the fuck wasn't it me instead'a you. man like me ought to croak before a man like you. bloody fuckin' waste otherwise."

simon knocks his forehead to his knuckles and sighs.

"but now i guess. guess i'll trust you to do that. watch my six. always did johnny, always."

he squeezes his hands together.

"we're going after him, soap, no fuckin about this time. we'll get him. i'll get him for you."

his trigger finger twitches.

"help me get him for you. don't let me fall until he does. don't let me breathe my last until his goddamn skull's caved in. please."

part of the weight he's been carrying since that cold day in november slides off him.

"all the shit i do now is for you johnny. woulda left if price hadn't kept chasing the bastard. woulda gone to meet you off the side of that cliff. everything i do is for you now."

he thinks about the mountains of bodies they've gone through to get this close, the rivers of blood that have stained his shoes so badly he's replaced them twice in four months. he thinks about torture sessions that lasted days, men screaming for their mothers in the pitch blackness of underground cells.

he thinks of fights with price he had to be physically dragged away from, about gaz clocking him across the face after simon had said they didn't care their sergent was gone.

"we'll finish the job. whatever state we're in."

" 'n when i blow his brains out i'll think of you."

he blinks his eyes open to find the whole church bathed in sunlight.

[spearxwind]

oh snap wait when did you give adri broken halo stuff? :o is it related to, like, the angelic theme for the body/code/mechanical stuff he's in?

it's been a while!! I havent actually been able to draw him a whole lot though, buuuuuut *checks sketchbook* I gave him the halo back on feb 23rd or so!

and it is totally related :] since his halo is now the markings around his neck its got the symbolism of it slipping down to choke him // him using it as a weapon

also funny enough he had a halo back in his first days too! a drippy inky ring with a couple horns! and he had it in my OG attempt for a monster form too which was... you guessed it... a snake

It eventually evolved to no longer be drippy and was just a thin halo with horns. I honestly don't remember why I relinquished it though, he had it for a good while. I guess it was during my whole design experiment phase?? It was always optional but at some point I just stopped drawing it behind him whihc is a shame. anyway now its always there in some way :)

Here's a bonus doodle of him with it in human form since I had yet to draw it

[foreverthesickestkidz]

I’ll put a summary here L8er

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten

warnings: cursing, murder, torture, mentions the words domestic abuse & rape

masterlist | guidelines | lullaby m.list

August was an unusually stressful month for you, given your circumstances. Moving away from home, back to Eclipse University, into your small, lonesome apartment was not all that exciting. Starting your last year of law school wasn’t exciting either. A new year meant two new semesters full of tough courses, a paid internship, and the dreaded Bar exam at the end of it all. Stress was eating at you all summer as you tried to prepare yourself for this last year of schooling before fully entering the real world. The one thing you always looked forward to when coming back to this little college town though, was seeing Bambam.

“Y/n! Long time, no see!” Bambam, your beloved best friend, practically screamed the second he laid eyes on you entering his department store.

You giggled, accepting the bear hug he was pulling you into. “Hey B, I missed you so much!” As you pulled away you noticed him look you up and down and shake his head.

“Damn, girl. Did you get hit by a bus this summer? You look like hell,” he raised an eyebrow. You lightly smacked his shoulder and laughed.

“No! It’s just been really stressful lately. And I literally just moved all my stuff back into my apartment, okay!”

Bambam noticed another customer enter the store then, looking over your shoulder rather than at you.

“I wasn’t too sure if you’d be here actually, B. I was gonna call and make sure before I walked all the way here, but I decided to make it a surprise,” You explained, moving to the side so he could walk past, following close behind.

Bambam never let an opportunity to make a customer glamourous pass, not even for his best friend he hasn’t seen in months.

“Oh yeah, I just got back actually. I hosted a fashion show in Milan last week, but I’ll be here for another month maybe,” He explained as he reached the young lady browsing the racks of his expensive, well designed blouses. He turned away from you to greet her, so you decided to leave him be, and just call after he closed the shop for the day. After giving a small wave to Bambam as you walked out the shop, mouthing a ‘I’ll call around 7’ as to not interrupt the client, you wandered back into the streets of Eclipse. The August sun was strong, and you noted the nice weather as you passed by the other shops and restaurants of Downtown. Bambam’s shop was only about a fifteen minute walk from your apartment, but in the heat, it seemed like ages. So, you decided to stop at a little ice cream parlor before heading all the way back into campus.

Kim’s Ice Cream was practically empty. Upon walking in you noticed two things immediately, the first was that they didn’t serve chocolate ice cream, the second was the only other customer present in the building. He sat in the corner with a half melted milkshake in front of him, watching something intently out the window. So, curiosity got the best of you and after settling for the next best ice cream flavor (second to chocolate), you wandered over to his table.

He seemed to notice you immediately, which wasn’t that abnormal since you were the only other customer there. But, he looked up and cocked his head to the side, almost like a questioning puppy.

Smiling, you greeted him, “Hey, is this seat taken?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, and shook his head. “No, no. Please,” He motioned towards the empty seat across from him, and finally returned the smile.

“I’m Y/n. I just happened to notice you watching something outside,” you nervously laughed, “Curiosity sort of urged me over here to ask what it was.” Upon finishing your sentence, you ate a spoonful of ice cream. He looked up and made complete eye contact with you for the first time. His eyes were full of focus, and deep with thought.

With a lazy grin he licked his lips and answered. “Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”

With a nod and a soft smile you quickly replied “But the cat knew the truth.”

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head with a laugh. “I was watching the birds. I’ve always found them so intriguing,” He glanced outside once again, and looked back with a darker twist in his large pupils. You always noticed the smallest things about people, and the eyes ahead of you were certainly the eyes of someone hurting.

“I’m Mark” he stuck his hand out for you to shake. Calloused fingers and bruised knuckles engulfed your smaller hand.

****

Several hours after the introduction, you found yourself laying in bed wide awake. While finishing unpacking you grew tired, but somehow you can’t seem to fall asleep.

With a frustrated sigh, you reached to the nightstand to pick up your phone and check the time. Seeing 4 unread texts from Bambam, you decided to read and respond, it wasn’t like you were going to get any sleep anyway.

-Sorry you had to leave earlier I had to glam that bitch

-Hey idk if youve seen the news but theres some scary shit happening in eclipse rn, you should be careful ok?

-? y/n

-Y/N!!!

You shook your head and rubbed your eyes. The last text was only sent five minutes ago, maybe Bambam was still awake. You decided to turn the news on before calling him.

“Residents of Eclipse please be extra cautious! Breaking News reports a string of murders throughout the town, focused around Eclipse University’s campus. We’re reminding all citizens to lock your doors, and remain calm. We all need to stick together at this time.”

