#sorry this is so random. current fixation is set like 100 years ago so i’m having a moment

[imagineyourfo]

people with historical fiction f/os rise up

literally just reblog this post or jump into my ask box and tell me about the time period your f/o is from and how your self insert fits into it etc etc.. i’m in a mood

[wanderinginksplot]

Nobody Listens to Kix

Sorry, Rebels fans. This is not Chopper the droid, but Chopper the clone trooper who was part of Slick's squad before the battle on Christophsis. Chopper has a number of physical and psychological scars, and that should be enough background for you to enjoy this chapter.

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Case 00389: Chopper

Kix packed his medic's bag, preparing for the trip mentally as well as physically. The dread he felt at the prospect was only slightly lessened because he knew his patient dreaded their appointment equally much.

Neither of them liked their meetings, but they were extremely necessary. After the explosion that had caused such extreme injury to Chopper's face, eyes, and body, the 501st's medic at the time, Coric, had started Chopper on a strict physical therapy regimen. Since then, Coric had been reassigned, but he had passed the physical therapy responsibility down to Kix.

The extensive scarring on Chopper's face, chest, arms, and back required constant physical activity or they would stiffen and he would essentially become paralyzed by the scar tissue.

Chopper, for his part, was terrified of all medics and medical personnel, a holdover from his time being treated after the injuries, when the non-clone staff had debated sending him back to Kamino. Even then, every vod had known that was code for reconditioning. Much as Kix had gotten a reputation for treating his brothers whether they liked it or not, he didn't enjoy torture, and that's how Chopper saw their sessions.

An hour later, the transport Kix had hopped was preparing for arrival at an outpost on the secluded edges of wild space… which was a nice way of saying it was in the middle of nowhere on the galaxy's shebs.

Parable Outpost was the kind of place troopers prayed they wouldn't be assigned to. It was quiet to the point of dullness, there was no local life to speak of, and no combat had ever come within 100 parsecs of it. The outpost was the home of foolish brothers, the lazy ones, and any men who had found some way to piss off a superior officer badly enough enough. No brother wanted to go to Parable, but more than a few ended up here. Chopper, however, was here on purpose.

Just before Coric had left the 501st, the medbay had been subjected to an audit and Coric, Captain Rex, and General Skywalker were required to submit a form detailing general medical expenses over the past year. They had managed to disguise the amounts that had gone toward Chopper's treatment due to - as the general put it - creative bookkeeping, but Coric had moved on and Chopper had shared his desire to do the same.

It made sense to Kix. After all, if the GAR or the longnecks found out that there was a trooper with such severe injuries - and several psychological problems as well - they would order him sent back to Kamino for reconditioning.

No one was willing to take that chance, but Chopper had to be moved out of such a combat-heavy detachment. To everyone's surprise, Chopper had come up with a list of places he would be interested in moving, including Parable Outpost.

Chopper had been marked for infantry almost as soon as he was decanted, and he was karking good at it. Over the years, his injuries and aggressive attitude had kept him from being promoted to higher ranks, but he had gained expertise on a remarkable level when it came to battle analysis. Now, Chopper worked at Parable Outpost as a Combat, Munitions, and Enemy Tactics Specialist, a division all of his own invented by General Skywalker and ratified by Generals Kenobi, Secura, and Koon.

It was a dream assignment for the temperamental trooper. In short, Chopper stayed at Parable Outpost and analyzed battle footage sent to him. He compiled reports and sent suggested improvements for tactics and weapons technology to the appropriate departments and generals. He had complete control over how much contact he had with brothers - most of whom he outranked - but could train as much as he wanted.

Even so, Kix couldn't fight back a shudder as he stepped out of the transport and approached the door leading from the hangar into the outpost itself. He wouldn't want to be stuck here, not surrounded by brothers with chips on their shoulders, trapped with troopers who had been reprimanded for underperforming.

He exchanged nods with a few random men as he made his way toward Chopper's office. The first few times he had come to Parable, Kix had been stopped over and over by men who didn't recognize him and wanted to check his credentials. Now, he was accepted as a common sight on the outpost and no one questioned him.

Chopper's office was at the end of a long hall on the officer's side of the outpost. There was nothing marking the door as his, nothing to invite anyone in, but Kix knocked with total confidence.

"Enter," Chopper barked after a long pause.

Kix stepped through the door, carefully closing it to avoid making any unnecessary noises. Chopper was a bit sensitive to unexpected sounds. The trooper in question sat at his desk, surrounded by datapads while a holoprojector adaptor threw footage from a battle on a far wall. Chopper's two-toned gaze was fixed intently on the scene, and he scrawled hasty notes on a pad of flimsi as he watched.

"It's time for your therapy," Kix said, loathe to interrupt, but equally eager to get this over with.

