#witless zombie

[guestboyghslq]

I am surprised no one has brought this to attention towards the GHS community, it seems to be a pitch at World screening for a new GHS series by TV Asahi. it's called: Gregory Horror Show -Save Our Souls-. this must be the formal Mystery Holiday. the story seems to be different now, about the protagonist named Jack, whos trying to free the souls of the house guest characters from Gregory house. interesting... @iwatanaomi-fanblog you might also need to look into this.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

to be a Zombie carcass crawling after Catherine forever by u/ElectricalAd9212

to be a Zombie carcass crawling after Catherine forever Central to the psychosis of Markle was her fantasy of being 'besties' with The Princess of Wales.When Catherine's attitude was basically, OK, no, I have three children to raise, a husband to support, a Monarchy to think of, a nation and Commonwealth to serve, a depressed brother to love, and a Grandmother-in-law Queen to spend time with, Markle became a psychopath obsessed with hatred.Its essentially the same dynamic as a mean girl in school who, when an elegant and popular and kind and beautiful girl refused to bow down to her, went all out to whisper nasty things to harm her.That is basically Markle's whole story.It can be seen as a multi-year psychopathic campaign by a stalker and there's never been anything like it before, involving misinformation, millions spent on PR, an entire Netflix show, podcasts, book, hoaxes, and lies and slander, all to harm Catherine, because she refused to pander to this deranged psychopath.Now, we're seeing PR planted by the lunatic along the lines of 'its such a shame Meghan and Catherine couldn't be friends, they could have done so much as besties and support each other', like the thing in People magazine the other day.So she's sussed that open annihilation psychopathy won't work, its now soft passive-aggressive regret to associate herself with the Princess of Wales.This will be the tone of everything now. Imagine Markle fantasising about an interview she gives. She writes the piece for the journalist.'There is a wistful, sad look in the Duchess of Sussex's eyes when she speaks. She looks into the distance, towards the shimmering light of the late afternoon sun and sighs. I notice a change in her voice. She looks down and says, 'Its so sad. Things got in the way between us from the start. On both sides. Forces prevented her from reaching out to me as I reached out to her. If anything, I was to blame for not giving her the space to free herself from those forces. I should have been more patient. I truly believe that to have an African American Duchess as the closest friend and adviser to the future Queen could have brought harmony to the world. I do regret the forces that were against us. And I feel so sad for her illness. When I heard, I wish I could have been there to hold her hand. But I understand she can't break the mould and reach out to me. So I move on.' She sits in silence and then says, 'but I'm a survivor. I'm a Duchess. I am royalty. And my TV shows, and my line of air fresheners and sandals and candles proves that.'Here is the thing.The only way she can have anything is by being soft.So its always going to be vibes like that.Always associating herself by distance with Catherine, who recent moments have shown to be the most famous, fascinating and beloved woman in the world.Markle thought that her ascent would be by poisonous whispers and abuse and vicious incitement and frenzy against Catherine. She expected the whole world, especially America to join in. Look at how her social media mobs operate. Like a mob pulling the hair and kicking the nice girl who offended the self appointed mean girl queen of school.Instead she has destroyed herself, and now plays humble and soft to still try and be associated with her obliquely.But it is what it is. All it shows is that Markle's plan now for the rest of her days is to be a psychopath stalker by stealth, to be a Zombie carcass crawling on the ground trying to follow Catherine everywhere, to get as many coins as she can from whichever witless people in media or grifter philanthropy are fooled by this psycho. post link: https://ift.tt/OHP5Xfo author: ElectricalAd9212 submitted: April 12, 2024 at 02:41PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[thelustybraavosimaid]

The key five are incredibly misunderstood by D&D, so very misunderstood. Think about it.

They turned:

- Bran into some weird mindless, one-note zombie,

- Tyrion became witless and made foolish choices that he never would have,

- Daenerys somehow became mad (even though her whole thing is *not* ending up like her father), in which she killed thousands of innocents for no fucking reason (even though she's all about PROTECTING THE INNOCENT, so, uh ????????)

- Jon went all I dUn wAn iT (even though his book version is incredibly ambitious to the point where he *dreamt of being a conqueror like his hero, The Young Dragon*) but the most understood seems to be Arya.

They had no fucking idea of what to do with her, and it showed. It showed so fucking much.

[rosaline-black]

ꜱᴏʟᴀᴄᴇ - ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʜᴀʀʀɪɴɢᴛᴏɴ

A/N: Hii!! It’s been a minute. This is my first steve fic and I went down the angsty friends to lovers route so I hope you enjoy :) also I literally just hit 600 followers!! Thank you all sm

Category: Steve harrington X hopper!reader

Summary: drinking and dancing is the only thing that’s made you feel alive since your dad died. When the alcohol is wearing off, you can only think of one place to go.

