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chiming-bluebells · 17 days ago

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༘⋆ ꙳ the glade ; day 862 of the maze trials. ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ˚｡

˖˙ ᰋ ⋆ ˚ ⊹ യ *◞ ˚ ꕀ .*

GROUP A , TRIAL i. : THE MAZE. ꕤ the grass is lush and slightly scratchy beneath her as she reclines down on her back. lexi, ever the lounging-happy med-jack, is soaking up the warmth of the sun during her lunch break, a soft breeze ruffling her hair where she lays. the air is thick with the scent of sunbaked pasture and warm soil; distant sounds of shrieking laughter, rythmic clanking of porcelain dishes, and casual conversations echoes over the tree tops in the glade. the sky overhead is an endless, brilliant blue… it almost makes her forget about the towering ivy walls surrounding her. almost.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ᨳ

i , GINGER AND BARK : ginger the cat struts along the edge of the maze. he’s on a mission. bark the-non-barking-dog follows him anxiously, tugging the stubborn feline’s fluffed-up tail in protest. ginger sits down, having finally found himself his perfect waiting spot right in front of the opened maze doors. he’s waiting for a certain glader, minho. his little cat brain plotting and scheming. (maybe minho will come back from his run soon….. maybe minho will give them some food….. maybe minho doesn’t know that they were just fed by zart 20 minutes ago…...)

no glader pay the farm animals any mind in the hustle and bustle of the workday. they’re used to them by now. the cat and the dog have been there since… well, forever; since before the first ever gladers came up in the box. one might wonder if the pets arrived in the box they themselves, all alone to fend for themselves in a strange new environment, or if they’ve simply always existed - and will always exist - in the grassy meadows of the glade. like some sort of mythical, immortal beings.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ᨳ

ii , HOMESTEAD : the shabby, raggedy old thing leans like the tower of pisa. and somehow, til this day, it’s still standing. what really ties the whole damned thing together is the bottle tree outside next to the decrepit porch. and probably the (amateurishly and unnecessary) added sections by the builders. much like ginger and bark, the homestead has always been there in all of its water-damaged glory. sometimes it feels haunted. especially late at night, when it creaks and groans like it’s alive and angry that it is.

humble and simple bedrooms exist for the lucky few bastards who managed to get first dibs on those. the rest sleep in hammocks or sleeping bags on the dew-covered grass outside. gladers dine al-fresco. the reason gladers don’t dine inside? see the following sitting rule, which exists for a reason: ”doors with high thresholds are called windows, and you’re not allowed to walk through those.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ᨳ

iii , FRAGMENTS OF ITS SOUL : ⋆ found and forged family ⋆ dustmotes swirling in the air ⋆ long, golden rays of sunshine ⋆ crickets singing in the evening air ⋆ muffled laughter from the next room ⋆ drunken crowds singing in unison ⋆ the scent of warm summer rain ⋆ naps in green fields and underneath swaying branches ⋆ dragonflies ⋆ wishing upon dandelions ⋆ fragile, yet stubborn hope ⋆ deafening, metallic groans from the shifting maze walls ⋆ ivy ⋆ scent of wood ⋆ bonfires ⋆ late nights sitting on the porch ⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ᨳ

iv , TUNES :

*◞ i know the end by phoebe bridgers

*◞ youth by daughter

*◞ hela huset by veronica maggio

*◞ back to the old house by the smiths

*◞ in the woods somewhere by hozier

*◞ wildflower and barley by hozier, allison russell

100 notes · View notes

littlemissshifter · 4 months ago

Text

༺𓆩༒︎𓆪༻

⚠︎ ᴵᴺᵀᴿᴼ ⚠︎

ᖴᑌTᑌᖇIᔕTIᑕ ᑕᖇ

↬𝐴𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑦 𝐵𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐶𝑅 𝑜𝑟 𝐶𝑦𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑝𝑢𝑛𝑘 𝐶𝑅. 𝑆𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑛 2561.

✶⋆.˚

ᑭᖇEᐯIEᗯ -

𝐴𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐴𝐼 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑜𝑙𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 2200𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑎𝑑𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑒𝑐ℎ𝑛𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑟𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑙 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙. 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒. 𝑉𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑔𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑥𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑡, 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜��𝑒 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑠𝑜𝑐𝑖𝑒𝑡𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑡 𝑜𝑛. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝑒𝑐ℎ𝑛𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐸𝑎𝑟𝑡ℎ 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

ᗯEᒪᑕOᗰE TO ETᕼEᖇIᔕ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

IᑎTᖇOᗪᑌᑕTIOᑎ -

𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆 - 𝑅𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑅ℎ𝑎𝑧𝑒𝑠

𝑨𝒈𝒆 - 16

𝒀𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝑩𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉 - 2545

𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑹𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 - 𝑆𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑜𝑟 84, 𝑁𝑂𝑉𝐴-1

𝑺/𝒐 - (𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑑)

𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝑻𝒚𝒑𝒆 - 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑐 𝐺𝑜𝑜𝑑

𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 - 𝐾𝑖𝑛𝑑, 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑐, 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡, 𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒, 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑡-𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑡, 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒, ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑠.