"We just kriffin' did this," Chopper grumbled, still writing.

Kix scoffed. "Three months ago. You know we have to work the scarring at least four times a year or it'll-"

"Yeah, yeah, it'll freeze up," Chopper interrupted. He sighed, pausing the holovid in place while he finished making notes and stood. Despite his dread of the therapy, he was already dressed in the gray outfit all clones wore to work out and spar. "Let's get this over with."

Kix nodded, opening the medical bag. He tossed Chopper a bottle of medicated lotion. "Here's enough for the next three months, at least. Are you still applying it twice a day?"

"Mostly."

Now it was Kix's turn to sigh. "Mostly? Vod…"

"I've only forgotten a few times," Chopper explained defensively.

"We'll see about that," Kix told him threateningly. "If you've been skipping applications, I'll be able to tell from the results of your range-of-motion tests."

To the medic's pleasure, the results were positive. "You've gained three more degrees of movement in your right shoulder and two in your left. That's really good, Chopper."

"Uh-huh. Let's just get through the rest of this," Chopper dismissed.

He infamously hated the next part, he always had. Kix had to work the muscles in each area, a process that required a great deal of physical contact. From what he understood, that had never been one of Chopper's favorite things, but now, the trooper despised touch on a nearly phobic level.

Kix worked to complete the process as quickly as he could while still working every patch of scar tissue as much as was necessary. By the end of it, Chopper was sweating lightly and his jaw was clenched to keep in the small pain noises.

From past experience, Kix knew his own face was pale. He hated - hated - hurting his brothers, and causing Chopper so much pain made Kix feel physically ill.

When he finally stepped back, Kix fought to observe Chopper with a medic's gaze. The trooper was pale and sweating, eyes glassy as his attention turned inward. He was fixating on the pain - never a good thing.

"Do you want the therapy machine?" Kix asked carefully.

Most sessions, Chopper refused the additional help, but it had been a long time since Kix had seen his brother in so much pain. It was a testament to the strain of physical therapy that Chopper gave a single jerk of his chin in the affirmative.

Kix wasted no time setting up the machine and attaching the small pads to Chopper's scars. The trooper's joints got a few more attachment points just because Kix had worked them so hard. Chopper didn't speak or react at all during the process.

Within two minutes, Kix had attached all the necessary equipment and powered up the machine. Chopper's shoulders crept downward slightly, dropping further from his ears with every breath.

As he stared at the small, lightweight machine that was currently blocking Chopper's pain receptors and causing a surge of endorphins, Kix fought not to fill the silence. Chopper didn't like unnecessary conversation and there was nothing Kix needed to say, anyway. He was just used to checking on the men's pain level and progress. He already knew Chopper's pain level - kriffing high - and there would be no real progress. This wasn't healing, it was preventative maintenance. Saying anything would just drive home that Chopper was deeply damaged.

Kix took in a deep breath, intent on releasing it as a silent breath, but words snuck out before he could hold them back: "I'm sorry."

Chopper's dark brows furrowed and he stared up at Kix through mismatched eyes. "No need," he said simply, dropping his gaze again.

The room's silence remained unbroken until Kix had detached Chopper from the machine, packed it away, and began to move for the door. Chopper stopped him.

"Hey," Chopper said, avoiding eye contact and speaking in a low-pitched rush of words. "I know I don't act like it, but I appreciate what you're doing for me. I don't like medics, but… I know you're a good man. A good brother. Thanks. See you in three months."

It was probably a good thing Kix walked with the crisp gait of a soldier and a medic. If Chopper had caught a glimpse of how much those words had affected Kix, the scarred trooper would have been more uncomfortable than he had been during the therapy. Still, Kix allowed Chopper's soft pronouncement to bounce around inside his helmet during the trip back to the Resolute, smiling all the while.

[slendermanlore]

Just Another Fool + “Similar Situations”

While I’m on a roll of compiling vintage ARG player comments, here’s a post for the blog that integrated them the most.

August 7, 2009, Dav Flamerock comments:

Hey dude, that looks really familiar and seems to be corresponding with some research I’m doing on the myth of Slender Man. Have you ever heard of him? I have a few other case studies which I can point you to, if you like, which I’m using in my research, but if you wouldn’t mind I’d like to keep an eye on your blog and on Matt’s journal as a possible–nay, probable–source for my research. If you must contact me, the email supplied with this reply should suffice.

Thank you for your time,

~Dav Flamerock

Miskatonic University

August 7, 2009, Logan responds:

Dav,

I apologize in advance, as I don’t think you’ll find much mythy stuff here. Slender man sounds oddly familiar, although I can’t say I know what a slender man is. I’m currently out and about but I’ll check something when I get home later tonight.

