#tw: smoking mention

[allelitewrestlings]

[thetrashthatsmilesback]

Science side of Tumblr: why did my asthma testing improve so much when I cut my vaping down from daily to about once a week even though I still vape?

[xtinyslip]

"YOU'RE EITHER HERE TO GIVE INTO THAT FEELING IN THE BACK OF YOUR HEAD AND FUCK ME? OR YOU'RE HERE TO RIDE MY ASS? NOT SURE WHICH I WOULD PREFER." hoffman moved to sit down, of course, a lit smoke in his hand as he turned to look at her. no, he didn't have to see her to know she was there. perhaps that was something he should be paying more attention to but right now his head fucking hurt. he didn't want to think or feel anything else. the fact he had finally come clean about his feelings for strahm were overwhelming enough. hoffman didn't need whatever this shit was. "look? as soon as i have something worth sharing? you'll be first to have a call. cops are all over young like a hot rash. haven't had much access but i got the message to her to keep her mouth shut. should buy us some time." @lcvenderhcze

[dannysummers]

closed starter - danny & anu @syncrgistic

“I don’t want to be over-dramatic, but today felt like a hundred years in hell and the absolute worst day of my life.” With an exasperated sigh, Danny leaned back in his seat, head tilting back against the headrest as he squeezed at the ball in his hand. So, yeah, he was being a bit too much, and not many people at the sanctuary had seen him be anything but a positive little ray of sunshine, but there he was. Huffing and puffing, probably needing a drink and a smoke, or perhaps a very long nap. It was a rare thing, to have him be on the other end of being in need of a cheering up.

[grim-faux]

2 _ 33 _ A Bend in the Road

First - An Echo Rebounds Through the Silent City

All the rooms and the corridors had taken several scouts. The larger room led to the corridors, and the corridors branched off to the separate rooms, and a kitchen area. He only sifted through the kitchen, but that was it. No dangers found a way into the rooms, not during his watch.

When his legs could no longer carry him, he curled up beside a wall and rested. Much of his time was dedicated to the scouting. It was important. Safe. He was always attuned to unfamiliar noises in the walls, and half-slept with one eye open, barely skimming over the membrane of unconsciousness. He was used to the dull air, absent of vibrancy and buzzing. The best sounds fled his thoughts, to the point he thought hearing was a mythical affliction.

These corridors and rooms were so different from the perpetual dark halls and broken rooms, sagging into each other. The windows seemed so… artificial, in a way he couldn’t decide. Behind the warped boards and broken glass, the world beyond was too bright. The acidic radiance burnt his eyes. But that was okay, he was getting used to it. He wasn’t a fan of traveling out in the open, without the assurance of shades or dark cloaks. Being able to see where he was and the walls surrounding, that was a plus.

On the rare occasions he didn’t roam around, he’d sit in one of the inner rooms and by the soft gleam of a bulb, go through his worldly possessions. He organized his hats, and usually traded one out. The weird picture speek of a face stayed folded into his coat, but he liked to take that out and give it a look. Though now, the entire surface had become damaged by water seepage. If he was lucky, his searching might reward him with crumbs wedged deep into his pockets.

Though he had too much to do, it was also fun to sit and do nothing, and see for how long he could be still. It was never fun uncoiling from the bubble of warmth he formed, but he was no stranger to severing those enticing threads. Then, it was back to his patrols.

He left his familiar marks on the walls, to make the place remember he was here. After adding so many stories, he felt like he was always here. He couldn’t remember if the Thin Man left him here, or if this was where Mono took shelter while he waited. Everything was confusing when the Thin Man wasn’t around, since he kept track of when the Thin Man came to visit and then left. That was always important, especially when he could follow the Thin Man. Sometimes he wanted to see an other child following the Thin Man, even if Mono was the only child to follow. In the quiet span of time while the windows tucked into dark hues, he thought a lot of the other children.

This building was not quite as tall as others he had stayed in. This was for a while, and he still had plenty of windows to climb out of if a creature came searching. From the larger room, the corridors led into the rooms with windows, and he rarely went to the rooms without windows – even if they were dry. Not many of them had bulbs or lamps that would work, and he had broken enough trying to practice his tricks.

When it wasn’t raining hard, he climbed onto the sill and wrapped his coat over his knees. From this height, he could still see the street below, and another street at the end intersecting. The Thin Man only wandered when it rained, but he was always eager to visit Mono. Sometimes he brought books and papers, he would sit in one of the rooms and scratch down marks. The Thin Man preferred flimsy pages.

Scratching picture speek onto walls was a child thing. For the bazillion time, the Thin Man was not a child.

One of the rooms on the other side of the dwelling was where the Thin Man hid away. He would be back, because he left some pages with his mark speek. It all meant nothing to Mono, but he liked to check the room in case the Thin Man was hiding very well.

He climbed from a chair and hopped to the edge of the table, which was slippery from dust and ash. Mono didn’t have anything to write on the papers with, aside from carving tools – he would never carve into the paper. Rather mess up the Thin Man’s marking, he liked to sit and trace his finger over the strikes and curves of the marks. A circle here. A slash there. He liked to think about the man in the hat so diligent and focused on the marks, while a stick with a smoky tail curled around his hat. The Thin Man looked so important, he had so much busy.

Mono had a lot of busy and work too. But the Thin Man’s stony focus was a different sort of busy. If Mono could get away with sitting on the tabletop for watch the Thin Man, he preferred that. Thing’s didn’t always go that way, and after a while the man in the hat’s focus would crumble away. He usually moved Mono out of the room and shut the door, or wrapped Mono into a blanket and shoved him into a drawer.

To remedy all this, Mono would be crafty and sit in a nearby corner. He could be very still like a shadow. Or he hid beneath the chair and watched the Thin Man’s heels. The shoes didn’t do anything, but the static was so steady and mingled nicely with the scratching on coarse papers. Or the flipping of pages.

One day Mono would figure out the mystery of mark speek. The man in the hat did not like pictures, but he liked marks. It would look amazing and the Thin Man would be impressed with how well he could imitate the marks.

Until that time, Mono slipped down onto the chair and curled up on the seat. Between the bars of the chairs back, he watched the ajar doorway and listened to the soft creaking in the walls. He was eager for the Thin Man to come and they could leave, because Mono had a mission. No matter what, he couldn’t leave the Thin Man behind.

__

The wind was not howling rabid or wild on this hour. The storm was nothing but glassy beads glittering across the tall thin man’s suit jacket and hat. With his head titled, the excess water sweeps of the hat rim, behind the silver pellets, eyes shimmer in the shadows of his face. He glared beyond the glossy veil, with a hand pressed to his lips; he drew in the warmth of smoke and held it in his chest.

In the distance, far beyond the hissing curtains and strumming wail droplets, the impervious monolith of the Signal Tower stands behind its picket line of loyal attendants.

Close. No longer a distance to ponder or agonize about reaching.

Below, the roads would be cleaved and divided into chasms, or caved out entirely into an eternal abyss littered with portions of buildings, and pieces of cities décor. He could imagine where such a gorge might lead, given the proximity to the Tower. However, he had banished all halls and door, which could led to the outside world. Only one door in or out, and it would only open for one single event – an anniversary of sorts. No other force or will could shift that entrance.

A thread of smoke trailed the man in the hat, when he tore his gaze from the unwavering stare of the Tower. He traced around the punctured wounds and collapse embedded in the rooftop of the building, before winking out of existence of the pummeling downpour.

In some obscure corridor, twisted and mangled by the lurch of the building fostering it, the Thin Man solidified with a piercing shriek. Immediately, the crisp click and ticking of his footfalls rebounded off the walls, overpowering the hollowed moaning of the foundation as the structure sagged in its moorings. Somewhere distant and muffled, the hokey laughter of a fictitious audience crashed through the bleak emptiness. He breezed by an open doorway, the bulb within the ceiling flashed against his bristling presence. In the eviscerated window, tattered curtains flap fiercely against another hammer of water. Across the floorboards, dust lifted and skipped across the broken body of some malformed creature bloated by the insufferable climate.

Another plume of smoke swelled forth from beneath the bill of the hat, as he chewed at the end of his smoke sti— cig. It was a cigarette.

Rooms shut tight and locked for decades, he opened effortlessly and bowed beneath the insufferably low doorframe. Clutter and boundless plains of rubbish coated the floors wall-to-wall, a testament of indifferent beings from a period of the world forgotten by time itself. The man in the hat sought pieces to a puzzle with no distinct picture, while the marks and pictures faded across discarded tomes offered no clear image, so as the inane purpose of his agenda. How kindred he was to these neglected dens, a practical existing in a world that ceased.

Perhaps, he mused, while seeking broken shelves littered with literature, the former denizens of the city had taken interest in something obscene. Of the mounds of pages packed into the floor, or books stacked to molder perpetually, he sought an inspiration in the last discarded pieces before the Viewers came to be.

As always he doubted, given how long (or undetermined and timeless as the cycle endured) that nothing which could have remembered, would have had its wits intact when the Signal Tower first unraveled its roots and penetrated the streets. Was is not possible that all which had once cared, was slain before the Signal Tower saw its opportunities? That dredged the question of the culprit, and the motivation? Was there one creature neglected in the city, which was spared for its role?

That would be a fools errand. A feeble speculation with no merit, aside from unbridled madness in his aimless pursuits.

Regardless, he shifted among the dwellings in glitching shadows, skipping away from open corridors of empty-nothing. He paid careful attention to rooms which faced the Signal Tower, in the distance, and those that reveled in violence on the walls and doorways. There was more to this acknowledgment than mere guess, since he took note of a higher frequency of varied means of self… ending.

A bathroom coated in brown flakes, the tub long drained but retained a stain. A tattered rope, then a chair in ab odd placement. Other evidence presented itself, of bizarre happenings that occurred before; of a ‘‘when’’ he couldn’t discern. The evidence remained, this was all he could conclude with his stinted understanding of that world. Of all the places which featured private disaster, nothing indicated to the why.