𝑯𝒐𝒃𝒃𝒊𝒆𝒔 - 𝑃𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑜 𝑔𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠, 𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑎𝑡 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑎𝑟𝑑, 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑙 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑒𝑡, 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑐, 𝑖𝑛𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑚𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠 𝑏𝑦 𝑢𝑛𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠.

𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒔 - 𝑀𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑐, ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑎𝑟𝑑, 𝑑𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠, ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠, 𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑙, 𝑡𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑠, ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑎𝑡.

𝑫𝒊𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒔 - 𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑦, 𝑠𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑙 𝑡𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑠, 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑜𝑟𝑠, 𝑛𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑧𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑝𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒, 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑦.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

ᗯᕼᗩTᔕ TᕼE ᖴᑌTᑌᖇE ᒪIKE? . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

ᴡʜᴀᴛ's ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇsᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀᴇ?

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑐𝑖𝑟𝑐𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑎𝑟𝑑. 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑔𝑜 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑛𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠. 𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑙, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 /𝑎𝑟𝑒/ 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝐼'𝑚 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼'𝑚 𝑑𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑡 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡. 𝐼 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑤 426-𝐺𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑐 𝐴𝑑𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑜 𝑔𝑎𝑚𝑒! 𝐼 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦 𝑖𝑡 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑚𝑦 𝑚𝑜𝑚'𝑠 𝑡𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑒 𝐻𝐴𝐻𝐴. 𝐿𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑚 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑙 𝑡𝑜 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑎𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡?

ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ sᴘᴀᴄᴇ ᴛʀᴀᴠᴇʟ ᴀᴛ ᴀʟʟ?

𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑙 𝑜𝑛 𝑆𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠. 𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎 𝑏𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟. 𝑀𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝐼 𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑚 𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑑𝑎𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟. 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑠𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝 𝑡𝑜 𝐴𝑋-56. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑙𝑦. 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑎 𝑓𝑒𝑤 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙. 𝐼 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑠𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒.

ɪs ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪsʟɪᴋᴇ?

𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑙 𝑡𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑠. 𝐼 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑢𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑠𝑜 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑠 𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑦.

ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴀᴄʜɪɴᴇs?

𝐼 𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐸 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚. 𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘! 𝐴𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐼 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑢𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝐼 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑖𝑛𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑜𝑜𝑙. 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑠.

ᴡᴇʟʟ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ᴅ ʙᴇ ᴀʟʟ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.

𝐴𝑤𝑤 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦? 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑢𝑛. 𝐻𝑒𝑦! 𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑜 𝑠𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑙? 𝐼 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦'𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑡ℎ 𝑏𝑎𝑦 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑡'𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑁𝑂𝑉𝐴-1!!

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

ᗯᕼᗩT ᗩᑎ OᖇᗪEᗩᒪ! . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

𝐻𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝐴𝑢𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑝ℎ𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢��𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑎𝑑𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒!

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sossolei · 4 months ago

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. . . . an interlude to my fame reality

━━━━ BASICS ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

est. 2003

Sólaire, Hollywood’s recent obsession has taken the industry by storm. At first with her debut film “Overmorrow” co-starring Matthew McConughay and Kate Winslet, which surpassed James Cameron’s “Titanic” on the list of the highest grossing films of all time. Then her work with Leonardo DiCaprio as the lead in his directorial debut, “Red Vice,” as the lead female character, and today, the young actress is rumored to be Sophia Coppola’s newest muse for her upcoming film.

But it didn’t always start off like this. In fact, Sólaire has always been open and honest with the fact that she didn’t even take an acting class before auditioning for “Overmorrow.”

SÓLAIRE: It was a complete accident, really. My friend was auditioning and there were, maybe, three people in the room? So, as a joke she said I should just walk in and try and…well, here we are!

INTERVIEWER: Are you still friends with that person?

S: Absolutely not.

Alongside her Hollywood take over, Sólaire’s fashion and aesthetic has made her palatable to many niche spaces on the internet that have welcomed her with open arms and armor of protection. A few of these include enjoyers of “coquette” fashion, various anime communities, and even fans of K-Pop have found themselves standing behind the actress as much as their favs.

Despite her fame, Sólaire wears the term “fan girl” like a badge of honor. Her many interests include K-pop (specifically Enhypen, Twice, IVE, and Kiss of Life), anime/manga, Marvel/DC, video games, Chase Atlantic, all things book related, F1 and other sports.

She has embraced the fame as it comes to her and is spoken highly of by many colleagues, fellow co-stars, and industry workers alike.

S: People work hard for this kinda thing, you know? And it was just an insane series of coincidences that I was able to break through this industry on my legitimate first try (laughs). So, even if I don’t feel up to it or whatever, I take a moment every single day to be grateful for every opportunity and every challenge I’m faced with.