Warnings: underage drinking. Mentions of death. Panic attacks and anxiety.

The thumping of the stereos didn't sound as exhilarating anymore, the guys you were using to distract yourself from those obsessive thoughts suddenly weren't as hot, and the alcohol in your cup was starting to taste more and more like hand sanitiser every time you took a sip.

Partying was your ultimate jailbreak - that jail being your mind. Dad. Death. Dad. Explosion. It was the constant cycle that spun round and round until you were blackout drunk on your bathroom floor vomiting up your guts. Nights had started getting this way recently. The alcohol wasn't doing what it once did, the numbness just turned into loathing for every soul around you.

College parties were surprisingly easy to get into. Gross frat boys would do anything for some action after all. So now here you stood, zoning out and overthinking every movement you made. One guy clearly thought he was in with you, he'd smirk all-knowing like there was no way you wouldn't end up in his dorm. Well, he was wrong. Slamming down the red cup, you took a shallow breath and walked like a woman on a mission. A mission to leave that was.

The air was biting at your skin, regret filled you. Not bringing a coat felt good at the time, the spring sun shining in full beam. But now the sun was gone, it was just you and the moon. Where would you go now? Obviously, one address sprung to mind but you didn't want to worry him even more than you already had. However, his stupid eyes and stupidly soft hair flashed to the forefront of your brain, and before you could think it through you were in a cab.

"Steve your fucking parents better not be home..."

you whispered to nobody in particular. You knew they wouldn't be home, they hardly were on Fridays, always at some work dinner or something... to be honest, you usually tuned a lot of what Steve said when he rambled. You noticed he did that a lot around you, he'd lose his cool-guy persona. You preferred him without it anyway, just a witless dork, kinda like you beneath all of the excessive drinking. You opened the window as the thoughts got loud again.

Dad. Death. Dad. Explosion.

You screwed your eyes shut and tried to listen to the mellow sounds of Fleetwood mac that were almost like a whisper in the wind. The back of your hand was now numb like your insides. Cold air left lethal kisses along it until you flexed it to get some feeling back. It felt good. You wish it didn't.

You fell in your spot as the cab pulled over. A gruff here we are sounded from the driver. You threw him whatever you had, probably too much, but it didn't matter you just wanted solace. Was it snowing? Or was the warmth of the alcohol wearing off? Probably the latter.

Clambering your way up the steps to Steve's front door you stroked your hair behind your ears and licked your teeth with your mouth just to double-check there was no lipstick on your teeth. To be fair it didn't matter anyway, you looked a mess. Eye sockets sunken from too much crying and lack of rest, hair matted from refusing to take care of yourself and those lips you painted with lacquer were chapped and dry. Without all the coverup paint you resembled a zombie of your old self, a zombie who was now knocking on Steve Harringtons’ door at 00:35.

You waited a couple of minutes and when nobody came that disappointment turned into anger. Swearing under your breath, you stumbled down those steps until a brief clicking of a door led you to turn around. He looked disgustingly concerned, but sadly not surprised.

"Y/n..."

Steve sounded almost disappointed and you wanted to tell him to go to hell and run far far away. Yet you didn't. Steve's arms wrapped around you like a vice. Heavy breaths and the whistle of the wind were all that travelled to your ears.

Wordlessly, Steve pulled away and led you inside, his soft large hand enclosing yours. You liked Steve's home, it was big and warm. A vast juxtaposition to your cabin, stripped of all warmth now your dad was gone.

Dad. Death. Dad. Explosion.

"Hey shhh breathe for me y/n..."

You were losing control of your throat as the hyperventilating began. Steve's hands stroked up and down your arms as you glued your eyes shut, trying to block out the images of that day at the mall.

"Ignore whatever the fucks going on up there and listen to me okay... you're safe... I'm here y/n..."

Dad. Death. Steve. Breathe...

Your breathing evened out after ten minutes of taking control of the mantra of your mind. That fiery feeling in the pit of your stomach was subsiding, and finally, you felt strong enough to crack your

eyes open. His cheeks were brushed pink, he looked relieved to see that you were finding calm, completely because of him.

"I'm sorry Steve-"

"Don't... don't ever and I mean ever apologise..."

His stern voice almost made you go weak at the knees. It was sort of inappropriate in the current moment, still on a come down from a panic attack, but Steve had always been your safe place, and you had always felt love for him, in ways you'd never felt for anybody.

With a turn of your head, you looked around the living area, only now finding your bearings. A bottle of brandy was sat on the coffee table in front of you both. Now that you thought about it, Steve’s hot breath did contain the remnants of spice, a spice that smelt oddly like brandy.

“Have you been drinking?”