Your eyes grew wide as you flung the blanket from your form and ran to your front door. Locking the deadbolt, you immediately FaceTimed Bambam.

“Bambam! What the hell is happening?” You almost yelled through the phone.

“Shh shh, calm down. It’s okay, you’re okay,” he comforted you with a soft tone. Bambam always knew when your anxiety flared up, and stayed gentle with you to help you calm down. He stayed on the phone until he knew you were alright.

“Just remember to be careful, y/n.” He whispered after a while, and you finally managed to fall asleep.

Bambam huffed as he hung up the phone. The truth was that he was terrified. He knew he would be alright, he owned a few guns and he was away from Eclipse for weeks at a time anyway. But, he also knew you didn’t live the same life as him. You didn’t own any weapons, you were stuck here, and you trusted far too easily. The murders sent shivers down Bambam’s spine and his head started to ache at the thought of his best friend in danger. Worried hands typed vigorously on his phone as he dialed the phone number of the one person he hated most. He knew that despite his hatred, this person would be the only one close enough to you that Bambam trusted to ensure your safety when he left.

“Bambam? What the fuck do you want? It’s three in the fucking morn-“ Jackson’s voice was husky and rough after being awoken.

“Shut the fuck up and listen.” Bambam was already annoyed with the boy on the other line.

Jackson scoffed and rolled his eyes, despite Bambam not being able to see.

“Have you seen the news?” Bambam ran a hand through his hair and walked out onto the balcony.

“Yeah, if you’re calling to accuse me of any shit I won’t hesitate to block you.” Jackson’s defensive tone was enough to piss Bambam off.

“I’m not accusing you of anything. You might think you’re tough shit but you’re no killer. I’m calling about y/n”

Jackson’s ears perked up at hearing your name.

“Y/n? What about her? Is she okay?” His voice suddenly grew softer.

“She’s fine. But, I’m worried about her. You know how she is, and I’m not sure how I can make sure she’s safe when I leave Eclipse,” Bambam sighed. “That’s why I called. Me, you and Yugyeom don’t get along, but I know you both care for her as much as I do.” A slight breeze caused him to shiver.

Bambam heard rustling on the other end of the line.

Jackson pulled his shirt on and tied his shoelaces.

“When are you leaving?”

Bambam looked out over the silent town, and shook his head to himself.

“Soon,”

Jackson grabbed his keys and reached for the doorknob.

“She’s in good hands, Bambam.”

The line went dead as Bambam leaned his head back, eyes closing.

“She damn well better be. She’s all I’ve got in this world.” He whispered softly to the wind.

Jackson pulled the door of his Corvette open and slipped inside. The curfew didn’t let up for another hour, but he needed to see Yugyeom. His best friend needed to know what Bambam called about, and he wasn’t sure how Yugyeom would react to the prospect of seeing you again. Shifting gears, he sped away in the direction of Downtown.

Yugyeom opted to move to Eclipse permanently after his first semester of law school. His home life wasn’t ideal, and he was happier here than there. His little house on the corner of Main Street and Downtown boulevard was perfect for him. He was in a deep sleep when he awoke to the sound of constant banging on his door. Groaning and reaching for the 9mm pistol in his nightstand, he pushed himself up and rubbed his eyes. He opened the front door to be met with the worried eyes of his best friend.

“Fucking hell, bro. I thought you were a murderer or something!” Yugyeom furrowed his eyebrows as he let Jackson in.

“Funny you mention that…” Jackson rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I just got off the phone with Bambam.”

***

Mark held the printed photograph up next to the sorry male in front of him. The picture matched the guy perfectly, and with a dark chuckle he licked his lips.

“I knew I’d find you.”

The man roughly jerked against the belt that secured him to the chair. Flailing helplessly to try to break away, screaming into the duct tape secured on his mouth.

“Stop trying to break away. Nobody will help you.” Mark cocked his head to the side, grinning at his prey. The man’s muffled screams began again. Mark pulled up a chair and sat in front of him. The only light came from an exposed lightbulb hanging from the ceiling above them. The lighting created a halo above the bloodied man. How ironic.

“I have some questions for you, before I have some fun, so you just nod or shake your head in response. And if you lie, you’re gonna regret it.” He held up a knife in one hand, and a gun in the other.

“This is how this is gonna work, I’m going to ask a question, you will truthfully answer me. If you cooperate, I’ll use this,” he held up the gun, pulling the slide back, “if you don’t cooperate, I’ll use this,” he held the knife up again, skillfully spinning them through his fingers. The man’s eyes widened in fear.

Mark’s eyes gleamed with excitement.

“First question! Have you ever seen this girl?” He held up another printed photo of a smiling young woman. The man vigorously shook his head.

“You fucking LIAR!” Mark screamed the last word. He rolled his eyes and stood from his chair.

“You lied straight away! Nobody ever lies from the first question!” He laughed out, and ripped the duct tape from the man’s mouth.

“Now, count backwards from 100 in sets of 3,” Mark pressed the knife against the bottom of the man’s pinky finger.

“Fucking count!” Mark screamed in his face. He began counting as Mark sawed away at his fingers. Blood dripped down the armrest of the chair and onto the rotting carpet. Mark was in euphoria. The red color was glittering under the harsh lighting and the smell made his grin a little wider.

Many hours into Mark’s fun he grew bored and decided it was time for judgement. The man was on the very brink of passing out anyway, and the smell of blood started to give Mark a headache.

“Alright, man. I’m done.” Mark huffed out. The man looked almost relieved. ”I hereby render you guilty of domestic abuse, and the rape of Yang Jimin. I sentence you to death.” Mark smirked at the man’s appearance, and inability to speak after having his tongue ripped out. He untied the man and laid him out on the floor. He began softly singing, “Lay thee down now and rest, may thy slumber be blessed lay thee down now and rest, may thy slumber be blessed,” he pulled the gun from his pocket and pressed the barrel to the man’s forehead. “Lullaby and goodnight, thy mother's delight, bright angels beside my darling abide,” He pulled the trigger, blood splattering over his face and clothes. Humming the song again, he brought the knife to the dead man’s stomach. After etching the word “goodnight” in scratchy rough lettering, Mark shook his head.

“Justice is served,” he chuckled and pulled matches from his pocket. Picking up the gasoline in the corner, he walked around the tiny raggedy house, lighting his cigarette with a match before pitching it behind him, walking away and disappearing into the night.

***

Morning light drifted through your blinds when your alarm rang. You blinked your eyes open and yawned before turning the annoying noise off. Stretching, you got up and got ready for the day. You only had one class, but after you had to report to your first day of interning with Eclipse’s best attorney, Lee Kwang, who also happened to be your professor. Upon walking to your car, you never expected to see the familiar black Jeep parked next to your little blue Corolla.