━━━━ PERSONAL LIFE ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Sólaire prefers to maintain a very private life with a close knit circle of friends. Her immediate friends were made in high school and college, while her more well known friends include Marsai Martin, Wonyoung (IVE), Sabrina Carpenter, Natty (Kiss of Life), and Olivia Rodrigo. These friends are often scattered amongst her Instagram and TikTok’s, making the actress feel more relatable to fans.

As much as the young actress tries to protect her privacy, paparazzi can be relentless in their pursuits of uncovering gold, and in Sólaire’s case, that is exactly what it is.

In October 2023, she and the star player of the New Jersey Devils, Jack Hughes were seen getting cozy after a game, of which she had been in attendance. The couple didn’t make their relationship official until June of 2023 in spicy and loving summer boat pictures posted to both of their main social media.

SÓLAIRE: I was plotting on that man from the first time I saw him. I just knew I was gonna get that and surprise, surprise, I did it again. Maybe I should make a book on how to manifest (she laughs).

INTERVIEWER: How is the long distance working for you guys? Is it hard with the hockey schedule and acting schedule conflicts?

S: Sometimes, but we usually work together on that kinda thing. I’ll take time to see him in New Jersey or he’ll come visit the film set, it can be fun, actually. And then the summers are usually ours!

━━━━ PLAYLIST ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

LONG WAY 2 GO , Cassie

DO NOT TOUCH , MISAMO

GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE SOME , Chromatics

NEVER LOSE ME , Flo Milli

MINISKIRT , AOA

MOONLIGHT , Kali Uchis

SLIDE , Chase Atlantic

LIKE A TATTOO , Sade

#solshifts🔅#reality shifting #shifting antis dni #shifting diary #shiftblr #shifters #shifting community #shifting motivation #shifting storytime #shiftingrealities #fame dr #actress dr #fame shifting #actress shifting #dr intro #fame dr introduction

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girlberrie · 2 months ago

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i'll give you my best side, tell you all my best lies

yeah, awesome, right?

( homemade dynamite, lorde )

🂱 golden trio reality introduction………..:::

born to ada tombs and a father of unknown whereabouts on the 26th of july 1980, alie tombs has always had the soul of an adventurer. the metamorphmagus would always find a way to wander off, which her mother got used to only after the girl (at the age of eight) had gone off to investigate some shiny pebbles on the pavement for the tenth time in the week (it was tuesday). alie has never been a good friend for the faint of the heart——always purposefully inserting herself into some mess, some sort of adventure, and laughing in the concerned faces of her loved ones afterwards.

‘i wouldn’t have done it if i was unprepared!’ she would exclaim.

well, alie, your mother who has barely lived a third of her very long witch lifespan doesn’t know that, does she? …………………..moving on.

alie has always seemed like she was a little bit of god a little bit of angel and a little bit of human combined. she has always been powerful and she has always been weird as fuck. ‘she talks to the bloody bugs in the bloody forbidden forest!’ said ron weasley, probably. ‘leave her be!’ responded hermione granger or luna lovegood in wildly different tones, probably. the girl is so keen on mapping the entire forbidden forest that she created a spell to read her books out loud to only her so that she can get into trouble without losing out on reading time. she has incredible potential to be a prankster, which the weasley twins definitely plan on doing something with. she loves a little bit of a curse, a little bit of a hex, a jinx, which draco malfoy unfortunately knows about (she hates his guts! for good reason too!).

she is also ridiculously curious about most things for a gryffindor, which caught the attention of one tom riddle (more on that later). she wants to study whatever magic has to offer, similar to how physicists study subatomic particles in CERN. she wants to investigate all things archaic, to explore, to understand….. it is no surprise that she wants to be an archeologist (or curse breaker. more or less the same thing. more on that later too, but perhaps another day).

despite the divided opinions on her personality, most can agree that she is free in a way most people aren’t: she does whatever she wants and makes sure nobody can say anything about it. how people say it….. well that differs. professor snape prefers the word ‘impertinent’. her best friends, ron and hermione prefer ‘daring’. her arch-nemesis tom riddle prefers ‘reckless’ or ‘headstrong’ or ‘madcap’. he finds her amusing. actually, lets get onto whatever’s going on with those two, shall we?

you see, alie tombs met draco malfoy at madam malkin’s robes for all occasions in diagon alley before even getting on the train to hogwarts and promptly decided that she would NOT be sorted into slytherin, against all odds if needed. and the odds were that the sorting hat was very keen on sorting her into the damn snake den, but she said ‘no’ and the hat miraculously listened. what does this have anything to do with tom riddle and alie tombs, you say? well. tom riddle has slytherin energy vibrating out of his every single strand of hair perfectly gelled into place. and alie tombs? well, you would never think that the hat wanted her in slytherin——she is courageous and determined like nobody else. tom and alie? they’ve always butted heads. not in the way draco and alie have, no, this has always meant a bit more. always striking up an argument in the hallways, trying to one up each other in classes, irritating each other willingly so that they can have the others eye on them for longer, to have each others attention for a couple more minutes. they’ve been obsessed with each other for longer than they like to admit.