The tall thin man knew the why, naturally. But what was it the adults believed in? What did They see out the window?

Somewhere nearby, the jeering melody cackled from a television. The programs never changed, it was always the rehashed melodies and jokes performed to a sprawling cemetery. In the absence of—

The door to the next room repelled off its frame and crashed to the floor. Atop the lopsided panel, because it had fallen upon a shattered television, the Viewer rocked and clawed over the grainy wood.

The Thin Man dropped the thick binder he previously collected (among other curios), but he was promptly knocked backwards by the squealing creature.

What the Ť̷̩̲Ó̵̯̟W̸͈̃̚ͅȨ̷̕R̵̞̅?̸̣̽͛

This was odd. As of late, the Viewers had been more aggressive and becoming difficult to elude with the traditional means, but under usual circumstances a television sufficed for their withdrawals. This one was behaving in the most abnormal fashion. Not only that, the deranged thing was trying to crawl up his legs while he lay, stunned.

Despite being easy to avoid while aptly distracted, he never liked them. They were icky and creepy, and it was the worst when they were agitated and chasing him. Lifetimes ago, he could remember clearly racing through the icy waters of a dwelling flooded through. He knocked over a lamp and the unleashed current tore through the placid waters, sending sparks carving through the Viewer that had been hounding him.

Presently, the Thin Man collected his sense of place and time. The Viewer dug its weathered fingers at his stomach, using his jacket as anchorage to haul up onto its knees. It didn’t climb much further, the Thin Man shoved it backwards off his frame. While the Viewer tumbled across the floor (and collided with a wall) the Thin Man flashed, reappearing a meter or so more from his former position.

Static particles and crackling sparks sizzled across his grainy threads, as he went about straightening his jacket and smoothing a rumpled crease in his hat. He hummed to himself, irritated by the ravaged book lost in the scuffle. The loss was not great, the damage the tome suffered likely made it unreliable as a source. Still, he abhorred his things being tarnished.

With a wet gargle, the Viewer launched at him. The arms flopped at its knees, its crooked and mangled face flashing with signal distortions and jiggling.

When it reached him, the Thin Man snared it by the shoulders and whipped around. He shoved the flailing adult at a blank wall, but when the Viewer smashed into the impervious surface, the timber and plaster burst into clumps of powder. The Viewer crashed into the next room but kept going, rolling reminiscent of a rabid log across the cluttered room and bounding through another wall. Beyond the next barrier lay nothing but lashing rain and spiraling mist. The debris of partially vaporized metal and wood formed a miniature cyclone around the spinning Viewer, before it plunged out of sight. The grotesque shriek faded out, to be replaced by the soothing prattling of droplets on freshly exposed floorboards.

The Thin Man rewound into his prim and proper posture, giving his sleeves a brisk dusting. He preferred not getting involved with the Denizens of the Signal, but such confrontation was… aberrant. More bizarre than his own existence, (er, outside of the Tower). This was not the first event he dealt with. The first account of a Viewer mowing him over went dismissed as a fluke – the creatures being neither graceful or practical in their pursuits.

If no television was immediately accessible, Viewers typically sought escapism in trivial things – typically noises, bright lights, or other drastic changes in their environment. Such as small nuisances.

The door that the Viewer smashed down, actually led into the room where the Viewer went tumbling through as well. Over on a desk, the television caroled with cheerful tunes, the images behind the static fluttered with exaggerated animations of stiff caricatures and a parody of bliss.

This was a matter of concern. However, not as concerning as the sounds the buildings was now chattering with. The walls of the room, and the shredded portal where the Viewer toppled out of, growled with a hideous threat. The buckled paneling up and down began fraying, silt rained from the ceiling and functioning lights began to sputter out. Like thread splinting on a worn rope, bits of tinder and fibrous wood flung loose, the floor beneath his shoes began to roll and arch. The floor cracked and a portion sunk downward, dipping out of view.

The Thin Man raised his arms, but thought better of this redundant action. He doubted the boy would be nearby. Instead, he removed himself from the location entirely, and relocated.

From his new vantage point, a window directly across from the crumbling titan, the Thin Man stood impartial but observing. As the skyrise lost fortitude and came undone, he stood behind one of the long windowpanes. Most of the glass had shattered out of the frame, some remnants lay glittering upon the moldy carpet. This was not far from the building, nonetheless, he held no concerns.

The construct seemed to disintegrate, the cement walls dispersed as a fine dust while bars of metal and timber churned within the mishmash of mortar. A fierce sigh rushed across the windows, misting them with the ash of the fallen monolith. Suddenly, the building was no more, a gaping wound swirled in the dust rising in absence of a mighty sentinel. The mottled patterns of dust washed across the nearest buildings, the layers of soot bled and run away, forming tear tracks across the windows and ruined slabs of brick.

The Thin Man reached for the cigarette at his lips, but found the end obliterated in his confrontation with the Viewer. With a clean sigh, he flicked the stub away. The windows still vibrated with the memory of the fall, even after the tall thin man dissolved from the gloomy passage.

This arbitrary collision with a denizen of the signal does not leave his thoughts altogether, but he struggled not to ponder it too deeply. He was no stranger to the irrational bursts of the Viewers, even with a blasting television with the most enticing melodies, the beings could be distracted by something else. Though that was rare, and typically a trait unique to one Viewer.

However, these ponderings waned as his own focus drilled into other pursuits. The general layout of a putrescent city, the way the skewered roads snapped or curved and became swallowed within the ribcage of a fallen skyrise. If he could manage, he would prefer avoiding a route through the doors of a looming structure – with far too many corridors.

__

Nothing in particular stood out when he returned to the dwelling, where the boy had hidden as of late. He barely flashed from the lower floor, to the doorway of the residence, and glitched into the living area in a sizzling-pop.

He could not fathom why the boy lurked here. The structure itself was more decrypt, the floors ruptured in places, the furniture ruined, and tattered scraps of clothing discarded. As ever and always, he puzzled over the castoffs and the meaning.

While stepping past a crate, he nudged it with his shoes. Some insects evacuated the shelter. The Broadcast did not afford him unlimited insight into the past and once ways of the world; by his understanding, it could not resurrect a dead history. Instead, it recreated something, and offered that illusion to the gullible Viewers. Much of what he inherited came from the delusions of a dream, with only a vague grasp of snippets with no context and no meaning. The city languished, encrusted by the relics of a forgotten population. For a time, Denizens of the Signal struggled to maintain that lifestyle discarded by their ancestors, though, they could not hold the illusion for long. After the late events, he doubted they had illusions to throw themselves into.

The shared transmission cued him onto the child’s location. Along the way to the other rooms, in the opposite direction of the living space. He leaned down to peer into the room, and decide how to go about avoiding the kid.

Thankfully, something had nailed down the kid’s focus. He grimaced at the savagery the child undertook for the sake of gnawing out chunks. A genuine beast, no redeeming, and completely—

What was he chewing on?

The Thin Man inched into the room, his head struggling to grapple with what he already suspected, and his thoughts brawling against the horrific truth. It could not possibly be, but waging war with the fact was counterproductive.

His shadow draped over the boy, and with a choked grumble the child launched into a random direction. With the cigarette stub clutched in his arms. This could be the answer to why the boy was an unhinged brute.

“N̶̘̕Õ̴͜!̷̤͌ ̴͉̈ T̵͔̃h̶̩̓a̴͙͌t̸̫͒ ̵̢͗ I̷̭̎s̸͈̓ ̶̮͐ Ń̸̲o̸̳̚t̶̜̑ ̸̤̔ F̸̮̏o̵͕͊ỏ̴̺d̷͈̈!̶̱̌” He lunged for the boy, missing when his target zipped off the tables surface. A swift flick of his wrist sent the table sailing, opening a clear path to the child. The boy tore into another direction, the hat he wore was tucked low over his eyes as the child bounced across gaps in the floor panels. “N̴͕͝Ỏ̴̬!̵̨̃ ̶̖̂ N̵̗͆o̷̱͐N̶̺̍o̴̪̓N̷͙̎O̵̜͂N̷̺͠O̵̩̒Ń̵̤O̶̗̅!̵̯̎ ̵͈͊ M̶̨̈́O̷̢̿N̷̠̎Õ̶̪!̶͍͑”

The brat ducked behind a collapsing desk, but no sooner was the child out of sight did the man in the hat swing his arm back. “S̸̰͝t̶̮̄ȍ̷̭ṕ̶̝ ̴̟͒ R̵͓̂i̴̛̦g̸̭̾h̸̝̅ṭ̸͊ ̸̙̊ Ṫ̵͈h̷̹͋e̸̻͋r̴͓͝ë̷͕́!̶͕̑” This infuriating beast shot in another direction, while trying to tear into the stub more than ever!

In a glittery flash he arched above the boy, limbs canopied outward – well, his arms. “S̸̱̍t̸̙̊ö̷͉́p̶͉̂!̴̢́ ̴̪͛  D̵͓̀r̵̀͜o̷̗̊p̷̖̉ ̴͓̚ I̷͔̍T̷̙̕!̵͠ͅ ̴̥͛ S̴̬͑T̶́͜Ǫ̷̓P̸̣̊ ̸̥̄ M̸̳̌O̶͙̅V̵̮͘I̷̭̐N̴͚̓G̶̰̈!̴̗̔”

Th boy generated a half-bark and smothered whines, as he ricocheted between his palms, but before getting seized the child managed to roll away. This idiot mongrel! Ẅ̴̥́a̸͎̚s̸̥̄!  N̵̔͜O̷̩̓T̷͎̄ ̵̲͆  E̴̺̎v̴̮̅e̶̦̕ņ̶͐ utilizing his lackluster abilities!

When the child made a bolt for the doorway, the Thin Man managed to snag the boy around his leg in a full-bodied lunge. And finally! The child relinquished his iron hold on his ‘prize’. The Thin Man reeled his long body back and rose to his knees; he fortified his grip and gave the child a hasty examination.