August 7, 2009, Dav Flamerock comments:

The inclusion of dreams is suddenly quite interesting. How long have you been having this dream? Do you remember anything more about the voice which said “Now?” Have you been much of a dreamer before this recurring dream?

Most importantly, have you seen a tall slender man clad in a suit with a blank face, in real life?

This may be more important than you think. As before, I can be reached at my.name at gmail.

~Dav Flamerock

Miskatonic University

August 9, 2009, Logan responds:

I’m not sure how often I’ve been having the dream… A few days maybe? I haven’t had it since I wrote about it though, so I guess this pseudo-journaling thing has at least accomplished one thing. I’ve had plenty of dreams in the past, and even some that have been recurring, so I didn’t think this was particularly out of the ordinary. Also, I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything specific about the voice beyond that it doesn’t belong to someone I know. I guess it sounded like a middle aged man? It’s a bit hard to describe a random voice.

There’s been a pretty good lack of slender men clad in suits with blank faces… No worries on that front.

I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful, but feel free to tell me anything you think might be relevant.

Cheers,

Logan

August 11, 2009, Dav Flamerock comments:

I commend Dr. W for putting together the story as he has done so with such limited information from Matt. However, it is *very* curious that you have begun having these dreams after seeing the sketchbook, for obvious reasons. Have you had the dream since we last spoke? I trust you shall blog about it when you do?

I must admit, I am finding Matt’s story difficult to believe. Such a blatant act of hostility and destruction of life is not consistent with the other material I have on the Slender Man, for he has been known to be subtle and very exacting in his victims–certainly not the kind to appear in broad daylight and set fire to half a squad of battle-hardened marines. While the dream coincidence is strange, I must agree with Dr. W’s analysis. Seeing one’s friends blown apart by a suicide bomber is always a traumatizing experience.

Regards,

~Dav Flamerock

Miskatonic University

August 12, 2009, zebo2g comments:

Just a word of advice, and it MIGHT help with remembering the dream. Some people who have dreams of let’s say, winning the lottery. They enjoy the idea of it that much that some keep a notepad on their bedside table. The moment you wake up, jot down every key point you remember from that dream and report it back here and we’ll see where we can go from there.

Stay safe and be careful

August 12, 2009, zebo2g comments:

Sorry just went over the rest of your entries again, but still keep the notes of every dream and we’ll see what we can get from them. The fixation with this creature shouldn’t be taken lightly. Be careful with how far you pursue this as it could really get to you and end in you going insane. If the dreams get worse, for the sake of yourself, back off from it.

August 13, 2009, Lifegospel comments:

Hello

I am a colleague of Dav Flamerock’s, I have an understanding of dream psycology, more so than most scientists. This recurring dream can be troubling, or it could just be you saw the picture and started dreaming about it.

Either way, I will keep reading this, if you have any questions, I’ll answer them as best as I can.

-Lifegospel

September 25, 2009, Sven Vikson comments:

Joshua, I must warn you, you need to avoid this “Business man” at all costs, I can’t stress this to you any more. You may also want to avoid Logan’s journal. You are in great danger and if you aren’t careful, you could end up like him.

September 25, 2009, TheNightmareComplex comments:

Once you’ve got those pictures up, my friend, you need to burn it. Please. The cycle can end with you.

September 26, 2009, Morrigan comments:

Don’t let anyone else touch the journal or see the journal, either. Don’t even mention the journal if you haven’t already.

October 4, 2009, Ash comments:

I have a theory… I think whatever this ‘Slender Man’ is, he is a virus of sorts. The notes and drawings that your friend wrote had a horrifying affect on him, and now it’s affecting you, second hand. The same thing to what’s happening to J who’s posting the Marble Hornets videos. His friend Alex seems to have slowly degraded, and now J is showing signs of illness.

This thing is a virus, corrupting whatever it comes near.

October 5, 2009, TheNightmareComplex responds:

Virus aren’t designed to corrupt, I’m afraid, they’re designed to destroy and breed. Their only function if to multiply. I’m afraid Slender Man is more like a Cancer than anything. And that’s far more terrifying.

October 5, 2009, Lifegospel responds:

Cancer causes the immune system to attack itself, while the cancerous cells multiply, I think that as long as we’re on medical metaphors, Slender Man is more autoimmune. The body starts attacking itself, as Matt, Alex and Logan did.

October 5, 2009, Ash responds:

As long as we’re one-upping each other on the medical metaphors… ;)

He’s like the spiritual black death.

October 5, 2009, TheNightmareComplex comments:

Wow, not only is Dr. P.T. Madd a gamejacker, he’s a bad one; His pictures are straight off of Something Awful.

Nice try, jerk.

October 5, 2009, Joshua responds:

What game?