It seemed ridiculous that you of all people were questioning him about drinking. Your reputation of wasting your free nights getting plastered didn’t exactly go unnoticed, but still, this was unlike Steve, taking his dad’s brandy and drinking alone in the dark of his living room.

Steve huffed out a humourless laugh, his eyes refusing to meet your own as they circled in on the swirled pattern of his carpet “Yes… just a little… I mean you’re not exactly one to judge for drinking now are you?”

Huffing out a similar laugh in return, your eyebrows drew together “Yeah I guess you’re right… but I was at a party… you’re home alone Steve…”

“Maybe I had a hot date over…”

God you hoped he was joking. You didn’t want jealousy to bubble in the darkest depths of your chest every time he mentioned another hot girl he was trying to woo, but it was unavoidable, just like your affection for him, unavoidable. Steve must have sensed you getting back in your own head by the glossy sheen that covered your eyeballs because he soon spoke up again.

“Well, I didn’t just… by the way…”

Now he looked lost in thought. You both had so many words you wanted to say but nothing would come out. Fortunately, alcohol seemed to make one bolder.

“I was drinking because of you…”

Never once had you turned your head so fast. Because of you? It was worry, right? It had to of been. You not only put yourself in danger every time you got blackout drunk with strangers, but put the people that were still alive, and still there for you in a tough situation. You could imagine the guilt that riddled Steve, worrying for your safety every night, never knowing if tonight was the night you pushed it farther, tried something stronger.

“I’m sorry… you don’t need to worry about me, Steve… I know I’m an irresponsible shit but… everyone copes differently…”

Dirty blonde hair flew in the air as the boy beside you crooned his neck to look into your eyes. He shook his head in defiance like you’d got it all wrong.

“No… no that’s not why… I mean, of course, I worry about you, more than anyone y/n I just… God, I’m such a fucking pussy…”

He was doing that annoying self-depreciation thing again, where he would look away and if you looked close enough you could see the thoughts punching at the jail cell they had been placed in.

“Just spit it out Harrington for fuck sake…”

His eyes were wide like a mad man as he let these next words fall from his lips.

“I FUCKING LOVE YOU OKAY” He breathed heavy and paused to gauge a reaction, but apparently you didn’t react quick enough because he started speaking again instead of letting the confession sit in the air “I love you… and God I just… I know that you’re hurting… if I was you damn I would be doing the exact same thing but I just… all I think about is you…”

Steve searched your eyes for any signal of repulsion, but when he didn’t find it he pressed on “At work, I hope your hangover isn’t so bad… when I drive robin to school I think about what you made yourself for breakfast that morning… at night I sit here… and I drink because I want to feel close to you… shit sorry, I’m such a fucking douche bag…”

“No… no Steve you’re not a douchebag…”

For a moment the both of you simply just stared at one another. The words Steve had said sat heavy in the air like they were surrounding you, pushing you both closer to each other.

“I’m not someone you should love though Steve… I’m a mess I mean you just saw then I-“

“Just shut up, please… I can love who I fucking wanna love…”

Since your dad died a hero, smiles didn’t come anymore. You felt guilty smiling knowing you’d never see your dad do the same. But as you sat here, opposite the guy who had been your solace, you smiled. Guilt didn’t riddle you; the world didn’t implode. You just smiled. It was toothy and the lipstick you failed to remove from your teeth was probably showing but you didn’t care. Steve fucking Harrington loved you. And God, you loved him too.

[fresh-002]

Here are 7 reasons why being both a ghost and a necromancer is totally awesome:

#1 - You get to control undead minions! You already possess supernatural powers as a ghost, but adding necromancy increases your influence tenfold. Summon skeletons, zombies, ghouls or even demons to serve your evil will and scare people witless. Your legion of loyal servants creates fearsome opponents, giving you a tactical advantage against anyone foolish enough to cross you. The possibility of unlimited power through raising dead minions keeps you grinning with delight whenever you cast spells successfully.

#2 - Invisibility lets you explore anywhere without getting caught. Nobody suspects anything fishy when objects move around silently nor when doors creak open seemingly by themselves, making life easy for someone trying to avoid detection. Slip away without notice and scout places before committing to action. With nobody able to detect invisible shadows trailing behind walls, you gather vital information crucial for executing successful plans. No obstacle stays in the way anymore!

#3 - Haunting gives you endless entertainment opportunities. Ghosts love playing tricks on poor humans. Whether it’s moving furniture around, slamming windows, turning lights off and on, creating cold drafts, or manifesting as a full-body apparition, spooking living beings remains your greatest joy. See them jump out of terror, and relish knowing exactly how fearful you can make mortals. It guarantees lots of amusement hours.