“W̸̢͘h̴̛͖y̵͉͗ ̴̰͂ A̷͇̔r̷̛ͅȇ̷̖ ̷͉̎ Ỳ̸̭o̶̢͝U̶̾͜ ̴̧͛ L̶̔͜i̶̢̒k̸̪̃E̸̙͐ ̵̗͐ T̶̹̽ḧ̴̫́i̸̝͛Š̴̭?̴̘̿ ̵̩̂ W̸̹͛Ḧ̴ͅỴ̶͛ ̷̠̾ Ǎ̵͉R̸̂͜Ḛ̵́ ̸͔͌ Ý̴̞Õ̸͕U̴͓̎ ̴̘̽ L̷̲͐Ĩ̷͙K̶͎͝E̶͙͗ ̵͚̐ T̶͕̄H̴̛̤I̵̻̿S̵̜̚!̸̯̒” Answers would not be a priority. His thoughts sank into how much did the boy eat? Oh Eye, how much did he Ë̸̮̼Ả̸͚̓͘T̴̢̘̃̑?̸͎̹̠͌͛̽͘  He would rather not fixate on the temptation, but instead gaped at the soot-stained face blinking up at him. Ĥ̸̰̝̝̇̈́o̸͔̎W̴͍̗̯͍̐͗ ̶̛̭̼̽ M̸̧̛̮͈̀̂u̷̢̺̦̹͎͋͂͠c̴̞͎͂̿̃Ḩ̴̡͓̰̿̒̚?̶̣̜͛

“S̸̠͝p̴͓̎i̴̱͐Ť̴̞!̴̠̏  A̵̡͌l̴̨͌l̶͚̕ ̵̦̄ O̷̤̔f̶͈̚ ̵̓͜ I̶̺̓ṭ̴̅!̴͉̂ ̵̦̔ G̷̫̽o̵̢͐ ̵͈͒ Ó̸̝N̸̮̿!̷̞̾” The boy mewled as he crushed his face in his fingers. “A̵͓̒L̷̟̈L̷͙̀ ̷͒ͅ Ò̴̦F̶̖̀ ̴̻͋ Ḯ̵̥T̵͔͒!̸͙̈” But Ĥ̸̰̝̝̇̈́o̸͔̎W̴͍̗̯͍̐͗ ̶̛̭̼̽ M̸̧̛̮͈̀̂u̷̢̺̦̹͎͋͂͠c̴̞͎͂̿̃Ḩ̴̡͓̰̿̒̚ did he Ś̸̱w̶̻͝à̵̢ḻ̸̔l̴̲̂o̵͕͌w̴̹͐?̶͇̑  He tightened his hands around the boy’s middle, trying to decide how to do this. Children vomited when they became ill from consuming toxins (it was very common), but if they did not purge enough poisons, and not soon… . Was there a way to induce vomiting in a child before it fell ill? Before all was lost!?

The child expelled the most repulsive noise when squeezed around the middle, but not nearly enough physical matter. “C̵͙̈́o̵͖͝u̵̹͝g̶̨̍ḧ̴̹ ̷̭͝ I̸͓͊ẗ̶͎́ ̸̹̈́ U̴̥̽p̸̘̐!̵͙͝ ̸͔͒ Y̴̧͌o̴̼̎ų̵̊ ̵̟͆ D̷̺̓o̵̧͗  ̵̰̍N̴̡͘O̷̬̎T̴͖̔ ̸̻̔ E̵̥̋ä̷̹t̷͙̏ ̷͎̀ T̶̻̀h̷̲͝a̴̛͔t̶̨̓!̸̢͋  N̵͎̿̒͊͘͝ͅO̶͓̠̰̟̒̆̚!̶̢̛͍̹̤̺̟͋̐̊̆” He had not ‘eaten’ in decades. For the existence of him, he could not recall what the last edible was that he could stomach. I̸͚͐̋ț̵͌͘ ̴̬͇̅̈́ C̵̗͈̈͂ḙ̵̛̕r̵͕̈́́t̸̳̭̽͝a̵̛̫î̵̥͋n̸͓͋̄l̶͓̖̂y̵̡̅ ̴̧̣͌̕  W̸̟̳̿a̴̯̔s̵̨̛̝͝ ̶̓͜ N̸̼͆͒ō̷̡t̸̜̄ ̵͔̂ A̶͇̖̎̃ ̶͚͎̈́ D̴̗̈́́a̶̪͑̾m̸̥̔͑n̵̼͉͊ ̷̹̈̑ C̵̟̑i̴͚̖͊g̷̺̚a̵͇̼̒r̵̬̦͛͘e̵̢̳̊t̸͕̘̅̈t̸͚̞̃e̶̗̓̀!̵̖̯͐̎ Though the child hung like a frayed rag in his hands, the body shook and convulsed with each squeeze. “K̶̩̟̂̅ë̴̹́e̵̛͔͆P̴͚̅ ̶̠̫̽̕ G̸͙̗̈́ó̸͇i̶̧̔͝n̷̼͂̀ͅG̶̰̓̎!̵̣͉͆ ̵͚̰̕ T̴̖̹́ḩ̵̩̓̋a̸̹͌T̴̰͋ ̶̳̯̓ Ȋ̸͍s̴̯̣͋͌ ̶͉̦̈̌ N̸̠̅ö̴̭̦T̵͓͑ ̶̳́̎ A̵̬̒̈l̵̪͗̾L̸̓ͅ ̸̘̓ Ö̶͎̩f̸̧̈́͘ ̸̲̅̓ Í̵͖̖͠ţ̸̤̊̈́!̵̗̀̏” To be honest, he had no idea how much the child had choked down. One of two things would kill the boy, it was best to be certain.

“F̴̡͌o̴͍̽ö̷͓́ḏ̸͐,” the boy gargled. Between Tower-awful retches. “Tuh food—” He broke into hacking and wheezes, punctuated by disgusting black sludge.

“Y̸̭̟͛͗o̶̹̒u̸̬̚ ̸̡̌͌ D̶̼͗̏o̸̺̾ ̶̞̔ N̶̪̑ö̶̤͓́͝t̴̠̃  ̸̤͉̅E̶͉̺͌a̴̝̋T̵̠̒̀ ̵̱̀͛ T̷̠͝h̴͇̥̐̆ă̸͚̓T̸̘̥̾́!̵̗͑ ̵̖̌ Į̸͈̊t̴̢̻̍͝ ̷̙͓̀ I̷̡̐ṣ̸̈̒ͅ ̸̦̓ N̷̡͚͋̊ǒ̷̡͈Ť̷̼̘̀ ̶̰̫̀͝ F̵̧̒̊Ȯ̴̗̰O̵̹̹̍D̴̳͔͊́!̵̰̏” It did not appear more was coming up, aside from bile and some brown… he was afraid to dwell. He did try to coerce further contents up, but it seemed that was everything of peril.

The static crowded the small room, and threatened to ignite the only bulb dangling center above his hat. The child’s own hat had gone scarce, and the body trembled in his palms. This idiot boy. He was so intent on dying and destroying them both, not that he would have enduring issue beyond the deed. He could not leave this child to his own devices, without the boy demolishing something. Eating some… Ǧ̶̭͖̜̫̿͂̎̌Ą̷̛̺̳̟̮͇̏R̷̛̜̯̟͇̄͋̐̅̇͗́B̴̫͉̫̯̦̗̎Á̶̜̹̱͔̝͚͘G̴̛̗͇̖͖̗̔̎É̶͎̰̘͛̏̔͆̄͑͝!̷̦͓̥̀ right off the ground.

Once his nerves had settled a smidgen, he rolled the child over on his palm. “Ň̴͜o̸̢͋T̴͒ͅ ̷̠̚  F̷̫́ò̵̬o̴̩̍D̷͕͛!̴͔̎ ̷̛̰  D̴̮́ő̴̧ ̵̤̈  Y̸̜͝o̸̲̅u̵̜̎ ̸̗̓  F̸͐͜O̴̤̽L̴͎̍L̵̮͒Ȯ̸̘W̵̌͜?̴̨͊ ̷͍̉  Ṫ̴͜h̵͎̉a̸̲͊T̸͓͝ ̵̫͘  W̵̫͝i̴̦͘l̸͕̔Ḻ̸͘ ̶̓ͅ  M̷̮̂a̷͉͂k̶͙̂Ê̷̗ ̵͍͂  Ÿ̴̙́ö̶̧́U̷̙̽ ̷̝̈́  S̵͙̾i̶͈͌c̶͉̑K̷̹̏!̸̘͆” The boy did his best to stare, one eye slanted and his face fouled from vomit.

The boy mumbled and tried to curl down behind his arms.

“NONO! L̸̫̆o̸̝͝o̶̪͑Ǩ̷̡ ̶̺̀ Ḁ̸͌t̷͚̀ ̵͍́ M̵̧̋e̵̠͠!̴̯̀ ̶̛̞ T̸͈͊e̷̱̊L̵̟͐L̷̮͐ ̵͇̂ M̵̢͠ȩ̸̓!̶̟͊ You understand!” He brushed the arms off the face. “Look at me! Ţ̸̓h̴̺͐a̴̩̒T̶͍̂ ̸̨̚  I̶͎̚s̵̖̊ ̷̱̏  Ń̵͕ỏ̶̝Ṱ̵͐ ̵̮̅  G̸̭̾ǫ̷̐ó̵̢Ḏ̸͠ ̷̥́  F̵̤̊o̵͚͒R̴̰̆ ̸̪̆  Y̸͕͌ǫ̸͛U̴̗͑!̵̡̄ ”

The boy wheezed. “Y’eat.”