“Kim Yugyeom. It’s been a while,” you smiled halfheartedly to the owner of said Jeep.

“We need to talk.” He seemed on edge, but you figured it was because the last night you spoke in person was a night everyone involved wished to forget.

You unlocked your car and opened the back door, dropping your backpack in the seat. “There’s not much to talk about.” You looked anywhere but at him.

“I talked to Bambam last night,” he leaned his back against the door, arms crossed.

The realization hit you a second later.

“No. Absolutely not. I don’t need anyone’s protection. I’m a grown woman.” You seethed at the thought that these boys saw you as someone so weak.

“It’s not about that, y/n. We just care about you,” he tried to reason with you.

“Who cares about me? Because you and Jackson are the last people who act like they care about me.” You shook your head to stop tears from falling. Slipping into your car, you pulled away from the parking lot.

***

Mark’s eyes met yours the second you walked into the law firm. He waved and smiled as you walked towards him.

“Hey! I never thought I’d see you here!” You beamed at the boy you met yesterday.

“Yeah, small world. I was just on my way out, but before I go, I just, I forgot to ask back at the ice cream shop,” he blushed a little and scratched the back of his head. “Can I maybe, get your number?”

Your face flushed red, yet you smiled widely.

“Yeah! Of course!” You reached for a pen and scribbled numbers onto a sticky note.

“Thanks, I’ll call you later!” He smiled as he walked away.

You took a deep breath and knocked on Professor Lee’s door, not noticing the way Mark looked back at you as he left the building.

[entergamingxp]

Valorant is set for inevitable success, but there’s still room to improve • Eurogamer.net

Expect it to be huge. Valorant, Riot Games’ tactical, abilities- and weapons-based shooter, is finally out in the wild, and it’s arrived off the back of a frankly massive “closed” beta. Some of those numbers, like the outrageous watch times and concurrent viewers on Twitch, are artificially inflated – namely by Riot’s “drops” system of handing out beta keys to random viewers of streams – but the player numbers aren’t. There’s good reason for it.

For starters, I’m not sure I’ve played a game that feels as ground-up optimised for its own purpose as Valorant. This is a game that makes its case through competency. It has the best servers (are we numb to the words “128-tick” yet?), the most optimal art style, an aggressive, proprietary anti-cheat system and a team behind it that feels frankly obsessed with proving its pedigree. It’s a statement, Riot Games standing up and saying “this is what we can do”.

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The good news for us is, for the most part, that means Valorant is an exceptionally well-made game. It’s gunplay might not outright surpass the precision of Counter Strike, but it certainly matches it, and while it might not beat Call of Duty or Halo for the pure satisfaction of firing a weapon, in this case that’s sort of besides the point. There are settings for reticule sizes, shapes and colours. There are exact damage stats displayed on the weapon-choice screen that detail head, body, and limb damage – including at different ranges – and bullet-point accurate rates of fire for every firing mode a gun has. Much like Counter Strike – and Valorant really is very close to Counter Strike – precision rules above all.

That emphasis comes through on just about every aspect of the game. The use of sound is excellent, and mastering that becomes an essential part of any successful player’s game. I found weapons a tad loud in the beta, but otherwise it’s perfectly pitched. You’ll need to juggle walking and running at the right moments, which often leads to brilliantly teeth-clenched moments as you inch towards a doorway or a corner, trading silence for being visually exposed. At higher levels maybe you’ll use the sound of your own footsteps for bait. Abilities are what sets it apart, but most abilities are “support” focused in one way or another: they’re about vision, terrain, zoning, initiating, and control, as opposed to raw damage.

There are 4 maps at launch. They’re wonderfully designed in terms of flow and competition, but are lacking a little life.

There’s some room for improvement with them. While a lot of abilities can be used quite creatively – Sage can create a solid, temporary wall, but also stand on top of it as she creates it, raising her and any others nearby up to gain a unique sightline – it feels like there’s a fair bit of repetition. There are one or two too many large, block-colour orbs of smoke, and walls of damage-dealing fire or poison, given such a small roster of agents. I’d like to see Riot get a bit more creative with these as new agents are released – sound and movement speed feel like they could do with some ability attention, for instance. That said, they still complement the gunplay brilliantly, and I’ve seen the occasional bit of cross-character teamwork at my lowly level of play already. At competitive levels there’s huge potential.

Valorant’s biggest obstacle, though, is one that we’ve talked about before. It needs to get much, much better at managing the behaviour of its own players. Toxicity hasn’t quite reached the heights of that in League of Legends, I’d say, but it’s significantly worse than competitors like Apex Legends or Rainbow Six Siege, and that’s only heightened by the emphasis on voice chat, something that inherently alienates certain sections of the community and exposes them, often, to instant abuse if they decide to pipe up. It’s also emphasised by the game’s own tension. As thrilling as a clutch win may be, losing a single round can be miserable if you’re on the receiving end of some bile. For a studio that has such a long history of waging the war on in-game abuse I’ve found the lack of robust, proactive measures in the preview, the beta, and now the early days of the full game extremely disappointing, and frankly naive.

New players now get these messages on startup, including prompts to set up voice chat as you like it. It’s a good first step, but the game could do with a carrot as well as threats of the stick.

There are other things to look out for, over the coming weeks and months after launch. Valorant lacks character. The world – the sky, the surroundings, the general sense of place – feels overly still and empty, like you’re running around a city after everyone’s gone to the rapture. Characters themselves are a little under characterised – the quips of Londoner Phoenix were the only memorable ones for me, of the ten in the game, and at no point does the game get close to the vivaciousness of Overwatch. The “Vanguard” anti-cheat system is ruffling some feathers because of just how aggressive it is: it’s a separate program on your PC, and if it’s not running when the game starts you’re asked to reboot your entire computer to try again. Monetisation, I’m sure, will evolve over time too. At the time of writing there are no loot boxes, for those worried about modern gaming’s bogeyman, but despite some reports of promises not to include them, when we spoke lead producer Anna Donlon told me “not right now” – although emphasised that anything affecting gameplay would always remain sacrosanct.

None of those worries, however, will be enough to really slow Valorant down. This is a game with everything pulling in the same direction, to quite a remarkable degree, and with the maker of the biggest game in the world behind it. It’s an enormously satisfying game to feel yourself getting better at and to win. In most areas, right down to the breadth of in-game training options or depth of menu settings, it is enormously conscious of what you the player might want. It is also, most importantly, just very good fun – it just needs to remind some players of that.

from EnterGamingXP https://entergamingxp.com/2020/06/valorant-is-set-for-inevitable-success-but-theres-still-room-to-improve-%e2%80%a2-eurogamer-net/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=valorant-is-set-for-inevitable-success-but-theres-still-room-to-improve-%25e2%2580%25a2-eurogamer-net

[whxtiswriting]

A real Angel ||

Sam and dean are hunters and problem solvers. They go where they are needed and they dont stay very long after a case is solved. 