#4 - Ghostly presence enhances control over death magic, making you a formidable force capable of manipulating the forces of decay, corruption, and death itself. In addition to using the energy provided by nearby spirits, you have a natural connection to the veil between our world and the land of the dead. This link enables you to call forth spectral allies, imbue yourself with eerie magics, and bend death to suit your will. As a result, you're not just any necromancer; you're an expert in traversing the realms beyond, empowered by the essence of lost souls.

#5: Channeling malevolent energies makes others uneasy, causing many to avoid engaging in combat directly. However, your ability to intimidate and terrorize ensures they keep their distance. Even mighty adventurers who don't flee may still think twice about provoking you. Fear can work to your benefit, helping distract foes during critical moments while increasing the effectiveness of surprise assaults. By leveraging dread, you gain a psychological edge, and some adversaries may never realize how vulnerable they truly were until it's too late. Intimidation serves as a valuable companion for all sorts of situations involving potential threats to your existence.

#6 - Invisibility allows sneaking up on enemies for surprise attacks. Stealth is an underestimated skill, which when combined with invisibility becomes a powerful asset. Creep up right behind guards, generals, wizards, heroes or other characters, preparing lethal blows nobody would anticipate. A sudden assassination strike catches defenders unaware, leaving them helpless while you take out key targets effortlessly. Opportunity arises to plan ambushes, orchestrated murders, strategic sabotages, and cunning operations demanding stealth and finesse.

#7 - Necromancers understand spiritual dimensions better than most practitioners. Combine this understanding with ghostly knowledge, allowing you to weave intricate webs connecting various planes, including the spirit world. Use these connections to communicate with discarnate entities, bind or banish them according to your desires, manipulate astral energies to create illusory constructs resembling phantasmal warriors or monstrous guardians, plus perform many feats involving dimensional barriers. Enhanced awareness leads to more deceptively simple options.

In summary, becoming a necromantic ghost provides exciting possibilities for those willing to embrace their inner darkness and develop skills necessary to channel negative energies effectively. While the above list represents great advantages, remember that with newfound abilities come increased responsibilities. Choose wisely how to use such prowess, for the road ahead has countless twists leading toward either fulfilling destinies or tragic consequences. Good luck exploring the limits of your powers, dear reader!

[caroldanversinatardis]

Ahsoka Episode 6 thoughts - SPOILERS UNDER CUT

The opening scene? Adorable. Huyang should tell all the stories of Star Wars. I love that he said, "A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away..." Beautiful piece of classic Star Wars.

MORE NIGHTSISTERS?!?! I just about died thinking Mother Talzin came to the live screen (jury is still out of it is or isn't her...)

Grand. Adrimal. Thrawn. Terror and awe as soon as he entered the scene. Perfect character casting - I was very tense and scared. The new organ theme?? PERFECT. (My spouse watching this with no context said "He gives off strong Hitler vibes.")

Idk about anyone else but Enoch the gold faced stormtrooper is now the scariest thing I've seen in Star Wars. I yelped when he showed up and am deeply unnerved when he's on screen.

The fact that each stormtrooper is wrapped in Nightsister red cloth makes me question if any of them are resurrected zombies. With the Nightsisters taking a large role in the series, I hope we see some of those freaky Force zombies.

THE HOWLER IS THE BEST NEW CHARACTER NO I WILL NOT BE TAKING CRITICISM. HES A GOOD BOI. HOW DARE SABINE SCOLD HIM!!

Balayn Skoll was a Jedi General???? I want to know more about his Dark Jedi backstory so bad now! Did he have a padawan? Did he have clones?? Who is he?? Ray is a phenomenal actor.

The rock hermit crab aliens? Classic Star Wars. Hilarious little guys. Even better that Sabine doggo wants to eat them.

Ezra, let's gooooo!!!! His actor NAILED it!!!

What on earth is Thrawn transporting off world and why is it so important to the Nightsisters? Is it Kyber? Something with magick?? Is this what fuels Starkiller base??? I'm scared witless of Thrawn already and it's probably going to get only worse. (I have a bad feeling about this...)

[whoneedsapublisher]

The Graveyard Shift

Chapter 4: The Idol

Also on Ao3

**************

In the end, Nico did manage to wrangle hazard pay out of Nozomi, although it only ended up being enough to cover the shifts she missed out on while the place was being repaired. Still, it was better than nothing. It felt better when she thought of it as a month of paid time off. And she didn’t let that month go to waste.

It wasn’t like she put her career on hold for the pizza place, obviously. Nico was too ambitious for something like that. She wasn’t going to let the universe’s greatest idol waste away in the darkness.

But she was practical. Auditions didn’t pay the bills, and the pizza place did. So she didn’t go after anything that would clash with her shifts. She still went to auditions, but not everything on offer.