“Ỉ̸͜ ̸̰̄ D̵̪̒Ọ̸͆ ̴͕̾ N̶̲̋Ŏ̶̭T̵͖̓ ̶̪̾ E̴̥̋A̷̞̒Ṯ̵́ ̷͚̽ T̶̓ͅH̵̱͑Ă̷̮Ṫ̸̟.̸̫̚  N̷͙̊͌E̵̢̋V̴͈̆É̷̬̑R̶̢͓͒!̷̟̹̃͂  A̵̬̰̓̃m̶͙̳̽̃ ̶̪̟̚ I̶̡̽ ̸̀͜ Ǵ̴̫̟̕ẹ̷̆̓ͅt̷̟͌̑t̶͍͘ỉ̶̥͚n̵̰͠G̵̔ͅ ̵̞̂ T̷̰̈́͝ͅh̷̲̪̅̓ŕ̷̜ò̴̼u̶̮͗͝g̵̤͒͛H̴̨̬̿̔ ̶̗̅ T̵̢̳͘o̶̡͗̑ ̵͎̼̃ Y̶̌̆͜ọ̶̀͑Ụ̷͔̄͋!̴̨̋͑  Tell me! Do your speek!” The child stayed frustrating and uncooperative. A lump of skin in coat in the idea of a child. He gave the boy a shake. “What do I want from Y̸̡̩̙̣̥̹͊́̆́̊͆ô̷͍͕͌̂͑U̷̙̓̀̇!̸̻̺̉̏ Make that S̷̗͈̎͛͠p̶̘̱̈́̃ê̴̮͎e̵̢͚̯̘͕̎K̸̡͈̻̝̝͍͐̇! You know how to D̴̤̙̑o̶̭̼̓̕ ̶̩͎̀ T̷̤̰̉͑h̵͍̓͒i̴̗̠̽̏S̵͈̝̆!̷̖̞́̔  Y̸̪̦̕Ŏ̵̼U̷̡̻̐͌ ̶͖̏̇ K̵̃͜N̴̤̄̇O̷̪̭̊Ẃ̴͙̞̌!̸̼̅͠ͅ ̴̜͘  Y̸̟̆͠O̴͍̦̊U̴̙̕ ̴̡̿̊  K̵͙͔͊̏N̴̯̈́O̴͈͛̈́͜W̵̨̛̍ ̵͙̬̎͌  W̸͎͒͠H̷̖͂ͅÃ̵̺̬̏T̴̛̘ ̸̻͊̉͜  I̶̤͝͠ ̵̩͌͐  A̵͔͌̀S̵̜̎K̷͖̻͗!̶̠̾͠” The boy stole a breath,

“...ᵒᵏᵃʸ...”

Why was he so D̸̓̄̌͌͂̍͜i̷̧̱͎͙̱̺̔f̵̜͙̥̪̖͕̾͗̀̊ḟ̵̩̍̔̌̽̐͠i̷̗̲͈͍̗͆̄͂̄c̶͍̳̹̼͔̮̀̓̌ư̵̺̦̘̄͐̏̓̊l̸̯̙͍̟̝̠̥͗t̶̢̨̛̬͔̫̉̓͋̉̍͐͜?̸̻̫̘̑

“N̶̲̩̦̭̳̽̈͂̂͋Ò̷̻̣̠͎̳͛!̵̣͒̌  S̵̞̔a̶̗͊y̶̚ͅ,̵̤̌ ̵̖̈́  ‘̷̲̅I̶̯͊ ̴̼̅ U̷̝͐ń̸̻d̶̮̐ȩ̴͂r̴͛͜S̴̫̽t̸̡͝a̸͇͝ṇ̸̋D̸̡̍’̶̙͊.̷̜̕  ̸̟͝ Ṯ̶͆h̵͙̉a̶̙̍t̵̗̆ ̸͕̓  Ş̶́p̸̳͠ȅ̴̟ȇ̷̟ḱ̴͉!̵̜̐ ̴͖̿  T̸͇͂e̶̲͌l̸̪̈́l̸̺̀ ̵̓͜  M̶̫̆ẽ̷ͅ ̷̹̾  Y̴̰͠ö̸͍́ù̶̺ ̸͎̓  W̴̹͘ȋ̷͉l̷̜̋l̴̼̚ ̷̮̊  N̴̯̔Ë̸̞́V̴͎̊E̴͚͠R̸̙͝ ̶̟̾  D̷̢͒o̷̙̔ ̷͈͌  T̵̥͝h̵̏ͅa̷̰͝t̴̔ͅ ̶͖̐  A̴͍͘g̸̡̚a̵̪͝í̶̮ṉ̴̔!̸̠̏ ̴̺̀ I̸̩̔ ̵̭̔ W̴͚̕a̸͖͘ṋ̵̇t̶͈̄ ̴̪͗  T̸͈͊o̵̖͋ ̴̬̌  Ȟ̶̨ẻ̵͕ȃ̶̡r̵̫̄ ̴��͝  T̷͙͋ḥ̶͊a̷͉͗ṯ̵͊ ̷͖̂  F̸̳͑r̸͕̉ȏ̷͇m̵̪̈́  Y̴̛͉̱͂̚͠Ǫ̵͚̣̯͋̐̽͝Ư̵̧͇͍͙͑̚͝͝!̶̯͚̜͋͐̏͘͝” At last, the child began squirming.

“Down. Lemme… un’hurt.”

He fortified his grip and brought the boy closer to his eyes. “Not until you M̶̤̈́a̴̦͒k̸̤͒e̴̜͂ ̶͓̮̃ T̵͖̗̈́h̵̢̀͜a̴̠̖͋t̷̘̅̚ ̵̩̊ S̷̢̩̑̃p̸͉̬͂̀ẻ̵̮͙ḙ̷̼͐͊ḱ̸͇.̴̠͚͐ I am not hurting you.” He pinned the boys arms down. “I am A̷̪͓̿ș̶̓͜k̵̤̣͑i̸͙̾n̵͖̐g̶͍͂͒ ̸͊͜ F̷̞̹̎o̴̙͗́r̸̨̅̃ a response, boy. You will not C̸̥̽ó̸̮͍̓m̴̛͓͍p̷̣̆l̶̝̤͝í̶̯̻c̶̼̅â̶̱̝t̷̼͔͠E̷͈͆͛ ̷̯̇  T̸̢̘̒͝h̸̟̫̊͌ị̵͍̇̑S̵̰͝.̸̼͗̈́” He could not relent, or the child would go and do it all over. Had the child been eating the stubs? If so, what else was this boy E̴̩̣̓ả̴̬͝ͅt̵̠̏i̶̳͑ͅn̷̦̍͗ͅḡ̸̜̖ while unsupervised. That was most troublesome to confront. He was about to interrogate further, but the child was burbling his noises. Clumsy, as ever.

“Eh’kay. Er… n’der-stan. S’at. Und-Ehh…ahh’sand. T’at. Y’on’t Wah’do  ah‘gain. No. NoNo. Un’sand. Ah…stand. No.”

The Thin Man watched the child intently, debating if he should pursue his other suspicions and excavate the truth. That did not seem so important, while he observed the boy and listened to his gruff mutterings repeated verbosely. No. From here on, he would keep closer track of the child’s habits. He exhaled, and rubbed a thumb over the boy’s shoulder.

“That will do.” The twitchiness he could excuse, this time. The boy did not comply with his demands, aside from appeasing him. “You will not B̷̼̙͆e̵̖̮̓̿ ̴͎̼̄̅ N̵̤͖̊̀a̵̙̕̕u̵͔̜̕g̶͈̐h̷̳̬̀t̸̺̄̓ý̶͍͚́ and do that again? S̸͍̎c̶̨̛r̴̪̀ą̶͊t̶̰̆ç̵̐ĥ̷̤  ̸̧͐A̷̗̒r̴̹͊o̵̪͋u̵͇͌n̸̯͊ḏ̸͗ ̷̢̈́ A̵͕̕n̷͙̒d̷̊ͅ E̸̡͐â̸̡t̸͂́͜ ̸̙̽  F̵̊ͅi̶͎͇̒l̶̤̀̾ͅt̶̩͈̉h̴̙͓̕ ̴̦̓  A̷̩̒n̷̞͕̈̇d̶̪̩̀ ̴̜̟̂  R̸̫̮̆ṵ̶̖̾b̷̡̢͆b̶͇̭̀͝i̷̥̤̎ṡ̶̜͌ḧ̵͇̟́̀ ̶̐͜ ? T̶͍̊ͅh̸̻̓ǎ̸̪͜ẗ̸̮́ ̷̞͐̽ W̴̠̠̍̊i̷̔͝ͅl̴̢̅͝ľ̷̜̥̂ ̴̹̓͌  M̵̨̪̂a̷̡̭̐͆k̷͕̀̏ê̷̙̔ ̸̤͉̎̿  Y̶̱̬͐̓ô̶͉̻u̸̺̞̒ ̷̺̚  Ì̷̼l̸͊̍͜l̸̙̒͘.” The boy was back to his guarded silence. Very well. “That is not good for you. Do I Ṃ̷̐a̴̝̿k̶̖͝e̶̤͘  ̶̞̞͊̀ M̴̙̼͒y̵̗̍s̷̙̀̈́e̵̥̮͌̄l̸̏͊ͅf̵̙̃͐ ̴́̒ͅ  C̴͙͖̀͘l̷̖̥͌e̶̱̕ͅå̸̼̜r̴̦͍̓̽?̵̢͙̋”

The boy still shivered between his palms, and he looked more ashen than usual. Only time would tell whether this interference had been enough, or if any of his pursuit would amount to anything more than a repeat of this crisis. All he had was time. All the time in the….

With a hasty glimmer, he returned to a normal stance and shimmered within a ripple of static. A dull pop greeted his displacement, upon arriving within the archway of the kitchen. He kicked aside wrappers and containers on his way to the sink. Wisps of crackling static snapped drawer doors open, while his free hand rummaged for essential supplies - despite the abundance of cutlery or odd items meant for meal prep, among rows of junk. At last he a hovel of rags sprouted from a musty slot and stole one up. A curl of glittery sparks dealt with the handle of the tap, and greasy a trickle began in the stained basin. The hand gripping the towel tapped at the countertop, as he waited for the sludge to clear out.