They were packing up a hotel room when a woman frantically tapped on the door. 

She was frail, thin, and her plaid over coat dress was falling off of her shoulders. 

"Whats she want?" Dean asked, not too interested. "I paid for the room." 

Sam rolled his eyes and opened the door. "How may I help you, maam?" 

"You boys solve problems? Dont you?" She asked. 

"We dont have time to find a cat or open jars-" dean snarked. 

"I'm not really sure how we can help you." Sam said nicer than dean would have. 

"Its my daughter-" she said frantically. "Shes joined a cult-!" 

"We don't normally do cult things." Dean replied. 

Sam frowned and ushered her inside. "Why dont you have a seat and we can see if this is the kind of thing we can help with." 

Dean rolled his eyes as he was attempting to close his suitcase. "It wont be-" 

The lady walked in, clutching her handbag and dug around inside of it. "They say they have an angel-" 

Sam frowned, "would you like some tea?" 

"I would like for you to bring ny daughter home!" The lady snapped, pulling out a thin, long, red envelope. "She sent me proof!" 

The lady shoved the envelope into sams hands. 

Sam opened it and his heart kind of stopped for a moment. 

There was a long black feather inside. The tip where it came from the wing was coated with dry blood, the edges shimmered with light, and it brought an energy to Sam that he had never felt before. 

Dean looked over and frowned. "A feather? That could come from anything." 

"But it didn't! It came from my daughter! You need to save her from this stupid cult!" The lady snapped, "I can pay you! I have money!" 

Sam handed the envelope to dean, and looked back to the lady. "What do they call themselves, this cult?"

"The children of heavenly light." The woman scoweled, pulling out a pamphlet. "My daughter was a college student, she was successful- they targetted her and many others- I havent seen or heard from her in many months. Please- please help her." 

"We will do what we can and be in touch." Sam agreed, handing her his card. 

After she left, Sam turned to dean. "Did you have to be so- rude? This could be easy money." 

"Or it could all be a stupid ruse." Dean said, still stroking the feather. 

"The cult seems to be located in the mountains up north; I'm gonna call Bobby and see if hes ever heard of them and see if theres anything unnatural to this claim-" Sam replied, stepping outside. 

Dean sighed, tucking the feather back into the envelope and grabbing the bags. Either way, they werent staying in this motel anymore.

After returning the keys, dean joined Sam at the car. 

Sam was using his laptop and was leaning on the hood of the car. 

"Get your ass off babys hood!" Dean snapped, throwing their bags in the back.

Sam rolled his eyes and got into the car. "So this cult is located in the Washington mountains. They moved up there to be closer to the heavens. They are located near an Observatory for mount Olympus." 

Dean got in and started the car. "So theyve holed themselves up in the snowy freaking mountains to be closer to the heavens? Not very clear on which heavens they care about, are they." He complained. 

"Bobby says that they might very well have an angel- but hes never met one thats kept people hostage." 

"So probably not our bad guy then- if they really have one." Dean agreed, as they started their long drive. "How do we join this cult?" 

"They target school fairs and career days- so we just gotta go to the local college." Sam figured.

They drove almost straight through, and when they got to the town, they looked for a motel to stay in. 

The snow was a lovely sight, in theory, but it reminded dean he needed to find his jacket. 

"I'll check us in." Sam said, getting out of the car in the motel parking lot. 

"I'll find us somewhere to eat and find information on this cult." Dean agreed. 

A while later, they were in a pub, drinking, eating, and doing research. 

They found there were many lost people signs up around the town. It was a place where people disappeared. 

There were a few people in the pub who were drunk and angry about the cult- but they didnt find too much out about it. 

There were many people who said the religious group was a group of nice people who never bothered anyone and only came to town for supplies. 

They weren't getting anywhere, so they returned to the motel and dean laid down for the night. 

Sam stayed up doing a little more research before he also went to sleep.

The next day, they went to tour the local college, peruse for information- and maybe get laid, dean joked. 

They split up- Sam went on a tour and dean looked at all of the places flyers were posted. 

Luckily, dean found a flyer for an open event that week. 

"Its all BS." A cute blonde said, rushing by. 

"What is?" Dean asked, following her. 

"That group- its all a bunch of talk, no show." She laughed, stopping in front of him. "They talk game but ive never seen an angel." 

"I'm only in town for a few days, thought it might be fun to see some really good stage craft." Dean joked. 

"They might help with that. Their residence is super decked out." She agreed. 

"Youve been?" Dean asked. 

"My friend is a member- made me tour it-" she agreed. "But I didnt see what all the fuss was about." 

"Maybe ill check it out then." Dean agreed. 

She laughed again and left. 

Sam came over. "This school is amazing!" 

"Did you find anything?" Dean asked. 

"They have the largest library ive ever seen!" 

"I mean about the case, Sam." Dean chasticed. 

"Oh, right. I learned that theyve had a few students go off and join- and that the leader was a professor here."

"Well, I learned there is a party open to the public this weekend." Dean replied, "so we will be learning if theres an actual angel around here soon." 

Over the next few days, they did research into the families whos kids had joined, the cult leader, and more. 

The night of the party came, and they headed up to the mountain side compound. 

A lot of people came to see what the fuss was about. 

The compound was more like a palace, beautifully decorated in modern art and statues depicting heavenly stories, there was even a chandelier in the entryway. There were twinkle lights everywhere. 

Inside the main room, was a sight no one was prepared for. 

Under a large round light, depicting a halo, was an almost naked college aged man, who was bound in red leather. 

He was kneeling, hands bound behind his back, but most importantly, there were leather straps wrapped around the base of his wings, keeping them extended and him slightly lifted from the ground. 

They were beautiful, even in their tattered state. 

The 'halo' light was the only light in the room, aside from a movie screen that was playing propaganda videos on it. 

The angel was poised, trapped in a circle that was painted on The floor. Its back was scarred- and its head was down. It was almost statuesque.

"That cant be real-" someone said nearby. "Its fake-" 

Dean studied the surroundings a little closer- the trap painted on the floor- the way the wings were pulling on the back of the man- the tools that looked out of the ordinary, the way the leather cut into the angels skin as if it wasnt just leather After all. 

"I-i dont think this is fake." Sam said quietly, as they moved to get refreshments. 

"I agree." Dean said stiffly. 

A young women came into the room carrying a bucket and a rag. She knelt by the angel and began the show. 

He jerked forward when the water from the bucket touched his skin. 