That changed when the pizza place was being repaired.

She took everything she could get her hands on. When she wasn’t asleep, she was working on idol activities. Auditioning. Practicing for auditions. Hell, she even registered for a performer’s permit and started doing street lives in an attempt to get name out.

She hadn’t expected that last one to go anywhere, honestly.  Street performing was good for practice, but the people passing by on the street weren’t exactly likely to own a major production company.

But it turned out that while there might be an endless line of witless managers who couldn’t see her talent, the people of Tokyo had better taste.

Soon Nico’s street performances went from being something that a passerby might pause to watch for a minute or two to being something that drew crowds. Her name started being bandied around online, beyond some random haters.

And finally, she got a contract.

It wasn’t anything major. It was hardly breaking into the big time. But a production company saw her growing popularity and wanted to snap her up.

It was work in the industry. A foot in the door. And Nico wasn’t going to miss that chance.

It caught her off guard when Nozomi called her a week later to say that the pizza place was re-opening.

Nozomi had been disappointed when she said she didn’t have time to take on any shifts, but she’d been happy for Nico too, and promised to come to her next show.

And so Nico had slipped into the idol world that she always knew she’d belonged in, and that bizarre pizza place in the haunted part of town seemed less and less real by the day. Vampires and zombies didn’t really exist, did they? Maybe that werewolf had just been a really vivid dream. Or it was some kind of prank.

Sometimes she caught herself rubbing her fingers on her neck when she had those kinds of thoughts. As if hoping that there’d be some bump where those fangs had pierced her skin. Some lasting evidence. But there wasn’t, of course. The skin was a smooth as an idol’s skin should be. Unmarred. Unblemished. Unharmed.

All she was left with were memories. Memories she’d be better off without.

**************

Initially, Nozomi’s call wasn’t anything surprising.

“Hey there, Niccochi! Did the show yesterday go well?”

“Of course,” Nico said, puffing herself up a little even though Nozomi couldn’t see her. “This is me we’re talking about.”

“Oh, how silly of me, I should have known,” Nozomi said. “You have a bit of a break before you start practicing for the next show, right?”

“A few days, yeah,” Nico said. “We still don’t have the choreography finished. Why? Did you want to get lunch?”

“Well… not quite.”

Nico narrowed her eyes. “I don’t like this tone of voice. This is the tone of voice that suggests I’m not going to like what you have to say next.”

“Well, in all honestly, what I think you should feel about it isn’t quite what i’m expecting your actual feelings to be,” Nozomi said.

“What the heck is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s about the vampire.”

Nico’s heart briefly stopped.

All the things she’d been trying to laugh off, to pretend they weren’t real, were suddenly being shoved back in her face.

As she sat in stunned silence for a moment, trying to formulate a response, Nozomi sighed.

“I’m sorry, Niccochi. I wouldn’t bring it up, but… well, she’s bothering my new hire. She keeps asking after you. And I’d feel bad staking her behind your back, given that you didn’t want me to do it last time.”

“Well… that was…”

“I know you’ve been avoiding talking about all this,” Nozomi said. “You don’t have to come back. Just say the word and you never have to hear about this again. Do you want me to just deal with this without you?”

Nico opened her mouth to say yes. This was behind her now. She was finally living her dreams. She did not need to get dragged back into a terrifying, dangerous, supernatural underworld.

“She was really asking for me?”

Nozomi chuckled. “Yes, Niccochi. Perhaps she’s drawn to your idol charm,” she teased. “Look, I know you haven’t wanted to pick up shifts, but if you just hang out in the shop for a night and talk to the vampire if she shows up, I’ll pay you for a shift and you can leave the actual work to Hanayo.”

Now that Nico had actual idol work, she was less desperate for money than she had been before. But as a minor idol (for the moment), she was not exactly rolling in money, and earning a whole shift’s worth of money for doing nothing was a very tempting prospect.

“...Can I bring a sleeping bag and let the new hire wake me up if the vampire shows up?”

“Fine with me, Niccochi. Can you do tonight?”

**************

Nico considered her beauty sleep important. As such, she hadn’t exactly been looking forward to napping on the floor of a pizza place, but regardless, she’d figured it would be a pretty good deal to get paid to sleep.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t quite how it worked out.

Hanayo, the new girl at the pizza place, was something of an idol fan. Nico could respect that, of course- she was an idol fan herself. Unfortunately, she was also an idol fan with excellent taste and a good eye for rising new talents. Which was to say that she happened to be a Nico fan.

Normally, this would be an unambiguously good thing. More Nico fans in the world was a sign of there being hope for humanity and the future of the arts, after all. In this very specific scenario, however, it was a little inconvenient. Nico could hardly sleep in her clothes on the floor of a restaurant in front of a fan.