she likes his hair and his stupid smug smirk and hates his hair and stupid smug smirk. she wants to punch him with a kiss. she wants to make him trip with a jinx so that she can see his exasperatedly-amused-but-also-slightly-irritated face. she wants to say a bold-faced-lie to him just to see him raise that perfect eyebrow and to have him amusedly question her with that tone of his that annoys her so much. he likes her pretty laughter and the mischief that twinkles in her eyes and hates her pretty laughter and the mischief that twinkles in her eyes. he wants to cast the tickling charm on her just to hear her shocked laughter and to face the brunt of her prickly attitude afterwards. its all very lovesick and obsessive and they’re annoying freaks for the rest of hogwarts castle, because how are they not fucking already???????

let us pray that they get their shit together soon. there are many bets placed already .

the dumbass but also very smart, reckless but somehow formulates plans from a to z the moment things go terribly wrong, favorite colour is pink but her patronus is a crow energy of my dr self is quite difficult to write, but here’s to hoping that this introduction was nice enough. i got inspired and wanted to share a bit about it hahah. i’ve been focusing a lot on my other hogwarts reality on this tumblr but i can never forget this reality. i’m genuinely unhinged here. its very fun. i’ll be signing off now…………… BYE

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gothcowgrrl · 6 days ago

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𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑵𝑵𝑨’𝑺 𝑾𝑨𝑳𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑫 𝑫𝑹

“𝙞 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡.”

THE BEGINNING.

before everything fell apart, I was a medical student. training to be a paramedic — fast, focused, and good under pressure. i never finished. the world ended before i got the chance.

i survived the first wave of the outbreak on my own. i couldn’t stay anywhere near my college or my dorm, it was a death trap, so i moved on. i ended up living out of a tent, stitching myself up with with a cracked mirror and fishing line. that’s where negan found me — deep in the woods, half-starved but alive. he took me in. said i had potential. said i was too stubborn to die.

he taught me everything i needed to know to survive — how to move quietly, how to kill cleanly, how to read people before they became a threat. with him, survival wasn’t just instinct; it was strategy. he made me sharper, harder, more focused. the world didn’t have room for hesitation anymore — mercy would get me killed faster than any walker.

it wasn’t really a choice to become a savior, it was that or death, that’s negan’s rules. i worked mostly as a medic, sometimes joined in on raids. i never liked the way things worked — the punishments, the fear — but i understood it. this was survival, not civilization. and sometimes surviving means becoming the thing you swore you wouldn’t.

negan and i didn’t happen right away. it built over time. quiet moments. looks that lasted too long. eventually it turned into something real. physical. emotional. secret. i was never one of his wives — those came later. i like to think it’s because he missed what we had.

some people didn’t like how close i was with him. said i got “special treatment.” maybe i did. either way, it made me a target.

on a run with five others, they turned on me. left me for dead in an abandoned parking lot full of walkers. i never knew why exactly — jealousy, maybe. or just the excuse they needed. what i didn’t know at the time was that negan found out. and he killed every single one of them for it.

but i didn’t go back. i didn’t trust it. part of me even thought maybe negan had set it up — that maybe i’d became too much of a distraction for him. either way, i decided i was better off on my own.

the next day, i found carl — or he found me. we crossed paths in a half-looted town, and i saved him from a walker. old instincts, i guess. he insisted i come with him. said i didn’t deserve to be alone. rick wasn’t sure, but i saved his son. so he let me in.

(WO)MAN’S BEST FRIEND.

the sun beat down hard as we walked, the three of us — rick, carl, and me — moving quietly along the railway tracks toward what we hoped was a sanctuary: terminus. rick had that sharp, wary look in his eyes that never really left, but carl seemed happy for me to be there, getting to know me and giving me that cheeky grin whenever we’d play around. rick didn’t say much, but he’d smile at us getting along from time to time.

it was late afternoon when we spotted her. a skinny, mud-caked saint bernard crouched beside the trees on the side of the tracks, ribs showing through her coat, eyes sharp and cautious. rick raised his hand, and we froze. i stepped forward, slowly, speaking low, trying to soothe her. she didn’t bark, didn’t run. just watched me, tail between her legs. i reached into my pack and tossed her a bit of dried jerky. that was all it took — she followed us after that, keeping a few feet of distance at first, like she was testing us. by the next morning, she was curled up next to my sleeping bag.

i named her bennie, after “bennie and the jets.” it was on one of the five cds i carried, tucked safely in my backpack next to a scratched-up walkman which i found in the attic of an abandoned house at the beginning of it all. it was collecting dust way before the outbreak. i barely used it anymore — except on nights i couldn’t sleep, or when i felt alone. bennie took to the name fast, her ears perking up every time i called. she wasn’t just a dog — she was a force. fiercely loyal, she’d growl low at anything that got too close, and more than once she chased off a walker before any of us even noticed it. but she had this gentler side too — nudging my hand for scratches or standing guard while i rested. it was like she’d been waiting her whole life to belong to someone, and i was it.