"Its okay." She said sweetly. "We bless you for your pain so that we may live." 

The angel stiffened, but didnt respond. He was biting his tongue. 

The woman washed him in the special water, preparing his body for the pain that would come. 

Some were begining to think this was performance art. They didnt see it clearly. 

The woman stopped, gathered her things, and walked away when the leader, the professor came into the room. 

"Good evening my friends! Please, take a seat, have a drink, and enjoy the show." 

"I have a feeling I will not be enjoying this." Dean said gruffly. 

"Just sit down and dont make a scene." Sam instructed.

The professor began his speech. "Tonight is a celebration of life: our heavenly gift is going to provide life for our ceremonies, and he will bring prosperity and love to those who reside and who are visiting for this event." 

"First, though, he must absorb our sins." The man announced, taking a whip from where it lay on an almost surgical tray. 

"I will start, and then my children will follow. And any guests here tonight with something to attone for may join us." He explained, before stepping up to the circle.

The angel tensed, but didnt make a sound. There were innocents in the room- he just had to focus on holding himself together.

The man threw the whip back, and then unleashed it on the angels back. Thr whip was designed to cause physical damage to ethereal beings- but not kill them. 

The angel jerked forward- against the restraints- but he kept from crying out. 

The man hit him twice more, before passing the whip to a young lady. 

There were twenty six members of the cult, who each swung the whip for at least one repentance. 

By the time the cult members were finished, the angel was crying. There was blood that seemed to shine and almost glow, running down its back. 

A few curious people from the crowd got up to try. 

"I think we have to do it to join-" Sam said. 

"Figure out a different way." Dean snapped. 

The professor grabbed a silver chalice, and a knife, using the chalice to catch some of the blood that trickled down before cutting the angels wrist, and catching the blood from there. 

"For our sins, we beg forgiveness. For our sins, we drink to cleanse ourselves." 

He took a drink, before passing the chalice to his members. 

"Those who wish to join us innour quest for purity and immortality, may drink from the chalice and join our ranks." 

Dean reluctantly got to his feet. 

"Should we both join?" Sam asked quickly. 

"I'll join, you don't have to." Dean said, wondering if there would be horrible side effects to joining. 

"I'm not just going to leave you here with these people-" Sam argued. 

"We need someone on the outside too-" dean reasoned. "Besides, my souls already damned." 

"Dean, this isnt funny." Sam argued. "You need me here." 

Dean sighed, "fine." 

They got in line. 

"I told bobby and Jo where we were, case something goes wrong." 

It was then deans turn to drink. The liquid was silvery red, and it felt like a warm honey as it filled his body. He stsrted to tingle- injuries hed had began to heal, he felt light, giddy almost. 

He almost couldnt remember why they were here.

4:53 PM

Sam drank and closed his eyes. The warmth from the liquid warmed his soul, from his fingers to his toes. It was easy to see why this was addicting. 

Afterwards, the professor decided on one of the new people being allowed to clean the angel up. 

Dean was handed the container of purified water, and a cloth. 

Dean knelt down and dunked the cloth in the water. Watching it bubble for a moment. Everything felt amazing. 

The angel was panting- it was clear he was in pain- but he attempted to move away from the rag. 

The professor walked over and pinned him to the floor with his boot. "You will be cleansed of our sins and we will once again be free." 

The angel pulled away as hard as he could- but he was trapped. 

Deans hands were gentle when he placed the soaked rag over the boys back. The bloodied water swirled as he cleansed him- the water stitching his wounds back together. They left only scars in their wake. 

The emotional scars were worse. 

He didnt even beg for his release anymore- he didnt even pray to his god- his father, his creator, anymore. They made him impure and purified him again- but he was still dirty, unclean. Unworthy. 

He was trying to make himself so dirty that he wasn't heavenly anymore- then theyd have no use for him. 

When dean was finished, he wrung the cloth out and moved to his face. He washed it of the sweat and tears. He looked him in his eyes. He remembered why he was there. 

"Thats enough." The professor said, helping dean to his feet. "Charlie will show you to your rooms, charlie!" 

A young lady hurried over- she looked just like the photo her mother gave them. "Yes my professor?" 

He kissed her, "show my lovely new students to their quarters." 

"What about the angel?" Dean asked.

"I will move him to a safe location." The professor answered. "You must go and sleep." 

Dean nodded softly. "Yes professor." 

Sam and dean were led to a room theyd share with another new comer and an existing student of the cult. 

The professor went back to the angel and began the process of untying him. He began with the wings- which were sore and aching. They dropped like lead when they were undied, semiwrapping around the boy. Then, he unbound his hands, kissing the skin beneath the bindings, and finally the ankles. He then wrapped the used leather around the boys neck like a leash and pulled him to the edge of the circle. "You try anything- and you will regret it." He hissed, before breaking the circle and pulling the angel away from the show room. 

He was compliant until they got near the mans bedroom- he jerked against the bindings and hit him with his wings-"let me go-!" 

The man overpowered the angel and held a blade to his throat-"I will end you, castiel!" 

The boy bucked, trying to get the blade to cut him- "You wouldnt-" 

The professor hit him, his ring cut castiels face. "You will obey me, I own you." 

Cas was dizzy and weak- being torn apart by ancient weaponry and put together by holy water was not a spa treatment. 

The man pulled him into his room and threw him to the dog bed next to the master bed. The room was huge and luxurious but castiel loathed it. 

There was a large trap painted under the rug- from the bathroom to the tv- not close enough to anything that would help him escape. 

Castiel dropped to the bed on the floor and curled up, closing his eyes. 

"Not so fast- I need to make sure they caught every wound." The professor instructed, pulling the angel to his feet. 

Castiels resistance flared inside him. "You won't find any wounds, let me rest." 

The man just laughed and pulled down the angels boxers. He ran a hand over every part of him- shoving them into his mouth, inspecting him for sores, he said. He traced over every part of him- and found nothing. 

It was all a cover- dirtying the angel for self gratification. 

He shoved his fingers inside of the angel- who cried out and turned his head to the heavens- and began jacking off. 

"St-stop this-" castiel begged, "stop-" 

"I gotta make sure you are safe." The man insisted- thinking about what a pleasure it would be to take the angel right there. 

It was over quickly, but not quick enough for cas. He slumped into the bed on the floor and cried- the professor collected his tears for his healing salves. 

He called in one of his many students and told them to ready a clean bath for the angel, but didnt elaborate as to why. 

They filled the bath with sacred water and then helped cas into the water. The angel barely moved. 

He was praying again- this time for death. He wanted this to be over. He didnt want saved or cleaned- he wanted death to come and take him away. 

The student made sure every part of him was submerged, at least once, by forcing castiel under the water. 