So instead, she passed the night drinking the less than stellar coffee the shop sold and talking to Hanayo about idols. Which was hardly torture, but it took some serious effort not to nod off.

Nico was just debating whether she could get away with a quick nap in the corner while Hanayo worked on a delivery order when she heard a voice that immediately woke her up with a jolt that the coffee couldn’t hope to match.

“Nico? Is that you?”

Maki’s eyes were wide as she peered in the window at Nico. God, she’d forgotten how beautiful she was. Being a vampire was cheating. How many decades had she looked that good? It was unfair.

Although, as beautiful as she was, she didn’t seem like she was at her best at the moment. She looked a little… haggard.

“Yes, yes, your favourite idol is making a one night appearance at her old place of work, by special request,” Nico said, trying to brush off how rapidly her heart was beating all of a sudden. “You don’t take hints well, huh? Nozomi told you to stay away. She said she was going to stake you if you kept harassing the newbie.”

The newbie in question was cowering behind the oven, peering fearfully out at Nico, clearly in disbelief of Nico’s casual attitude. Even if a lot of that attitude was a front.

“I didn’t have a choice,” Maki said sulkily. “I didn’t have any other way of contacting you.”

“And why, exactly, was contacting me so important?” Nico asked. “No one likes stalker fans, you know. If you want to meet an idol, come to a handshake event.”

Maki scowled at her.

“You know I can’t,” she grumbled.

“You still haven’t told me what you want.”

Maki’s face took on a pained expression and she twisted her hands together uncomfortably.

“...You,” she said.

“Excuse me?” Nico said.

“Other blood doesn’t taste right anymore,” Maki said, running her hand through her hair and looking frustrated. “I haven’t eaten in weeks. It all tastes wrong ever since I bit you. I want to drink your blood again.”

She took a breath.

“But.. it’s more than that. I… missed you, Nico.”

Nico should laugh in her face. She should tell her to shove her blood drive where the sun didn’t shine, and that a vampire should know all about a place like that. She should tell her that next time Nozomi threatened to stake her, Nico wouldn’t stick up for her. Should tell her that she’d already defended Maki enough times to pay her back for saving her from the werewolf. And above all, she should tell her that she didn’t buy her stupid act designed to get Nico’s blood.

Except the problem was that she did.

She did buy it. She saw the haunted look in Maki’s eyes. Saw the genuine embarrassment in the way she wouldn’t meet Nico’s gaze. Heard the vulnerability in her confession.

She shouldn’t trust her. Shouldn’t trust a vampire. So what if she’d spared Nico once? That wasn’t proof that she wasn’t a killer. Wasn’t proof that Nico was safe around her.

And yet.

She couldn't forget how it had felt the last time she'd been bitten. How Maki's lips had felt on her neck. The memory of that feeling had been coursing through her and leaving her with an aching need ever since she'd seen Maki again. Maybe even before that, and it had just been suppressed, forgot, left to build under the surface so it could be as unbearable as it was now.

And she'd missed Maki too. No matter how much she'd tried to tell herself she didn't.

Nico walked over to the door.

“Nico?!” Hanayo whispered in an urgent, terrified tone.

“If she kills me,” Nico said, her hand on the handle. “Tell Nozomi to hunt her down, okay?”

And before she could think better of it, she opened the door and stepped out into the dead district.

Maki was on her in a second. Her arms were around Nico before she could blink, and then there was that pricking sensation as her fangs dug into Nico’s neck. The tingling overtook Nico again, but this time it felt even better, so much that her knees buckled and only the tight hug Maki had her trapped in kept her upright.

Finally, Maki pulled away, gasping, and Nico slid down to a sitting position against the door.

As she tried to refocus her eyes, which had glazed over, she found a phone being thrust into her face.

“...I’m not good with these things,” Maki said. “But… give me your number.”

Nico managed a trembling laugh. “You’re doing this… kind of… out of order… don’t you think?” she mumbled.

Maki frowned.

“Fine,” Nico said, reaching a shaking hand into her pocket to pull out her phone. “We’ll… trade numbers.”

Maki smiled at her. It was a smile that showed off those awful, creepy fangs, long and sharp and still slightly red with Nico’s blood.

It should have been frightening. It should have been terrifying.

But in that moment, Nico couldn’t manage to be afraid. All she could think of was that that smile was beautiful. That it was wonderful. That it was the kind of smile that Nico wanted to show the world by being an idol.

It was a good thing that Maki wasn’t a rival idol.

Or else she would have been very tempted to let Nozomi stake her for the sake of her career.

[itsthevioletqueen]

While the apk file doesn’t have the models on it, it has the textures of the new start screens and other things, so here’s some new phone wallpapers for you guys.