-Joshua

October 5, 2009, Dav Flamerock comments:

You don’t want to know.

Madd, if you really wanted to pass yourself off as real, you would at least do some historical research and remind yourself that Innsmouth was effectively destroyed in police action over sixty years ago.

~Dav Flamerock

Miskatonic University

October 8, 2009, Dav Flamerock comments:

Logan, you mustn’t aggravate yourself. The reward is knowledge, yes–that is why it was sent to you. That did not cause the arrival of the Slender Man, nor did it make him see you. You are not alone. You are not the only one who can see him. If you learn one thing from me, it is this:

There is no why.

Do not let your shell break. Protect your vital heart and your mind.

He is in our world. We are NOT in his. Do not let yourself fall to delirium. Do not give up hope.

~Dav Flamerock

October 18, 2009, Dav Flamerock comments:

A few details have me worried–Logan living on Ash Tree Lane (Yggdrasil), the frightening resemblance of the scratches on the cover to something too dangerous to discuss on these unreliable networks, and the two missing pages being the most important points.

Joshua, you made the right choice to rid yourself of this book.

October 27, 2009, Dav Flamerock comments:

Without going into too much detail;

I must have posted this on my youtube video, not here, but the reason Miskatonic has no web presence is because we work exclusively on Internet-2, so none of our webwork can be accessed on Internet-1 (what we are using now). I think it’s silly to be completely invisible on this network, but the esoteric have their reasons and I’m not exactly in any position to argue. As for why Miskatonic only shows up as a fictional school, such is an unfortunate side effect of the school’s desire to stay obscure. Lovecraft, as you mentioned, went there and wrote about it, and that was the first really public view to the school. As I’m sure you know, the first story sticks, and so now everyone knows it as “that school that Lovecraft wrote about.” Oh well, I’m not going to make a big deal about that either–it actually works rather well for us.

Dr. Upham is not whom I was referencing, I was referencing Dr. Ukrytywicz (and you wondered why I shortened his name). You won’t find him on the internet much, because he’s a bit secretive himself, but perhaps someone knows of him.

I don’t understand why people keep invoking the Marble Hornets entries here, due to their dissociation, but I have no power to stop you from doing so.

Good day, and have a Happy Halloween!

~Dav Flamerock

December 31, 2009, ISH comments:

Some of us are still paying attention to the trees.

Logan, Joshua. Don’t give up.

January 8, 2010, Dylan comments:

Logan is no longer suffering.

January 9, 2010, Mato comments:

He mentioned he was going to ride his motorcycle to where Logan’s cadaver is being kept, I can only hope that something similar to before hasn’t happened. Joshua if you get the chance to read these comments I recommend continuing to keep in touch with us, it could help take your mind off of things.

I’m a little worried about myself actually, ever since early December I’ve been looking into this Slenderman thing heavily. Been sick since Christmas, everything but the terrible coughing has gone away. Not seen anything strange, yet, though me being far from alone nearly 100% of the time may have something to do with that.

But as we’ve seen from other incidents, SM doesn’t seem to have any trouble toying with people that stick in groups.

March 27, 2010, Zedek comments:

As the curtains close so many from the audience try to hold it open. The Act is done, it is time to sleep and await for a chance to tell our story.

November 18, 2010, Lewis comments:

This is the end of the story. In a few months, it will be a year since anybody has posted on this blog.

Matt is dead.

Logan is dead.

Joshua is dead.

But when one story is over, a new one begins.

March 25, 2011, der ritter comments:

It is but a noise, a shadow, a warning. To see it is to deserve it. Follow the angel of death to the ark. Only the chosen shall live. The Waters of God will engulf sin. The world is his playground but everything answers to something. That something is close, rounding the forgotten planet. Repentence is aimed at something false. Humanity has failed, follow him to the ark. His origin will be the last place for salvation.

May 16, 2011, Can'tKeepUp comments:

Sometimes there are things we can’t explain, things that don’t make sense to us. It’s best not to get involved with these things but for those of you who do…stop before it’s too late.

July 10, 2011, ThroughALookingGlass comments:

It’s been over two years now. I don’t think they’re coming back.

Something bad must have happened, I think they’re gone.

I never really met any of these guys, but I understand what it is they were dealing with. After waiting for two years and recieving no updates, I’m giving up on waiting.

For the past couple of years I’ve been compiling some research and I’ve had a few close encounters of my own. I’m not going to just destroy all of the evidence and spend the rest of my life in fear, I’ll find out what happened to these two by myself. If some Monster comes after me, so be it. I’m done with all these disappearances and unsolved mysteries.

I’ll finish this.

January 31, 2013, Noxifer comments:

What begins, ends.

And with end comes a new beginning.

Life is just a highway to death.