Castiel hoped hed die, but the boy let him back up- and he drizzled water onto the angels wings. They were missing feathers- and the water sometimes helped fix them.

When it was over, castiel was dried off by gentle, worshipping hands, dressed in pajamas, and then brought back to the dog bed. 

Castiel laid down, not wanting to be near the master, and closed his eyes. He briefly wondered if his father was allowing this. 

The man laid down on his bed and began reading a book. "You could always join me up here." The man offered. 

Castiel clenched his eyes shut and tried to will his human vessel to sleep.  It didnt work- hed been too thoroughly purified, but the professor fell asleep. 

Cas got up and began looking for flaws in the trap- for anyway out.

 There wasnt a way out. He went to the bookshelf and flicked through the books, before pulling out one of the professors books on ancient religions and going back to his bed. He sat down, flipping through the book, reading quietly. 

 There were notes in the margins about every subject- the professor had once been a very good scholar. He just fell off the path somewhere and became obsessed with angels. Castiel put the book away a while later and must have drifted off. When he woke up, the pattern on the floor had been reworked, stretched out in the hallway- making it so the angel could appear to move freely through the house. “Morning Cas.” The professor smiled. “I have made some accommodations for you to mingle with our new people.” “Why?” castiel asked, defensively. “I want them to see how amazing you are.” Professor said, kissing castiels face. “Professor-” Castiel argued. “You’ll do fine.” The man replied, setting some clothes out for castiel to wear. He forced castiel out of his clothes, and rather roughly pulled new clothes on him. “Professor-” He protested. “I-its false worship.” Cas argued, “You know this! You read the books, you were well studied-” The man pushed him onto the bed, biting his neck. “You are mine- I worship that I do, Not that you are from the heavens.” Castiel closed his eyes. Clenching them shut. The professor let him up, and laughed. “You will always be mine.” Then, he left. Castiel chewed his lip, getting up. He was confused and conflicted. He wiped his neck- and his face, before seeing just how far he could walk.

[caredogstips]

In The Shadow Of Two Fangs: A Harrowing Tale Of Vampiric Terror

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You are at the library. Which book would you like to read?

Read The Dog Who Got Hit By A Car On The Moon, by Jeffis Kleen.

Read The Dog Who Got Hit By A Car On Mars, by Jeffis Kleen.

Read The Dog Who Got Hit By A Car On The Moon Again And It Was The Same Car, by Jeffis Kleen.

Excuse me, I think youll is my finding that that notebook is awfully boring and bad, says an old person standing behind you. Jeffis Kleen is a terrible columnist, and thats one of his worst volumes. I should know; Ive speak them all. You experience, Jeffis Kleen is my father. I am Leonardo Kleen.

Okay…

Well, I didnt really ask for your opinion, old person.

I like Jeffis Kleens works. He is a brilliant sci-fi writer who understands what it would be like for bird-dogs to get hit by cars on other planets.

Might I show another journal? I have a very special one in mind for you, as you seem like a special reader. Yes, you certainly do have a allure about you. An indisputable halo. You visualize, I dont give this volume out to precisely anyone. Its been in our collection for 100 times, and everyone who has read it has either shed themselves off a connection or be president. Now I am paying it to you…

Take the book.

Not much is known about the man who wrote it. It appears to be a diary of kinds , notable for the fact that it provides as the only subsisting historic report of the events which it claims to describe. Occasions that appear to have greatly affected the author, and indeed, “the worlds” itself.

He hands you the book, and you instantly notice that it odors strangely of garlic. Your hands tremble as you sit down at a nearby desk.

Open the book to the title page and begin to read…

June the fifth, eighteen hundred and ninety-six,

You arrive today in the hamlet of L—- after a lengthy excursion from the capital city, where you are a student at the University of K—-. The focus of your studies is discipline, people fatal blow to God. You pride yourself on your skepticism of the supernatural, and wear it proudly on your person in accordance with the arrangements of one of those Jesus fish patches that has hoofs and the word Darwin inside of it.

The purpose of your stay to L—-? A subject of the rich botanical offerings of the region, focusing primarily on the ones that reek really good. You will prevent this publication during your bide to document your sees, as well as anything of note that might pas. You do not plan to stay long, though this has nothing to do with the stories “youve heard” as small children about such regions of F—-, your beloved motherland. Legends of strange people that haunt the ground and know not fatality. None of this frightens you now, as you debark the civilize and leave the depot. You are a man of intellect. A scientist. You know that every phenomenon in this world can be explained with science. Even slugs.

Hello, kind tourist, enunciates an age-old villager standing outside the modest teach terminal. May I furnish you a ride into city on my as? He is a fast donkey. Most mules are slow, but mine is unusually speedy. You know why? He is afraid. We are all afraid here. Even donkeys, who are the dumbest of all Gods characters, can tell theres something wrong with this country. Something dreadful and decayed and exceedingly pointy.

What have you to fear, sir? Dont you know God is dead?

No, thank you, I will simply amble there by myself.

God help you.

Walk to township alone.

Oh, God is dead? Thats great report. One less circumstance for me to worry about. But “youre supposed” reminded, my friend. There are things worth horror more than God. Now, how about that mule travel, eh?

Pay the old-time villager for the ride into town.

I feel Ill simply move there on my own. Its precisely down the road, isnt it?

I frequently charge twenty gromels, but its on the house if you can educate my stupid son how to caress. My son has never kissed before in their own lives, and he is a complete and total embarrassment. Delight learn him how to make out so I no longer have to wake up every day and have my first made be, My son cant mack with the best of em.

Teach the age-old villagers son how to kiss.

This is my donkey. His appoint is Waterfalls. Please, climbing aboard, and Waterfalls and I will take you into town.

Climb into the cart.

I am the old-fashioned villagers son. I expend my daylights straying the countryside with my pup, and I cant kiss for poop. Kind stranger, will you learn me how to do the lip kindness I have heard so much about?

Sure.

Wonderful, speaks the old villagers son. I can practice it on my bird-dog. Now, how do I do it? Kissing, I symbolize?

Put your lips on it.

Smoosh your lips into the dog.

Delicately target your cheeks on the dogs face.

Follow your heart.

Slowly and romantically punch the dog with your lips.

Take your cheeks and deliver them to your hounds face.

Smooch that pooch.

The old-fashioned villagers son kiss the dog. Congratulations. You taught the villagers son how to kiss.

Youre welcome.

Thank you so much, species stranger! declares the old-fashioned villager. It is important to know how to make love. Otherwise you might have a make-out accident and croak. All right, come with me!

Go to the donkey cart.

The old-time villager lets you off at the hamlet tavern and razzes off into the fading light of day. Eventually, you have arrived! You pick up your suitcase and approach the inn.