Throughout this, the boy remained passive in his grip, even as he set him on the counter. After all the erratic disasters of the child just zooming off despite a need for examination, the Thin Man kept his grip latched on the boy’s middle. Should the child need an activity, he set a spare rag on the spindly legs. Once the water from the faucet cleared, he dunked the rag into the stream and began wringing – one handed. With the fabric dampened, he began brushing off the dry soot from the coat, and soaking the child’s greasy face. The little mongrel was complicit, likely biding for the desired opportune moment to launch. Not on his watch. He scrubbed some of the dirt and black streaks out of the hair, then worked a bit on the face when the grime at last began to melt. This was going very well. He could even ignore the eyes gaping at him, if he moved the boys head and concealed the pale face with a thumb.

“Mm,” the voice croaked, as he worked to soak some of the stains embedded in his backside. “Do… n’like. Am’eh?”

Once more, what the Tower?

“Mmm?” He tried to push the face away and focus on some of the more stubborn discoloration, like the B̴̮̈́l̴͉̰̄ö̵̼͝o̴̪̹͐̽d̶̝͒ on the sleeves. Despite his efforts, the boy managed to glimpse him. He subverted the issue by rotating the child around, and focused on the grease embedded in the coat. How in the Eye was it possible to be more grunge than fiber?

“Like’am. Do like to am? Mono? Like am... does like'am? I am Mono.” The Thin Man puzzled over the butchered phrasing. Ah.

“Do I… like you?” The boy tried to glance over his shoulder and nod. Hmm. “No. Not particularly. Why?” He rinsed the rag out of black gruel. Yuck. The boy needed proper cleaning, but he was not enthused by the prospect and all the drama that would entail. “What gave you an idea like that?” A minor squelch of static cut the tap off, and he resumed dabbing at the coat.

The boy shrugged. Predictable. What reason did the child have for strange ideas? Children did not reflect on much beyond their own world. All of the boy’s ambitions came from a self-serving mindset. That is why he and this child languished in such a stalemate. The child managed to release the man in the hat, but faltered at the brink of satisfying his purpose.

“There is much to discover in this world, Á̵͎n̸̝͗d̷͙̔ ̶̬̅ Ö̵̺́f̷̧̈́ ̸̣̐ Y̴͇̎ȍ̷̝ṳ̵͆r̶̢̚ ̶̣̚ P̷̹̆l̶̫͘a̷͕̓c̴̳̃e̷̝̎m̷͕̉ẹ̶͆n̶̺̿t̴̠̽.̴̡͂” He wiped the dirt stains off the hands and examined each of the fingers. Who would have known there was a whole child under all that gunk? “And no one T̵̨̟̍̀ö̴͚̚  ̶̤͇̔̀ G̵̛̣u̸͇̖͑̍i̵͕͐̚ͅd̷̨͇̂̓e̸̯̰͆ ̶͓̝̎ Y̵̥͑̓ŏ̷̪̠͝ṷ̶́.̸̧̝̍”

Once upon a time, he thought all the answers he wanted would come, if he managed to seize the catalyst of all his problems. What he did not know was that he was still on the other side of the door, awaiting a peek within.

“You believe you are deserving of something more. Ỉ̸̭ŝ̵͜ ̵͈͠  T̶͚̐h̷̟͒a̷̤̓ţ̴͗   ̴̧́Ï̸̝ṱ̵̈́?̴͕̊” He tried to think of the districts he wandered, of what he sought in those oppressive roads and empty buildings. What did he see when gazing into the skyline, and the Signal Tower glared back? He was angry and lost and alone, just like the child he was before the Tower accepted him. As it were, took him back. His prison and the sanctuary of his melancholy.

The boy squirmed around in his grip, until he was fully twisted around and staring at him. And hugging the rag left on his knees. Most of the quivering had dispelled, though the boy would forever be jittery. Nothing would ever rehabilitate such imprinted instincts.

“I said a lot to you, didn’t I?” He rung the rag one final time and soaked at the shadowed-haze lingering over the strange little eyes. “Something about ‘undoing crimes and make amends’, hmm? S̴͕̔o̷̦͝m̴̜̽ë̵̗ ̵̯͆ T̵̛̮h̴̟̀ị̵̏ṉ̶̛g̸͉͊s̴̗̎ ̸̩͐ N̷͍̈ė̵͖v̶͇̆è̸͕r̷͈͒ ̸̮̀ C̸̮͠h̵̨̛a̵͚͌n̶̠̚g̶̢͒e̸̛ͅ.̴̖͝ ̸̅ͅ  H̷̬͘e̴̅͜h̸̦̽-̸̨̋h̷͈͂ę̶͗h̴͍͠.̸̳̎” The boy leaned into his palm and shut his eyes. “Alas, that is not who I am. This is not O̷̩̚ư̴͓r̷̲̎ ̴͉̈́  R̵̢̓o̷͚̾l̴̊͜ĕ̶͔ ̷̯͋  I̷̖͒n̸͕̽ ̴̟̍  Ț̶͘h̶̳̋ì̸̺s̴͙̍ ̶̞̕  W̸̬̊o̷̩̚r̵̛̘l̸͖̐d̶͓̃.̶̘́ Everything…. All of it Ḯ̶͉ṡ̴͚ ̵͇̈́ P̶̙̀o̸͇͐ì̴̻n̸̹͐t̸́ͅl̵̠̑ĕ̶͇ṣ̸͘ș̷̽.̷̛̤” He chucked the damp rag into the bottom of the sink, prompting the boy to wince and blink up at him.

“We are not meant for this.”

“R’not to company?” The Thin Man frowned, but carefully rubbed the back of the boys head.

“You are... not really company. The way you are... you are not right. That will all be amended, and you will have your world back. T̷̢̚h̷̘͘ȩ̶̚ ̸̩̓ W̸͕̓a̷̻͌y̶̥̓ it was meant Ṫ̷̹o̸̹̓ ̶͓͗ P̷̩͑l̵̡͘a̶̻͒y̶̠͗ ̷͎̔ O̷͙͂u̴̖͆t̸̗̏.̷̬̃  T̶̫̅h̷̫͘ḯ̵̗ŝ̶͓ ̷͇̈ I̴͓̾s̴̯͛ all an E̷̗̋l̶͉̽a̵̾͜b̶̛͔ȯ̸̢r̶̹͌ḁ̷́t̵͍̀ḙ̶̑  ̷̪̋G̵̥͂a̴̓ͅm̷͚̕è̵̡, wherein we A̶̻͝r̴͈͒ȅ̵̹ ̷̳̀ Ť̵̳h̴͍́e̸̳͘ ̴̝͆ P̸͚̈a̷͗͜w̵̠͛n̴̗̑s̷̲̀, and very little agency to Ā̷̖l̸̨̒t̸̼͝e̵̛͇r̶̢̔ ̶͉̏ T̵̺͠h̷͖̑e̸̤͑ ̴̲̓ E̸͙̊v̸̬̓e̷̬͑n̴͖̓t̴̗̎ṷ̷̈́a̷̼̔l̵̖̅s̴̪͆ of D̶͚̏ę̸̛s̴̻̎t̴̳̑í̷̯n̵̘̆ȳ̵͍.̷͙̀” A miniscule huff flexed between his fingers. No denying he had nothing worth giving the boy, but the child would have to live with disappointments. Such as his self.

“It is beyond what you can comprehend, but it will reach you later.” He patted the boy on his back. “Much later, but all the same. Yours. Then all your questions will be answered, and you will know more than you E̵̻͗v̴̹͠ë̶̬́r̴͚̓ ̵̞̈́ Ć̴͈ä̸͔́r̶͓̀e̵͖̐d̴̼̊ ̴̰́ T̶͔̍o̴̠͗.̸̹̕ Perhaps, more than you C̸͖͆ó̴͔u̷̻̒ḽ̷̈d̶̙͆ ̸̜̔ Ĥ̴͓á̶̺v̵͉̉e̷̖̾ ̷̳̚ P̷̜̕r̵̥̋é̸̳p̵͍̀a̴̡̕r̷͓͠e̴͇̅d̵͓̕ ̴̪̀ F̴͌͜o̸̩͋r̵͙͆.̷̟̐”

A soft hum and a cough, rattled the boys chest. He rubbed the boy’s back, until the gagging soothed out.

“It will make sense when you arrive where you belong. I will be there, and you will know all is… W̶̖̒ę̴̕l̶͙̎l̸̤̑.̵̘͑” The boy fumbled between his hands, trying to look at him.

“But is for’gether. That important. Have Mono.”

Pointless ideas that died in the perpetually dying world. “Why is it important? Tell me. W̸̱̌h̵̦̾ỳ̶̭?̸̰͒” The child was satisfied to fiddle with the cufflink on his wrist, and probably wanted to bite him again. If he was not cautious, the child might try eating him.

 “Mm… same. Have same.”

He snorted and giggled. Oh, this poor boy. Could learn nothing. Why bother with any of his hard earned lessons.

“We are too much same,” the Thin Man hummed. “It does not work. Ị̸̀t̷͙͠ ̵̦̓N̶̖̆ȇ̶̼v̸̨̋e̵͉̎r̴̃͜ worked. G̶̤̈́õ̶̯i̸̭͌n̵̯͝ĝ̸̫ ̷͙͌F̵̛̫o̶͉̿ṛ̵͗w̵̡̏a̶͇͘r̵̳͠d̵̞͂,̵͉̈́ ̸̰̂ it shall Ǹ̶͍è̷̜ṽ̵̧ę̴͒r̴͖̉ ̶͇̆Ẃ̸̫o̴̘̾r̷̨͘ḱ̶̗.̶̗͝ ̶̮̆T̶̜̓h̶̩̆a̶̡̛t̵̞̒ too you will H̸̟̉a̴͖̿v̶̖̈́ẽ̵̢ ̴̭̔ to ̵̨͑learn for Y̷̤̕o̵̗̓ů̵̬r̵̲͘š̷̺e̵̺̒l̴̯͝f̵͎̾.̴͈̆ ̷̗͘W̶̥͝h̷̛̯â̸̝ṫ̴ͅe̷̛͜v̵̦͝e̸͙̕r̴̗͝ ̷̼̌H̷͖̄â̵ͅp̷̛͔p̶̥͛e̵͇̔n̶̙͠s̸͇͌,̸̱̑whatever you do ̴͎͒N̶͖͐ő̶̡t̵̬͆h̸͊͜i̶̩̐ñ̴̮g̸̏͜ will ever change. W̵̰͊e̴̝̾ ̶̰̽ do not C̵̫͝h̷͚͆a̶̤͐n̵̡̽g̸̼̿e̸̞̓.̸͔̀”

That one constant was an assuring promise. After everything he broke and ruined, there was something to return to. A Place awaiting to erase everything. He could rewind it all and start over. Even if he would miss the child, just a bit. The boy had these moments that came from somewhere distance, and beyond the reach of the treacherous Signal Tower. But as the cycle foretold, all events and machinations would come to their conclusion. The world would be erased, and once more a child would return to the world - a child brimming with ruthless passion, curiosity, and idealistic fantasies. For a blink in the timeline, that boy had someone something to fight for - until his world was crushed and cast aside.