OLD FRIENDS.

we went to hilltop with jesus, and that’s when i heard the name again — the saviors.

it hit me like a buried landmine. i didn’t react. didn’t flinch. just nodded along while they talked about strategy, about defense, about raiding an outpost. no one here knew. not rick. not daryl. not even glenn. i had made sure of that.

i stayed silent. i didn’t warn them. didn’t tell them i used to be one of them.

the group moved forward with the plan, thinking they were striking first. taking out a threat before it grew. i told myself maybe it would work. maybe negan wouldn’t find out. maybe the people i cared about wouldn’t have to pay for what i once was.

but that’s not how things go in this world.

later, i went out on a run with daryl and denise. edison’s was supposed to be the target, a shop we figured would be stocked with medicine. just another supply run, nothing out of the ordinary.

until we hit the tracks.

one second, denise was talking. the next, she dropped. arrow through the eye. no warning. no goodbye.

and then i saw them, some of my old friends, and a blonde one (dwight) at the front i didn’t recognise with a terrified eugene next to him.

“if it ain’t negan’s princess,” one said, shock evident on his voice, but a smirk still spreading across his face.

daryl looked at me. really looked. and in that split second, the lie I’d been living unraveled in his eyes.

but after eugene bites dwight in the crotch, and abraham opens fire. with an injured eugene, somehow we made it out.

later, daryl asked. quietly, like he already knew.

i told him the truth — about negan, about who i’d been, what i’d done to survive. how i left. how i tried to become someone new.

he didn’t judge me. didn’t tell the others. just nodded and said, “you’re here now. that’s what matters.”

REUNITED.

we went after dwight — me, daryl, glenn, michonne. we wanted justice. instead, we got captured. thrown into a van like cargo.

at the same time, rick’s group was trying to get maggie to hilltop due to a sudden unknown illness. they never made it. the saviors were waiting.

they were all brought together, made to kneel in the dirt. hands empty. surrounded by guns. and then the van doors opened.

they dragged us out — me, glenn, daryl, michonne — and threw us on our knees beside the others.

it felt strange — unreal, almost. i was so used to watching this kind of thing unfold from the outside. always on the sidelines, half-numb to the screams, the blood, the begging. detached. but now, on my knees in the dirt, center stage in someone else’s nightmare, i felt every second of it. the fear. the weight.

i looked around. faces i knew stared back — some with guilt in their eyes, others with something colder, like they thought I had this coming. and maybe i did. either way, i wasn’t invisible anymore.

then he stepped out.

he looked the same. like time hadn’t touched him. same cocky grin, same leather jacket. same barbed wire bat resting on his shoulder like it was nothing more than a fashion accessory.

“are we pissin’ our pants yet? oh boy… do i have a feeling we’re gettin’ close”

he scanned the group, then saw me.

“oh my… and look at who we have here,” he said, grinning. “lookin’ pretty as ever, vi.”

i didn’t move. didn’t answer. my heart was hammering, but i kept my face blank.

“damn,” he said, amused. “after all this, you’re givin’ me the silent treatment?”

i said nothing.

he moved on, turning his attention to rick. gave his speech about punishment, about the new world order. about taking what was his — including us.

then, he looked at me once again. “now don’t you worry, honey. you just gotta sit and look pretty. actually, get your ass up here. c’mon. don’t be shy now.”

i stood. walked when he told me to. knelt again where he placed me — right in the middle of the circle, facing my friends. “only the best seat in the house for you,” he muttered into my ear, before getting up, patting my head and pacing once more.

he started playing his sick little game — picking someone to kill. toying with us like we were just names on a list, like none of this mattered. he threatened maggie, mocked carl. glenn lost it, screaming, lunging — couldn’t help himself.

negan didn’t care. just smiled. had his men shove glenn back in line.

then came the eeny-meeny-miny-moe.

i held my breath. everyone did.

and then… he picked abraham.

the sound was like a watermelon cracking open. i flinched, but didn’t look away. i owed him that — to see it. to remember it.

then daryl snapped. jumped up, punched negan square in the jaw. it was instinct — grief, rage, all of it spilling out.

negan didn’t even yell. just turned, calm as ever, and brought the bat down again. this time, on glenn.

it was worse. he didn’t die right away. tried to speak. his last look was to maggie — not fear, not pain. just love.

and then he was gone too.

the screams around me blurred into a low, hollow ringing. i couldn’t hear myself think. couldn’t feel anything but the dirt beneath my knees and the blood splattered on my cheek. i didn’t even know whose it was.

rick was dragged into the rv. negan wanted to break him. and when that didn’t work, he came back out with rick's axe and made carl lie on the ground. said if he didn’t cut off his son’s arm, everyone else would die.

that’s when i lost it. started sobbing, couldn't help it.

he turned to me slowly, grin lazy. "why so sad? Is this your prince charming?” he looked at rick.

i didn’t answer. just stared at rick, tears running down my face. i’d never seen him like that — broken, helpless.

negan leaned down to me, his voice low. “well i'll be damned. you’ve got a front row seat seein’ him chop his own son’s arm off.”

rick was shaking. hands barely gripping the axe. he raised it — just enough. it was real. it was going to happen.

then negan stopped him. “there it is,” he muttered. “that look. that’s what i wanted.”

satisfied, he turned to me again. crouched, close enough to smell the blood on his collar.