Go inside.

You set off down the itinerary into town, suitcase in hand. Off to the side you find a particularly glorious botanical specimen, and you set about saving it in your journal.

Make an enter about the specimen in your journal.

Species: Flower Location: On the side of the road Smells: Pretty good

Wow, you think to yourself. Science is awesome!

Put your journal away and continue walking.

But the moment you elevate your head up from your periodical, you notice something deeply embarrassing. A sudden fog has expended the track onward. You have the strange feeling that you are being watched. A coldnes flows down your sticker. Your palms sweat. The mane on the back of your neck stands on end, then your limb whisker, chest fuzz, and pubic hair. Pretty soon all of your mane is standing on end, and it looks really weird. Three of your teeth fall out. Then, from behind, a spokesperson whisperings in your ear…

Good evening.

Scream and turn around.

Oh, what a grisly see! Standing before you is a terrifying mantled dame with fangs as long and as sharp-worded as spears. You look wide-eyed into the look of the wretched animal, clutching your Darwin patch, altogether petrified.

Theres something I should tell you, and its that Im a ogre! she roars in your appearance, her icing breath the rank odor of putrid chassis. And now Im going to do the vampire concept and eat all your blood! How about that, huh? How do you feel about that? Probably not very good!

Yes, you are correct. I do not feel better about that.

Thats impossible. I believe in science! And science answers vampires cant be real!

Oh, yeah. I forgot. Bye.

And with that, the ghoul withdraws into the forest, never to be seen again.

Wow. Science IS breathtaking!

You Utilized Science To Testify That Vampires Dont Exist!

Done already? Well, I suppose you used science to prove that vampires dont prevail. Well done! Science really is fucking awesome.

Return to Checkpoint.

Start over.

Start Over

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[ase-trollplays]

-- liberatedRaptor [LR] began pestering tapeFace [TF] --

-- liberatedRaptor [LR] began pestering tapeFace [TF] --

LR: why tape tho

TF: Because my voice hurts people. :c

TF: Taping my mouth stops me from hurting people by accident :D

LR: oh thats actually kinda sad

TF: It's not that bad once you get used to it. :) I never liked the sound of my voice anyways.

TF: So! Why don't we introduce ourselves! :D

TF: My name's Cacoph

LR: im Wynter

TF: :O Nice!

TF: It's good to meet you, Wynter :D

TF: So, how's your night going? :)

LR: ah all things considered id say its pretty good

LR: ive been walking since i got up tho which was hours ago

LR: im a little tired :v

TF: Yeah, I bet. D: I hope you're close to where ever it is you're walking to.

LR: still a few nights off but HEY i wont make progress if i dont work hard so

LR: i just keep looking forward to seeing my friends again

TF: Good luck! I'm sure they're all looking forward to seeing you again, too!

TF: I hope whatever separated you from them wasn't anything too awful or serious. :c

LR: eh

LR: so question

LR: if you cant speak because of your voice being dangerous

LR: do you sign? :O

TF: Yes I do! Though most of the time I end up using a white board.

TF: Not many people bother to learn sign language. :/

TF: I'm assuming you have, though :O

LR: i know sign!! :O ugh yeah i hate it, no one knows it so im always like "wtf"

TF: Oh, I know! DX I wish learning to sign was included in basic schoolfeeding like learning Alternian.

TF: Out of curiosity, what made you decide to learn sign language?

LR: uhhh its a long story that basically ends in "im mute"

TF: Wow, I've never come across a fellow mutie :o

TF: This calls for (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ～『✧~*SPECIAL EMOTES*~✧』

TF: Granted, I would have started using those eventually anyways. (◕ω◕✿)

TF: I lost track of the website I copy them from for a bit. (●︿●;;)

LR: thats cute wtf

LR: im lazy and never use things like that even though theyre adorable

TF: Thank you! (◠ω◠✿) I'm always worried they make me seem obnoxious or something, but they're just so much more fun and expressive! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

LR: im a firm believer that if someone finds you obnoxious then theyre just missing out

LR: be yaself

TF: Exactly! (ﾉ◠ヮ◠)ﾉ Who has time for that kind of negativity? Not this mime!

LR: YOURE A MIME

LR: oh my god

TF: Is that a good "oh my god" or a bad "oh my god"? (●﹏●✿)

LR: a good one lol

TF: (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ Great! I was worried for a second.

TF: Not many people enjoy mimes. (″･ิ_･ิ) I guess I remind them too much of the clowns.

LR: i mean i guess i could understand that

LR: but mimes are usually harmless so like

TF: It really sucks. ┐(‘～`；)┌ But what can you do other than keep on keeping on, right? (´･ω･`)

LR: yeah! thats a good way to look at it

LR: like

LR: fuck them

LR: lol

LR: you seem pretty cool either way

TF: ∩(◕//ω//◕)∩ Thanks!

TF: You seem pretty cool, too (✿◠ヮ◠)

LR: cool? im ice cold B)

LR: YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

-- tapeFace [TF] plays a sick ass guitar riff B3 --

TF: Also, can I just say I love your text color? (⊙△⊙✿) I'm a sucker for super bright pastels!

LR: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA thanks ^^ its really beautiful huh? it sounds like im trying to toot my own horn or something but just

LR: i could fuckin stare at it all night

LR: so like do you for reals stand outside all night and just mime at people

LR: what u do

TF: I actually work as a janitor at a library. (◕︿◕✿) It's not very fun, but miming on street corners doesn't keep me fed and sheltered.

TF: But on my nights off, you can find me in the park being a miming dork to my heart's content (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

LR: being a janitor sounds terrible RIP

TF: It is, but sometimes I get to have a little fun. ԅ(≖ω≖ԅ)

TF: The library I work at has a real problem with people doing the frick frack behind the bookshelves or under tables.

LR: Oh what the hell,

TF: My boss pays me extra to expose anyone I find.

TF: As mean as it is, I get a laugh out of ruining the mood for some people. (n゜ω゜n)

TF: Their expression are priceless when they realize they've been caught

TF: Though some of them get very angry and try to kill me. (⊙︿⊙✿)

LR: not surprised in the least

LR: but like...... why a library

LR: why would they fuck in a library

LR: BOOKS GET ME SO HOT

TF: Libraries have to be one of the unsexiest places, yet at least twice a month

TF: THERE THEY GO, HUMPING IN THE GEOGRAPHY SECTION

LR: JUST SLAM A BOOK CLOSED ON MY DICK JUST FUCKING DO IT

TF: The only thing worse than breaking up couples is people who bring in food and hide their food trash because then we get ANTS. (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻

TF: I CAN'T TYPE LOUD ENOUGH ABOUT HOW MUCH I HATE ANTS.