(Catherine’s Hospital and Lost Qualia Room in the “Keep reading”)

[gurguliare]

frodo + death

UHHHHHH I THINK HE’S MAD ABOUT IT WHEN IT HAPPENSSSSSSSS, along with a whole range of other emotions like amusement and acceptance and unwilling eagerness, but only because that is my kink. I mean, and also I think it’s important that Frodo-in-Aman is ‘healed’ in the sense of like, getting back to a place where he can resent things and be bitter and struggle openly before yielding, and so on, instead of sublimating all his hatred and grief into private dissociative episodes.

idk I’ve been poring over this quote as one might expect, so my alternative proposal is: Frodo dies and his body is just around? zombie frodo retains many marks of personality and is very polite to visitors. sure the valar would fain destroy him but he’s not HURTING anyone, sam argues, sam’s zombie will later argue this as well

[jackyjango]

AU-gust Day 30: The Day the World Died

Zombie AU: Damen / Laurent

-

This is the fifth warehouse they’re hiding in today (The first one had been less of a warehouse, and more of a ruined shed). It’s been two days since Laurent has eaten anything solid, and a week since he has slept properly. It’s also been two years since Auguste turned into a witless walking corpse. If not for Damen, Laurent would have ended the same way. On days like this, however, Laurent wishes that Damen hadn’t saved him at all.

Laurent feels like they’ve been on the run forever. He’s bone-tired and drained. He no more has the energy to run from one hideout to the other. He no more has the energy to stand on alert every waking minute. He no longer has the resilience to watch his loved ones turn into corpses. He no longer can stand to put them down.

‘Damen,’ Laurent calls out. Damen looks up from where he’s filling petrol into the fire guns. ‘I don’t think I can go on anymore.’

Damen sets the gun aside and comes to crouch in front of Laurent. ‘I know you can’t. I can’t either. But together, we can. Together, we can win the world.’ He holds Laurent’s hands in his, and squeezes. ‘Together, we can do anything, Laurent.’

‘Sap,’ Laurent chides, but huddles further into Damen’s warmth. He’s the only thing keeping Laurent going. A steady rock in a stormy sea. ‘Hold me for a while, will you?’

Laurent settles further into Damen’s arms and closes his eyes. As long as he’s in Damen’s safe embrace, the world around him can burn for all he cares.

-

>>AU-gust Fills

[hellisheuphoria]

Chapter 2: Silence

The MC has a rough day, and finds comfort in a certain individual.

[Nothing much to say here, except thank you for reading, and don’t hesitate writing any constructive criticism to me or pointing out mistakes, ily all <3]

Morning arrives, and your eyes still barely open from the exhaustion of last night. You wished you had never woken up, far too tired for the day ahead.

You can tell it is early in the morning- just before 6 am. There is no sun in the Devildom, and so you have had to adjust your internal clock to the eternal darkness of this world.

No light creeps into your room to remind you that there is a new start to another day. That the past belongs in the past- yet your mind just can not correspond with that. It feels like everyday is the same.

It is eternal and infinite, yet you are mortal and weak. Despite possessing pacts with the most strongest rulers of the Devildom, you wield no strength. You possess no magical power. You’re useless.

If a demon wished to devour you right this very second, you would be gone. There is no power within you to perform any spells, and so you are defenceless.

Already in a depressive state, you will your weary bones to move. In order to avoid your housemates, you would need an extremely early start to the day. Meaning, now.

You freshen up in the bathroom, noticing your horrible features on your face. Your skin is pale and hollow, dark circles have comfortably edged themselves under your eyes, your eyes are hollow and lifeless and your hair thin and dead. You look like a zombie.

Your RAD uniform is crumpled and messy from having thrown it on the floor the day before, not giving a single care for it in the world.

You quietly walk to the kitchen, with your school necessities and belongings in your bag that has been slumped over your shoulder. You grab a small carton of yoghurt to eat and walked to the door, making sure to be quiet so as to not wake any of them up or alert them.

There are barely any students by the time you get to school, but they are almost always the nicer demons, the over achievers of the school. As they say, the early bird catches the worm.

You walked to the courtyard, where many beautiful plants and wildflowers resided, making it a truly wonderful and bright place in RAD. You sat down on one of the benches and took out your yoghurt, peeling the plastic off.

Someone tapped your shoulder from next to you. The white hair gave it away immediately; Solomon.

”Hello, MC. You’re quite early, today.” He greeted you with a lovely smile, but you could tell something was going on if you looked deeper into his eyes. He held onto a secret of some sorts.

”Hey.” You responded, nervous and flustered at the same time. You two didn’t talk often, despite being the only two human exchange students in the Devildom. He was very handsome and you would find yourself staring at him during class, enraptured.