“how pathetic was that, huh?” he whispered, smiling.

i didn’t say anything, just spat in his face.

he paused, wiped it off with the back of his glove, then laughed. “still got fire. i like that.”

then he stood, declared his terms — one week, half of everything alexandria had. resistance meant death.

as a final cruelty, he took daryl with him. and me.

“this one’s coming home,” he said, grabbing my arm. “a souvenir.”

daryl and i were tossed into a van, and took to the sanctuary without a word.

FAMILIARITY.

they dragged daryl away first — kicking, yelling, refusing to go quietly. i could still hear him as they pulled me in the opposite direction. i wanted to fight too, but i didn’t. not because i was afraid of pain, but because i knew negan wanted a reaction. i wasn’t giving him what he wanted — not yet.

they didn’t throw me in a cell like daryl. no, he got that special kind of punishment. the kind where they stripped you of everything — your clothes, your name, your humanity. they blasted music until your mind frayed, fed you like a dog, tried to break you until there was nothing left.

me? I was chained to a damn bed.

negan’s room. his sanctuary. i was his trophy now — a reminder of his power, of what i used to be, and what he thought i still belonged to. he never laid a hand on me in that way, but every moment felt like something sacred was being scraped away. he didn’t need violence to break you — just time. words. familiarity. he was patient, like a wolf that already knew you’d limp eventually.

and i did.

not all at once. not loudly. just… little things. like how i started answering him when he talked. how i started listening when he told his stories. how i didn’t flinch when he laughed.

“you look good,” he said once, his voice low and easy like none of this was what it was. “still got that little edge to you. didn’t think i’d ever see it again.”

i looked at him then, as i sat on the same side of the bed i had been on for days. really looked. and for the first time, i didn’t just see the monster who swung that bat. i saw the man i once followed without question. the one who could talk circles around a lie. the one who, for a long time, made me feel safe.

“you thought i was dead,” i said flatly. it wasn’t a question.

his face shifted. just a little. “yeah. i did.” he stood up from his chair and walked across the room, slow like he was figuring out if he wanted to say more.

“five of them left with me,” i said. “you remember?”

he turned, and for a second — just one — there was something sharp behind his eyes. not rage. not sadness. something different but familiar at the same time. “yeah,” he said. “i remember.”

there was a beat. then another.

“i killed them,” he added, taking a sip from his whiskey like he was telling me what the weather was like outside. “when they came back without you. figured if you really left me, they helped. if you didn’t… well. they still failed.”

i nodded, not saying another word.

and just like that, the line between fear and familiarity blurred. between loyalty and love and something far darker than both. that was always the thing about negan — he made you feel wanted in a way that twisted the knife deeper.

( updates as i watch the show last update: 17.07.25 )

dramatised for entertainment purposes

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shiftingwithjaidyn · 11 months ago

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i'm so tired of being disconnected from reality yet still continue being stuck in it

i feel like a mouse running on a wheel that never ends to spin.

i just want to go home.

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oretskov · 1 month ago

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𝜗𝜚 you won't lose me to thunder or lightning ࿔

since my followers of absolutely zero, a.k.a, no one, asked — here's everything you need to know about bat from this mediocre reality !

wow! a blog where i can openly talk about myself and all my others lives and be neurodivergent-ly free? *holding butterfly* is this a sanctuary?

so — who am i? i go by bat here but i may reveal some of my other dr names here and there. there's a trend of having names beginning with T, R or A in my drs since i feel like they're all variations of my cr name. i'm nineteen and a desi girl. pronouns are she/they but honestly my gender is 'pls see me for me and not what's under my pants'. i am a writer (if anyone wants, i can share my fanfic blog) and also been part of the editing community since 2018!

i'm a proud and almost stereotypical intj, though i don't know chess as well as beth harmon. i'm a ravenclaw (shocker) and if i were in camp half-blood, i'd be an ares kid who disowns that side of her to become a hunter of artemis. scorpio sun, cancer moon and aquarius rising — GOD i'm a caricature of a brooding weird girl in a film probably well loved by incels. yes, i have ocd.

my holy trinity is vivienne westwood, shelley duvall and stevie nicks — don't ask me how i was doing on december 29th, 2022 and july 11th, 2024. the only men i truly like are kurt cobain, jeff buckley, gerard way and tobias forge.