In the meantime, he needed to explain a few things to the boy.

Next

[takingback-thepenguin]

Since three more episodes have come out, here is a list of more sentence starters from Shipwrecked’s web-series, Headless: A Sleepy Hollow Story, this time from episodes 4, 5, and 6. Some of the lines have been edited to fit as sentence starters, and feel free to change pronouns/add names/etc as you see fit. Tw: Death, food, smoking mention, violence/killing mention, blood, general tws that go with The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.

Episode 4: The Star on the Stage

“To make matters worse, he's/she’s/they’ve got a crush.”

“Maybe she'll/he’ll/they’ll see that he's/she’s/they’re just mmmm...not that appealing.”

“Oh, come on, man.”

“How's the landlord?”

“I’m just waiting for her/him/them to wake up and accuse me of murder.”

“Go lock the door.”

“I don't have long.”

“His/Her/Their tombstone says he/she/they died in 1776!”

“What the-? This is trippy as hell.”

“My hands smell like hands.”

“Oh snap! I'm alive!”

“Yo, this is tight!”

“Being six feet underground was a bit of a bummer.”

“I died doing what I loved.”

“Whoops.”

“Why does your tombstone say you died in 1776?”

“I'm committed to being the best re-enactor there ever was.”

“You guys got any hot Cheetos?”

“This is a disaster.”

“I have to go to this show.”

“_____’s saving me a seat.”

“Yoooo, is this you??”

“Whoa, look at that!”

“That's funny.”

“Oh, my God. Your yearbook!”

“Are you sitting backwards in a chair?”

“They told us to do that.”

“_____ wrote "Butts!!"

“It's been a wild ride.”

“Thanks for everything.”

“See you on the other side.”

“Wow. Ominous.”

“We've been through a lot.”

“She/He/They want(s) me to invite you.”

“You don't sound very enthused.”

“It's just, I don't really—”

“I would love to!”

“Oh, my gosh, I love live theatre.”

“I love live anything.”

“Get it?”

“This guy/gal/one gets it.”

“Hey, can we stop at a 7-Eleven on the way there?”

“Do those still exist?”

“All right, whatever. Cool.”

“Aren't you going to sing about this?”

“Bard Union says I need to take a four hour break every 30 minutes.”

“How do you get into the bard union?”

“_____! You made it.”

“Oh hey, I'm _____.”

“Hey, maybe we should all stop talking because the show's about to start.”

“I think our production of this annual tradition is going to blow your socks off!”

“Art is messy.”

“Enjoy the history of Sleepy Hollow!”

“I was in this play when I was ten! Really got me into history.”

“Oh, hi! I didn't see you there.”

“You sure did spook me.”

“Wait a minute. That's my job.”

“Um, wrong.”

“To tell you my story, I need to start from the beginning.”

“Ugh, do your research!”

“Lunchable?”

“Cutie?”

“I got an idea!”

“What have I done? What have I done?”

“Man, I know so much stuff. I really wasted my potential.”

“Ham?”

“Hey, _____. What are you doing after this?”

“Shut up.”

“This is my favorite part.”

“My mom used to tell me this story when I was a kid. Freaked me out so bad.”

“The Woman in White is said to haunt the woods, alerting those who pass to steer clear! Lest they be caught in a deadly storm, as she was.”

“Stay away from Raven Rock!”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“I am not jealous of _____.”

“Okay, boss.”

“That's ten miles away.”

“They have a spa there I just love.”

“I have a referral.”

“Are you, a grown man/woman/person, actually asking about the logistics of ghost hauntings?”

“Uh, the other kids are asking if you can drive us to Denny's.”

“Oh, fine.”

“No singing.”

“Has anyone ever figured out how that story began?”

“That stuff's poisonous.”

“I'll go stop him/her/them.”

“I have to get back to work anyway.”

“If I leave _____ alone too long, things start disappearing into other dimensions.”

“Well, I got to go to work, too, right? Work on making lunch! Yeah!”

“Tuna sandos! Less red meat!”

“So? You, uh...headed back to the graveyard soon?”

“Why would he/she/they go to the graveyard?”

“I've hotboxed in the mausoleum!”

“I don't know if you can tell, but I party.”

“I coulda used that during the historical abomination we just witnessed.”

“Hit me!”

“Oh, my God!”

“This is—“ “A scientific anomaly?”

“This is incredible!”

“My mother used to tell me stories about the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow.”

“I wish my mom was here to meet you.”

“_____’s been, like, casting spells.”

“It's a whole group thing.”

“I-I promised my dad I'd watch _____ with him this afternoon, but I really want to help.”

“Things are getting interesting with you around, _____.”

“Well, looks like that blew up in your face.”

“I knew she'd/he’d/they’d be DTF. Down to…find. The head.”

“It's a little risky for me right now.”

“You kind of owe me one.”

“I want her/him/them to represent me in court tomorrow.”

“Coast is clear. Let's boogie.”

“Let's boogie, _____.”

Episode 5: The Chaos In Court

“Where have you been?”

“Your court date starts in 10 minutes.”

“He/She/They was/were acting so weird.”

“Just…go look, go look over there.”

“Check it out!”

“Something tells me that she’s/he’s/they’re not an attorney at law.”

“Hey, what's up fam?”

“Hey, sorry I've been AWOL for a minute.”

“I'm going to be real with you for a second.”

“It totally bummed me out.”

“Okay, bye. Nice.”

“Check it out.”

“Hey, introduce yourself, man!”

“Oh, man! Pantsed!”

“Oh man. I look great.”

“Who would want more of this?”

“So many people want more of this.”

“Oh, who, me?“

“What's up? I'm waiting on an important delivery.”

“Are you helping _____?”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“We don't have a lot of time.”

“Okay, stop. I know!”

“We need to be able to trust each other!”

“Why is it that I see you every day?”

“Oh, no! What a bummer.”

“'Sup, _____?”

“Your beachy locks are looking particularly effortless today.”

“Prove it.”

“I bet you're really, really happy with yourself.”

“That was...very hard to hear.”

“I think of myself as the Marty McFly of my life, obviously.”

“Am I the villain?”

“Did I just Biff my relationship with _____?”

“Candygram for _____!”

“These are on loan from the town archives.”

“I'm going to need you to be exceptionally careful.”

“Don't, like, use them as coasters or get any of your fake blood on them.”

“I'm talking to you.”

“It wasn't fake.”

“I'll be back for these soon.”

“Don't forget to stretch at least once an hour.”

“Thanks, _____.”

“I know how you can make it up to _____.”

“You can help me sort through all these documents.”

“Pound it.”

“Oh, no thanks.”

“Guilty!”

“Not guilty! I mean, of...of crime.”

“I’m guilty of being _____. I'm _____.”

“You were—you wanted to know if I was _____?”

“Oh, God. I feel sick.”

“Oh, hey, Pepto?”

“Good call.”

“Please, I need to stay under the radar and just get through this.”

“And this is...?”

“I'm the defendant's counsel, _____.”

“I may not have a law degree, but I do have plenty of unpaid parking tickets.”

“Is that...the newest iPhone?”

“I'm looking to upgrade.”

“How is the camera on that?”

“Interesting! Let's talk after.”

“You are charged with trespassing.”

“I might have known.”

“Can you please recount the events of that day?”

“There I was, working the graveyard shift—literally—when I came across this ne'er-do-well doing no well.”

“Is this true?”

“Were you doing no well?”

“You're supposed to be helping me!”

“Hey, you can't handle the truth, man!”

“Hey, I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”

“Boom! That's what two years at Houdini Summer Camp for Children will getcha.”

“My socials need a glow-up! Can you help me?”

“I got you.”

“Oh man, you're drenched!”

“When did you have time to make all this, slime?”

“Do not try this at home.”

“I am a licensed prankster.”

“I have my degree in biochemistry from MIT.”

“I got 50 hours of community service.”

“Hope you're happy.”

“You hungry?”

“What I did was supremely uncool.”

“Using our magical abilities to thrust you into the clutches of an unjust legal system was very unchill of me.”

“I’m filled with regret.”

“Not to stress you out any more, but my dad wants to have you over for dinner tomorrow.”

“That actually might not be true.”

“We did some digging.”

“I got to head home.”

“I promised Dad I'd watch _____, but, um...I'lI see you tomorrow?”

“You won!”

“Will murdering _____ cheer you up?”

“I guess just look for a giant yogurt truck!”

“Oh, you guys got me so good.”

“Prankster becomes the prankee. Nice!”

“Oh my God, my head.”

“Choose your destiny.”

“Where am I?”

“What's happening?”

“No, no, no. It's okay.”

“You're like, um, a magical zombie.”

“Everything's okay!”

Episode 6: The Distractions At Dinner

“No! Don't hang up. Don't hang up.”

“You have to stop calling me.”

“I think I could really help you!”

“No, _____ you can't come here.”

“I'm so good at characters.”

“I took an improv class and I never even got to the show.”

“Please let me do this!”

“_____ will recognize you.”

“I'm trying to impress _____.”

“I can't have a weird ghost zombie showing up.”