TF: Just looking at one makes my skin crawl! {{p´Д｀q}}

LR: ugh ants are such a gross hassle

LR: especially trying to figure out where they come from??

LR: how the fuck did they get in

TF: I don't know but they need to STOP ( ≧Д≦)

TF: They're the absolute worst and I hate having to get rid of them! They're so little and they get everywhere, and they have the nerve to bite!

TF: And it's hard to be sure you got all of them because they're so small and they completely disappear on carpet (┳Д┳)

LR: plus the leave that gross chemical trail for other ants to follow

LR: eugh

TF: ((brb))

TF: UUUUuuuugh, literally everything about them is awful (╬ Ò﹏Ó)

LR: id say i hate spiders more tbh

TF: I honestly don't mind them too much (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) the small ones are adorable

TF: Jumping spiders give me a fright, though (●︿●✿) I don't mess with those.

LR: all spiders terrify me

LR: its dumb

LR: even the harmless ones

LR: they just got too many legs.................

TF: Eugh, I can understand that. (●﹏●✿) Centipedes creep me out for the same reason.

LR: fffffffffffffffUCK those things

LR: fuck all things with more than four legs

TF: Some things with more than four legs are so cute though! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ Like ladybugs and butterflies and praying mantises

LR: one of those things is not like the other

TF: One of those things just doesn't belong? /(●△●✿)\

TF: I think praying mantises have an underappreciated cuteness to them. (´◡ω◡`) And it's so funny watching them chop at things (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ

LR: i watched a video of one give birth to a terrible parasite that drove it to seek out water and drown itself

TF: (⊙︿⊙) ...

TF: (´＿｀。) They can't always be cute

LR: its a darn shame too

TF: That poor thing. （；￣д￣） Who would even film that? It sounds awful

LR: apparently its common

LR: hairworms?

TF: Yikes. (◕﹏◕)

TF: That kind of make me think of those flies that infect bees.

TF: I hope those never adapt to infect grubs or something. (⊙﹏⊙)

LR: THAT

LR: IS TERRIFYING

TF: I KNOW RIGHT??

TF: I MEAN WE'RE BASICALLY SUPER EVOLVED BUGS

LR: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

TF: (⊙∩⊙✿) I immediately regret this line of thought. I made a terrible mistake

LR: i regret your line of thought too

LR: i am

LR: scarred for life

TF: THEN HOW ABOUT A NICE UNSCARRING SUBJECT? (ﾉ⊙ヮ⊙)ﾉ

TF: Do you have any quadrants you're looking forward to seeing?

LR: YAS

LR: i miss my mate and my moirail

LR: and some fucker who is sorta my kismesis but like

LR: its complicated?

LR: noncommittal "eh?" sound

TF: (◕△◕)Oh wow, you have so much going on.

TF: What's your sorta-but-not-really kismesis like?

LR: hes a dick but also i guess hes attractive? i think? im not actually sure

LR: i dont really feel that way about people so its hard to tell

LR: i guess he looks good

LR: BUT YEAH were just

LR: dicks to each other all the time

TF: Sounds like fun (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

TF: What about your matesprit and your moirail?

LR: oh my god so my matesprit is literally the coolest person in the fucking universe (no offense to you Cacoph cuz youre up there) and shes cute and she bakes a lot and shes good at it and she has her OWN BAKERY (which i work at) and she memes on me all the time and we just have so much in common

LR: she makes my heart do the backflip things

TF: (ㄒoㄒ) Oh my god, that's so sweet! You sound like the cutest couple

LR: yeah except i never told her i was going anywhere and its been two weeks i think so shes probably angry as fuck

LR: shes gonna rip my face off when i come back

TF: WELP

TF: It was nice knowing you

TF: Your memory will live on forever in this chatlog

LR: here lies Wynter: their mate fucking murdered them with a glare

TF: Killed before their time, they will be missed. (◡︿◡,✿)

TF: Did you at least tell your moirail?

LR: yeah

TF: Good, so you won't be double dead once they see you again. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ

TF: I really hope you can smooth things over with your matesprit once you see her again. (◕︿◕) It's really gonna suck if you lose her.

LR: YEAH IM PRETTY SURE ID JUST

LR: DIE

LR: ON THE SPOT

TF: PLEASE DON'T DIE ヽ(´□｀。)ﾉ WE ONLY JUST MET

LR: RIP,,,,

LR: two weeks is the longest ive gone without video games

LR: im dying

TF: What kind of video games do you play? (◕△◕✿)

LR: anything i can get my soulless little hands on

TF: That's a lot of games probably (✿◕△◕)~★

TF: I mostly just play casual things like Stardew Valley, Minecraft, and Lusus Crossing

LR: i do all of those things

LR: an also COD and Halo and Overwatch

TF: I tried playing COD, but the online players were so rude and negative. (≖︿≖✿) I doubt a single one of them was older than six.

TF: I haven't tried the other games you mentioned, though

LR: you should try :O Overwatch is super fun

TF: Really (◕△◕✿) What's it like? I see memes and fanart all the time on bubblr, but does it really live up to the hype?

LR: its grossly addictive

LR: and you get matched with people of similar skill so when you first start out you probably wont run into the gross types that play COD because theyre just starting out as well

TF: That sounds great (◕ω◕✿) It'll be nice not to have wrigglers screaming at me to git gud just because I haven't poured my entire existence into the game

TF: Does it run better on hisktop, or should I get it for the game system? (◕△◕✿)

LR: i play it on console but i believe theres a bigger playbase on husktop

LR: i would suggest only getting it on husktop if you have an external mouse

TF: Alright then, husktop it is. (◕‿◕✿)

TF: Eugh, that emote didn't come out well (◕﹏◕✿)

LR: o vo

TF: ⊙v⊙

LR: oh god

TF: ಠ_ಠ I'm suddenly very bad at emotes.

TF: why this

LR: cant always be good at it

LR: what about you, you got any quads youre gogo for?

TF: No, sadly not. (◡︿◡✿) I've had crushes, but they never amounted to anything

TF: On a whim, I signed up for a matchmaking thing just for curiosity's sake, and I got matched with a highblood. ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ

LR: oh shit highbloods dawg

TF: I'm actually pretty nervous. Looking over his profile, he seems really grumpy and serious. (●﹏●✿)

LR: oh shit x2

LR: good luck

TF: Thanks, I'm gonna need it. ヽ(°ロ°)ﾉ

TF: I had a lot of fun chatting with you! (◕ω◕✿) Unfortunately, I need to get going.

LR: oh sure

LR: lemme know how ya date goes!

TF: Will do, friendo! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ Good luck making it back to your friends and quadmates!

-- tapeFace [TF] ceased pestering liberatedRaptor [LR] --