okay rapid fire round ! here's majority of every piece of media that i like.

wallows. fleetwood mac. nct. ghost. ethel cain. nirvana. the cure. hozier. fiona apple. sturniolo triplets. dylan is in trouble. sinjin drowning. slushy noobz. danny, kurtis, drew. brittany broski. hthaze. watcher. daisy jones & the six. harry potter. narnia. alchemy of souls. titans. x-men. avatar. assassination classroom. extraordinary you. scream. spiderverse. the maze runner. tokyo revengers. the queen's gambit. alien stage. five nights at freddy's. resident evil. a good girl's guide to murder. dc comics. grishaverse. the last of us. hadestown. heathers. mobile legends: bang bang. babel. wicked.

i know i already mentioned the grishaverse in there but i love it so much that it needs its own paragraph. my favourite ship ever is alina & mal. my username is a combination of their surnames. this account was originally a side blog for them. i quote the shadow and bone trilogy like it's the bible. it's so perfect to me that i don't dare shift there — it doesn't need a single bit of change. rain ghoul is my mal <3

𝜗𝜚 but you could to crowded rooms ࿔

my top four on letterboxd are easy a (2010), about time (2013), real steal (2011) & before sunset (2004). here are some characters i relate to heavily —

✶ malia tate. teen wolf.

✶ violet harmon. american horror story.

✶ jo march. little women.

✶ beth harmon. the queen's gambit.

✶ harry potter. harry potter.

✶ karen sirko. daisy jones & the six.

✶ stephen strange. marvel cinematic universe.

✶ ian gallagher. shameless.

✶ laura kinney. marvel.

✶ rue bennett. euphoria.

yeayea i said i was a writer but this intro was ass. i didn't say i was a good one! okay no honestly i'm just bad at talking about myself. also, english is not my mother tongue i swear.

#( s ) ystem 　 “⠀ 🦇 　！#( d ) iary 　 “⠀ 🦇 　！#introduction #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting blog #shifting #shifting antis dni #shifting community #shifting consciousness #shifting diary #shifting to desired reality #reality shifter #shifting realities #shiftinconsciousness #shifters

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deminetly · 2 months ago

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—ㅤ꒰ྀིㅤ⠀DREAM BUILDER DR INTRO ಿৎ

link to the tiktok I made about this dr

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

heavily inspired by the cartoon dream builders btw

in this dr me and like thousands of other workers in this world build dreams for people in the real world - we observe our people (the 3-5 people that we are meant to) every day and craft dreams for them every night

. . .

JOBS

most people usually work multiple jobs at once (writer and director, observer and idea generator)

-bosses (make sure that everytging goes perfectly, talk to factory workers about items that are needed)

-observers (observe people)

-actors

-idea generators (think of fitting ideas for people)

-script writers

-directors (direct the dreams)

-dream senders (get the recording of the dream, go into the real world and give the dream to the sleeping person)

-factory workers (crafting costumes and specific items needed in dreams)

. . .

SCHOOL

everyone living in dreamscape must finish at least 3-5 years of school to be a worker (depends on which classes you take)

manditory lessons:

-dreams 101 (meanings of different kinds of dreams, how to send signs, etc)

-acting

-script writing and directing

-costume design

-landscape design

optional lessons:

-factory work

-teaching (studying to become a teacher at dreamscape school)

. . .

EXTRA

we have teams that usually work together for making dreams to the same specific people, teams consist of an observer + idea generator, script writer and director, actors and the boss

every week we give out a ‘best dream of the week’ award to a team

we can watch dreams on our breaks

every observer has a startee kit that consists of a camera and a notebook

. . .

PLACES

this is what our world looks like in the real world (people in the real world cannot see it of course) but dont be fooled, its at least a thousand times bigger on the inside than it looks on the outside

these are the trains that take us around our world or to the real world

these are homes of workers (they are also much bigger on the inside

factories where items and costumes for the dreams are made in

classrooms for dream students

“fake” stages (the ones where dream students practise plays)

stages for actual dreams

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maravdrs · 27 days ago

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　　　　𝓦ESTERN DESIRED REALITY 　　　　INTRODUCTION　　　　1884

　　KATHRYN ABERNATHY was born and raised in the small town of brookridge, new mexico.

　　her father, jesper, protected the town as best as anyone could. he was a formidable gunslinger, one of the very best. her mother, esme, was from deadwood, a town of only women. the day jesper stumbled in, black and blue and bleeding, he was nearly ran out. esme took a chance, saving the poor man and falling for him in the process.

　　the two of them became notable bounty hunters. they caught the toughest criminals in the state, especially since the law wasn't doing anything about them. they would leave KATHRYN with her grandfather, adam bartlett, as they traveled for weeks at a time. he taught her how to shoot, hunt, and ride.

　　in december of 1869, jesper and esme abernathy traveled to bittersprings, a place that was comprised of outlaws and criminals. they were after frank griffin, one of the worst criminals around. they were given a tip and even helped by some of the outlaws, however, the moment frank showed up they were a foot into their graves. jesper and esme abernathy did not leave bittersprings that afternoon and they never would again.