“_____ is going to investigate while he's/she’s/they’re distracted.”

“I have to go.”

“I missed the whole song!”

“Dude, that was my best stuff.”

“Can you play it again?”

“Our sacrifice to the Pagan gods is here.”

“_____, my good man/woman/person, our guest of honor! Welcome.”

“Does _____ need any more help in the kitchen?”

“She's/He’s/They’re finishing up.”

“Any more vagrant sightings at the Old Dutch House?”

“Hope she/he/they wake(s) up soon.

“You know about that.”

“Oh, you heard?”

“Look out! We have a new resident bad boy/girl/one!”

“What are you doing?”

“There could be invisible lasers!”

“Your DNA is getting everywhere!”

“Oh, my blood.”

“Is there DNA in blood?“

“Is there DNA in blood? I sure hope not cause it’s everywhere.”

“You can see where she/he/they get(s) her/his/their good looks!”

“She/He/They got her/his/their obstinate streak from Yours Truly.”

“She/He/They wrote the book on local legends.”

“There wasn't a haunted rock or a bewitched gas station within 100 miles that she/he/they didn't know about.”

“Before you leave, pick up a few of her/his/their books and read up.”

“Uh, did she/he/they ever mention the Headless Horseman?”

“Oh, haven't you seen him/her/them yet?”

“You're not a true resident of Sleepy Hollow until you think you've seen the Headless Horseman.”

“She/He/They always thought the best of people.”

“She/He/They got taken with conspiracy theories.”

“Not sure where we lost her/him/them.”

“Wonder who that could be.”

“There's um, someone here for you.”

“Hey, how are ya?”

“I parked in a red zone, but they don't ticket on weeknights.”

“Nice to meet ya.”

“I hope you don't mind, I brought my Dunkies.”

“I'll, uh, set another place.”

“I must say, _____, I have a feeling we've met before.”

“I don't think so.”

“I have one of these.”

“Now that is sus.”

“What do you do?”

“I just got recruited by the CIA, actually.”

“You know, CSI, SVU, NBC, you know.”

“They've been scoutin' me for a while due to my ability to solve crimes.”

“Turns out? I'm wicked good at it!”

“That's a noble pursuit.”

“Public safety, justice, it all sounds thrilling!”

“You know, I've heard there's actually a lot of paperwork involved. Not like on TV.”

“I’ve never done any paperwork.”

“Whoa, check this out. It's a manuscript.”

“I often wonder if I'd ever have the chance to meet the ghost myself.”

“Perhaps this weekend, l'll finally come face to face with destiny.”

“I'll be ready.”

“Where would I put the evidence? Maybe in an old phone like this?”

“Go long!”

“Why?”

“Shhhhh.”

“This is, like, a million years old.”

“This is real leather.”

“I really hope she's/he’s/they’re not up here working.”

“Uh, we can explain!”

“_____ and I are in love!”

“We're meeting here for our lover's rendezvous.”

“It's the last place anyone would think to look for us!”

“I noticed you're admiring the chandelier.”

“We try not to speak about him/her/them.”

“More rolls?”

“I think you might be interested in a little dessert.”

“It's an old family recipe.”

“Shall we?”

“Oh, my God, you guys, that's amazing!”

“How long has this been going on?”

“I'd marry her/him/them...if I could.”

“Who would accept us?”

“Oh, God your skin is so cold.”

“You know what? I can marry you right now, I'm ordained!”

“It's, like, a lot.”

“No, no. There's no need.”

“Weddings are expensive.”

“There's so much to do!”

“My mom's not here.”

“Oh, I insist.”

“Hooray.”

“It's me!”

“I know.”

“I told you to stay home.”

“They're in my ear, like, telling me cool stuff to say.”

“This is the dumbest idea.”

“I heard that!”

“They told me to say that.”

“Now if you could just, uh, sign here and here for me.”

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

“You may kiss the bride.”

“I can't do it. I cant do it.”

“Do it, do it. Do it. Oh, God!!”

“I always cry at weddings.”

“What makes you so sure he's/she’s/they’re responsible anyways?”

“The last thing I remember is _____ giving me a drink and then pain.”

“He/She/They poisoned you? Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“I was a great assistant.”

“I'm, like, very good at accents.”

“Try to remember!”

“You have to go.”

“I am so close to getting a confession!”

“High time for pie time!”

“Look who I found.”

“I thought we might raise a toast.”

“You sure you don't want a piece of this delicious pie?”

“Sox game starts in ten.”

“Thanks for dinner.”

“I'm watching you.”

“Lovely to meet you.”

“Listen, if you're ever back in town, don’t be a stranger.”

“I am not a stranger.”

“Oh, excuse me.”

“Don't touch my pie, _____.”

“Okay, what is going on? Who was that?”

“I just picked one at random.”

“Here's the thing, and it's funny. You're—You're going to laugh.”

“She/He/They think(s) that your dad killed her/him/them.”

“I know, It's crazy! Pie?”

“Why would my father kill her/him/them?”

“You don’t think that she/he/they knew something?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“You're actually taking her/him/them seriously?”

“I think you should leave.”

“Get out!”

“Please don't.”

“We had a deal. And I am not renegotiating it.”

[kyliejcnncr]

What is the worst dare you ever gave someone in a game of truth or dare?

HONESTY HOUR: Ask me anything. Nothing is off limits. me and my dad got kendall to hold a cigeratte to look like she was smoking to get mom to stop and mom just ended up flipping out....though does that count as a dare? // @kcndolljcnncr

[riptozier]

( currently takin a quick sm.0ke break but i will DEF be on in like ~30 to get to things !!! )

[allelitewrestlings]

[incorrectbatfam]

Bruce: There he is, my sweet baby.

Jason, holding a cigarette and beer: What?

[sinfvlwishs]

( god i really wanna do a sm0king w33d thread with one of the boys here sjdfhskjdfh )

[xtinyslip]

THIS IS NOT YOUR PROBLEM. IT’S NOT YOUR PROBLEM. JUST KEEP WALKING. DAMN IT! what kind of jerk just walked away when people clearly needed help? he was trying to be better, he was trying to make an active point of being better and this -- just walking away wasn’t better. joe had been outside in the smoking area when the drama started. of course, it was probably one of the richest douchebags here that started it. why was he not surprised? still, who knew smoking would actually save his life? because he was pretty sure it had. who knew? “hey! hey it’s okay!” well, this definitely wasn’t okay... smooth but what else was he going to say? if we don’t get out of here we’re going to die? NOT HELPING. had they been trying to get to the smoking area too? rushing to them, he held out his hand. “give me your hand! give me your hand! it’s okay! i’ll help you get out of here, alright? i’m not going to leave you behind.” unfortunately... today was a really sucky day for his subconscious to grow a pair. @walstarterblog​

[sandeewithtwoe]

erm, if youre doing requests... dream/dust? i really love stardust and i think they need more fanart

Oooo I’ve never heard of this ship before! Stardust is a very cute name for it

I’m sure Dust would be a great bad influence :)

“If it gets too overwhelming for you, I have some cigarettes in my pocket” is probably what Dust is saying

Dream belongs to Jokublog

Dust belongs to ask-dusttale

[takingback-thepenguin]

Starkid’s Nightmare Time Sentence Starters: Killer Track

I’m not quite sure if anyone else has done this yet, but here is a list of sentence starters taken from Starkid’s Nightmare Time season 2 episode 3, part 2: Killer Track. Some of the lines have been edited to fit as sentence starters, and feel free to change pronouns/add names/etc as you see fit. Tw: death, smoking mention, food, sexual themes.

“Let's go!”

“No need to run away, you little runaway.”

“The nightmare will get you soon.”

“No need to contemplate how deeply that you're afraid.”

“Your life is a waning moon.”

“It's a matter of time.”

“It's all by design.”

“You can run, but are you fast enough?”

“You can hide, but I will find you.”

“You can run if I don't catch you.”

“Tick, tock, baby!”

“Take every precaution, babe.”

“Do you even understand the danger that you are in?”

“You're standing on shaky ground.”

“I'm in your head and you know it.”

“Nothing that you can do about it.”

“Come down from that tree!”

“Just run away if you want, if you dare.”

“Are you ready?”

“Your set rocked.”

“I’m afraid I have to agree with you.”

“Hey, dude. There’s, like, no smoking back here.”

“Wait a minute. Agree with what?”

“Your set. It was shit.”

“Kick his/her/their ass, _____.”

“What’s the big deal? You said it yourself.”

“There’s a difference, dude! We don’t know you.”

“Come on. Let’s go to Denny’s.”

“_____. You coming?”

“You’re not gettin’ any fries.”

“Hey...what’s your name?”

“Why do you care?”

“So, _____...you wanna hear some real hardcore shit?”

“It’s called...the Killer Track.”

“Isn’t that off the False Lashes’ new EP?”

“No one knows who wrote it.”

“No one knows where it came from.”

“That explains why no one knows who wrote it.”

“Seems like a shitty way to grow your fanbase.”

“Is this a fuckin’ joke to you?”

“This song has killed before, and it’ll kill again.”

“They say it gets in your head. Haunts you. It breaks you. Then...it takes you.”

“That’s what it said on Reddit.”

“What a stupid gimmick to get people to listen to your crappy single.”

“Hey, if you’re scared, get out of the car.”

“Go listen to some weak ass shit like the False Lashes.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Hiya, _____. Thanks for coming.”

“So, how’s/how’re she/he/they doing?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“Twelve thousand dollars. That’s how much damage she/he/they did.”

“You never should’ve bought her/him/them that goddamn guitar!”

“She/he/they in here?”

“Wow. They’re a pain in the ass.”

“I’m a classic rock fan, myself.”

“I work with families. Help where I can.”

“I heard about your...incident at Guitar Zone.”

“You smashed a few speakers, a drum set, a couple guitars.”

“Just ‘cause Pete Townshend did it, doesn’t mean we all can.”

“You’re not sleeping.”

“You wanna talk about what’s going on?”

“You mind if I hang out for a while then?”

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”

“Nothing can stop it.”

“Everything he/she/they said would happen, happened.”

“I started hearing it. Everywhere. On the radio. The TV. From the goddamn speakers at Guitar Zone!”

“I just wanted to make it stop.”

“So there. A song’s gonna kill me. Think I’m high?”

“See? I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“A killer song. That is... unbelievable. But I’ve been doing some digging.”

“Sometimes, unbelievable things happen here.”

“Order up!”

“Heya, Darlin’.”

“Lemme guess. You’re _____.”

“Love the make-up. Real...spooky.”

“I just gotta close up.”

“You want some pie?”

“Great. My life is in the hands...of Barbie.”

“So _____ tells me you’re a musician.”

“I used to play music too. A long time ago.”

“What’s with the candles?”

“I’ve got a plan.”

“We’re gonna need the darkness, and the flame, and the smoke.”

“Just think of it as aroma therapy.”

“You’re right. That’s all I needed.”

“You call yourself a specialist?!”

“I could get this shit at Bath & Body Works!”

“I knew this was a waste of time!”

“I don’t have to do anything. I’m outta here!”

“_____, relax and eat your pie.”

“Make me.”

“It’s good, right?”

“If you wanna walk out of here alive, I’m gonna need some cooperation. ‘Kay?”

“You’re, like...a witch!”

“I thought I was Barbie.”

“Is that your spell book?”

“Now that’s an album cover. That’s fuckin’ metal.”

“Close your eyes. Breathe in. And out.”

“The van. I want you to reconstruct it in your mind’s eye.”

“What did it look like?”

“What’d it smell like?”

“The clock on the dashboard. What time does it say?”

“Now take my hand.”

“Are you still in the car, _____?”

“Ugh...what is that smell?”

“Oh, god. Is that you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t give me shit after I took your ass to the Bell.”

“We didn’t hook up, did we?”

“Y...You wanna hook up?”

“I can’t change things too much here.”

“Can you just play this song so I can leave?”

“Breathe, _____. Just breathe.”

“Wha...? What’s happening?”

“You’re in _____. Remember?”

“The song. Why can’t I remember it?”

“It’s just a teeny, tiny paradox. They happen all the time.”

“You want another piece of pie?”

“So...that’s it then? If I never heard the song, it’s not hunting me...I’m safe?”

“You’re safe.”

“You did it...you broke the curse!”

“I took the curse.”

“Okay. When the song attacks, I’m gonna hear it coming from anything with a speaker. Right?”

“It’s gonna be loud. Like, front row at Slayer loud.”

“You’ll do anything to make it stop. Break anything. Instruments. Electronics.”

“Right. I totally forgot about my phone.”

“I thought my 7 Plus was old.”

“_____, can we have a chat?”

“I just wanna make sure everything’s safely locked away.”

“I don’t wanna lose control and cause twelve thousand bucks of damage to this place.”

“You didn’t tell me the whole plan.”

“That’s why I have to stop it.”

“Stop it?! We don’t know what it is.”

“What if you can’t stop it?”

“What if it’s...I dunno...a ghost? Or something?”

“If it’s a ghost, I’ll trap it in this jar.”

“I’m not worried about that.”

“What if it’s one of those monsters from your book?”

“I’m not gonna lie to you.”

“There are things out there above my pay grade.”

“If something happens to me, I want you to read this.”

“Don’t read it now. Only if something happens.”

“If you really wanna help me, you’ll take those blankets and wrap up the juke box.”

“If I break it, I’ll be very upset.”

“Well...we got three more minutes.”

“So how’s this gonna work?”

“I know this thing’s sadistic.”

“When it comes, it won’t be what you expect.”

“We locked up anything that can make music.”

“At least you don’t have to worry about smashing something you care about.”

“It’s here! It’s here!!! Oh god! Make it stop!!!”

“I don’t hear anything!”

“What do we do? What do we do?!?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Get away from me!”

“Don’t worry! I’m not going anywhere!”

“SHUT UP!!!”

“What are you doing, darlin’?”

“Oh my god...it’s us!”

“She/he/they hear(s) the song coming from us!”

“I understand.”

“Well. Here we are.”

“Tell your parents I say hi.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“This is my fault.”

“This is what she/he/they lived for. To help people.”

“She/he/they had a thing for the decade.”

“You were in love with her/him/them. Weren’t you?”

“Guess I’m dead.”

“It’s okay. Relax.”

“Have some pie and wait about two hours.”

“I was in love with her/him/them.”

“What am I doing here? I must be outta my mind.”

“What did my note say?!”

“Y...y...you died.”

“Now the whole town knows that! This is great. Just great.”

“Let’s get outta here.”

“Look what it made me do.”

“Now it’s personal.”

“I’m gonna make some eggs. You want anything?”

“Yes. I do want something.”

“Hotcakes?”

“I want the truth.”

“I wanna know what the hell happened tonight.”

“I saw the EMTs cart you off in body bag. And now? Here you are.”

“You’ve seen me use magic before.”

“I’ve seen you hypnotize people.”

“I’ve seen you help kids with nightmares.”

“This is different!”

“I get it. All that other stuff could have had a rational explanation.”

“Now you’ve seen something that’s truly undeniable. And it’s scary.”

“Took me a while to get used to it too.”

“There’s no getting used to this.”

“I’ve followed you into some zany scenarios.”

“I’ve kept an open mind. Now, I want some answers. I think I’m owed that.”

“I wanna know who you are. Really.”

“I wanna know how you can do the things you do.”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Where do I begin?”

“And that’s the whole story.”

“That’s all of it. Who I am. Where I came from.”

“You didn’t say a damn thing!”

“Look at your watch.”

“Look at that empty plate.”

“Look outside the window.”

“We’ve been talking for four hours, _____. You just don’t remember.”

“You think this is the first time you asked me about myself?”

“I don’t know how many times I’ve told you.”

“You never remember. And you never will.”

“Anytime I share a part of my past, it just...disappears.”

“There’s no point explaining.”

“You have to realize how frustrating this is for me.”

“I figured out what the song is.”

“It’s not a curse. Or a ghost. It’s alive.”

“It wants to be heard, by as many people as possible.”

“I know where it’s headed next.”

“This year’s celebration is bigger and better than ever.”

“We have games, music, and after a flood of complaints, paddle-boats are back by popular demand.”

“I hope you all remember this night for the rest of your lives.”

“Did you want me to cut the mic?”

“I’ve got just the thing to soothe her/his/their throat.”

“I’m looking for something that would make it worse.”

“I wanna ruin her/him/them.”

“You don’t have to be so rude!”

“Never say never, handsome.”

“You gotta check out this song, _____. It’s killer.”

“Hey hey hey hey hey! Stop right there! Do not play that!”

“Come on, dude. They’re not that bad.”

“Let’s split up.”

“Find whatever those are hooked up to.”

“Chill, babe. You’re gonna slay.”

“If I blow this gig, the band’s done.”

“That’s not gonna happen, _____.”

“I got a confession to make.”

“I was scared!”

“See? Told you it was bullshit.”

“He’s/She’s/They’re looking spry...for someone who should be dead.”

“Where you going? We’re on in five!”

“Don’t tell me you’ve got a witch too.”

“That’s why it picked me. It wants to be heard.”

“You’re gonna play it.”

“I don’t have a choice!”

“I don’t even think I’m human anymore.”

“I don’t know what I am.”

“I know what you are.”

“You’re scared. I know I was.”

“I think you wanna stop.”

“Could you stop me?”

“Ugh. What is that?”

“I hope this works.”

“I hope I’m not too rusty.”

“Are you guys any good?”

“What are we playing?”

“Don’t worry about it! It’s one of mine!”

“Lost in the dark away from home.”

“When no one is helping you, there’s someone.”

“Just run away with me, a light on parts unknown.”

“You’re gonna run away with me.”

“Just run away with me. You won’t feel so alone.”

“I’ll carry the torch for us both.”

“Even a hero needs some hope.”

“There’s someone deep inside.”

“Just run away with me.”

“Follow my lead and we’ll keep running.”

“Even when you’re feeling nothing, I can make your heart keep beating on.”

“That was the deal after all.”

“That was radical. I mean it.”

“I gotta play the song!”

“Whoa. Fuckin’ metal.”

“The Honey Festival really is a magical time.”

“It’s when dark forces can walk upon the earth.”

“The celebration’s so nice, it almost makes you forget all that.”

“Well, I gotta say. It feels good to be the hero for once.”

“Usually you’re the one who saves the day, but this time it was all me.”

“I got him/her/them with the old right hook.”

“I usually don’t condone violence, but there comes a time in every person’s life…”

“You shoulda been there.”

“What was I doing?”

“So how are we gonna explain your miraculous recovery?”

“You were declared dead.”

“I don’t think we will explain it.”

“_____ had a good run.”

“Maybe it’s time to move on to the next persona.”

“People start to notice.”

“So you pick a new name. Change your hair.”

“I’m not touching my hair. It’s been like this since the 80s.”

“It’s not gonna fool anybody.”

“People aren’t gonna forget what you look like.”

“You’ll remember _____.”

“You’ll forget she/he/they had powers.”

“You’ll forget the book.”

“Soon you’ll just remember...she/he/they was/were your friend.”

“No. That’s not fair.”

“You can’t make me forget you.”

“I couldn’t forget you even if I tried.”

“You know how I feel about you!”

“_____, relax. I’m trying to say goodbye.”

“That’s some ride.”

“Yeah, she’s a classic.”

“Some things never go out of style.”

“So...you dropping off your kid?”

“I work with kids. Families, really.”

“One of the kids I help had an accident in shop class.”

“I think the school should cover the medical bills.”

“Yeah, take ‘em for everything they’re worth.”

“Don’t tell ‘em I said that.”

“I’m new here.”

“That’s very similar to someone I used to know.”

“Aww. That’s too bad.”

“Well, you can’t dwell on the past.”

“Is that a tape deck in there?”

“What can I say? I love the 80’s.”

“Bye-ya, _____.”