　　KATHRYN never really knew her parents but she knew what they stood for. she decided to do good, help those who needed helping, just like they did. she avoided the bounty hunter route and rode as much as possible.

　　ROY GOODE was an orphan for as long as he could remember. he and his older brother, jim goode, wandered around as they tried to make their way to california. they had no money, no talent for gunslinging, and could only live off what they found.

　　one evening, a nun named lucy cole took both boys in. she helped them get fed, have a place to rest, and even gave them purpose with helping out the horses.

　　jim ended up leaving roy at the orphanage. he said he was leaving for the both of them and that he'd write to him once he found a place for them. ROY was devastated, feeling left behind by his only kin. he begrudgingly accepted and didn't fight lucy on staying.

　　about three years after jim left and without any letters, ROY decided to leave as well. lucy was upset but knew she could not stop him. he set off on his own, hoping to make his way to his brother. on his way there, though, he ran into notorious criminal frank griffin.

　　frank was unusually kind to him, taking him in as a son. he taught him how to shoot, ride, take care of horses, and how to hide his tracks. he was never cruel to him, strangely enough, and he brought him along to all his raids.

　　about ten years after he left, ROY came back to the orphanage and gave a bunch of money to thank lucy. she had no idea it was stolen and praised him for turning his life around. she informed him that she had a letter from his brother, it had arrived about a year after he had left the orphanage. feeling guilty, he silently vowed that he would truly change his ways.

　　after arguing with one of frank's men, he left for good. he didn't want to be associated with frank and his cruel ways. instead, he began tormenting them. he'd steal frank's money in the dead of night, follow them and ruin their raids, and even spread rumors so the authorities would chase them out of certain states.

　　eventually, frank got so angry that he burned down an entire town because they aided ROY. the two of them met up and had it out, which resulted in frank losing an arm and ROY going on the run. he ended up stumbling into the edge of brookridge on the abernathy property.

　　　　APRIL 1884 . . .

　　he showed up just as the rain began to fall and night had settled on the town. he was weak, shot twice on his abdomen and bleeding through his ruined shirt. before he could speak, he fell off his horse with a thud.

　　she had been up, wanting to watch the storm from the comfort of her window. that's when she heard him fall, the weak groan that escaped him. she grabbed her pistol and rushed out, seeing him unmoving as the rain began to come down hard.

　　she moved him into the barn, swearing under her breath the entire time at the circumstances. she lit a match, cauterizing his wounds. he woke with a yell, screaming at the pain, before passing out from exhaustion. she took his horse into the stables, tending to him before heading to bed herself. she had no interest in snooping in his worn satchel or interrogating him this late.

　　he woke around midafternoon, just as she was getting back from a ride. he couldn't help but stare, unsure if he was in heaven or not with the way he went out last night.

　　she hopped off her horse, making her way over to the weak man who was already trying to force himself to stand. it was then she realized he was going to be stubborn about this.

　　　　MAY 1884 . . .

　　she ended up letting him stay longer than she initially anticipated. her grandfather wasn't so happy, often stopping by and just staring at the man as he worked on the ranch, but the man didn't mind. he found it amusing after so long.

　　"you should stay longer," she heard herself saying to him as the evening sun beat down on them. "i've gotten a lot done around here with your help. besides, my grandfather is getting older and can't keep helpin' me the way you have. i have new horses that need guidance, if he gets thrown off he's done for."

　　he should've refused. he was no good, he would only make her life harder. however, he found himself considering it despite himself. he'd grown used to this ranch, to this town, to her.

　　"if i was to stay here and break them horses for ya', there'd be somethin' else i'd be wantin' from you," he said, looking up at her from where he knelt by the broken post, his hands suddenly unmoving.

　　"and what might that be?" she asked, her hands moving to support the top of the broken post.

　　"teach me how to read."

　　"teach you to read?" she echoed, "that's all you want from me?" she had been expecting money, which she was already providing him despite his protests, or even control of the ranch like most men asked for when their heads got too big for their bodies.

　　he presented a small smile, one he would usually hide from others. his horse huffed behind him, almost as if laughing at his pitiful demand.

　　"is that all you want me to want from you?" he asked, standing slowly and taking a small step closer to her.

　　she glanced to the side, biting back her own smile, "we can start lessons tomorrow, bright and early."

　　with that, she walked back to her home. he watched her, his smile only growing at her deflection. he decided that would be enough teasing for tonight.

　　"and don't you be late mr. goode!" she called out from over her shoulder.

　　"i wouldn't dream of disappointin' you, miss. abernathy!" he called back.

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