He was also a very powerful sorcerer, having made pacts with more than 72 demons- Asmodeus included.

But he was nice, and hadn’t hurt you at all. Well, yet. You hoped he wouldn’t, you actually liked him.

”You look tired today. Had a rough night?” He observed you closely, his eyes still looking around your face as you slowly went red.

”I-uh, you could say that. I woke up sort of early and couldn’t sleep.” It wasn’t a total lie, but it wasn’t the entire truth either.

”Huh, alright.” He was still smiling at you, his lips perfectly complimenting his beautifully sinister face.

Your cheeks reddened and you turned away, choking the rest of the yoghurt down. You were feeling way too nervous for your liking- you felt as though you were supposed to act a certain way around him.

You breathed in slowly. “Uh, I need to get to class now.” You adjusted your bag on your shoulders and stood up to walk away, when he called out behind you.

”Have a nice day, MC.” You didn’t look back, but responded. “You too.”

For the rest of the day, you spent your time avoiding everyone, especially Mammon. You knew he would be extremely pissed at you, but you didn’t care. Today was not a good day.

As cute and clingy as he was, you just needed to get away from everyone- you really did. You could understand why Lucifer was frustrated at them half the time- they can be quite a handful.

As the day ended, you were in your last class, the Devildom history. You only had Satan, Asmo and Solomon with you in this class. They sat away from you, but you could hear Asmo’s whispering from miles away. He was being seriously loud.

“You know what happened today? I tried talking to MC, and they literally ghosted me! I think there’s something up!”

Satan agreed with him, “You’re right. Mammon wouldn’t stop complaining today about how he couldn’t find MC.”

Solomon didn’t talk, but you could feel his stare from your spot in the class. You could almost hear his thoughts from how hard he was staring at you.

When the class ended, you packed up as fast as you could and almost ran from how fast you were, you didn’t want to talk to anyone at all.

You could hear Asmo and Satan yelling behind you, but you ignored them and ran away. You didn’t want to answer any of their questions, you don’t want to talk to them.

Your outburst yesterday with Belphegor made you wary of everyone else. You were worried if he had told them what happened, and then they would want to talk to you about it.

You didn’t want to talk about your feelings, you would break if you did. It scared you witless, it terrified you. You didn’t wanna ruin their relationship with Belphegor or you. You didn’t want to be selfish and hurt them with your stupid fear.

The minute you ran into the house, you could tell it was empty. There were no shoes lying around, and nobody was arguing. Perfect, you were by yourself, and there would be no one to bother you.

You kicked off your shoes and got to your room. You locked your door, put away your bag and slithered onto your bed, not having taken off your uniform. God, you were tired.

You wrapped the blankets around you and eased into the mattress. This way, you would feel better. You wouldn’t feel as bad as you usually did, you would feel great when asleep, you were able to finally escape from your wretched world. The world soon became indecipherable, indifferent.

You zoned out and fell asleep.

You woke up to the sound of chattering, laughter and arguing close by. The light creeped in from under your door and ended right at your face. Your room was extremely dark, a change from when you first got home.

You were still groggy and tired, but if you slept any longer then you wouldn’t be able to sleep for the rest of the night.

You were feeling pretty lonely, but to be honest? It may just be better this way. You wouldn’t feel hurt when the program ended and you had to go home, and you wouldn’t ruin a relationship that could last for thousand of more years.

You didn’t leave your room, but you kept your door locked and turned on the light. You decided you would pass the time playing Mononoke Land, a game that Levi introduced to you a while back.

It was quite interesting, and the time passed by quickly, but only by an hour. It was about 6 pm, so you still had a lot of time before you would need to sleep.

You felt jealous of everyone sitting in the living room, enjoying their evening. Asmo was probably painting his nails, Satan could be trying to read a book despite Mammon’s blabbering.

You snickered a bit at the thought of Mammon being yelled at by Satan while Beel ate in the background, and Belphegor-

Oh. Belphegor would be napping, like always. You were jealous of that, as scared you were of him. You wanted the ability to sleep at any time you wanted to, despite the setting or time. It would be really convenient for right about now.

You could feel yourself getting sadder by the moment, but you didn’t know how to deal with it. You were lonely and scared, but you didn’t know where to turn to.

A ping from your DDD shook you from your thoughts.

Solomon- Hello, MC, do you have a minute?

MC- Uh, yeah. Why?

Solomon- You left something behind at school and I forgot about it until now. I have your notebook with me, you forgot it at history.

MC - OH, shoot. Should I wait for you tomorrow or come now? It’s only 6 pm.

Solomon - The Devildom can be quite deceiving when it comes to the seasons, but it’s winter right now, and it’s dark. Don’t worry, I’ll be at the house of Lamentation soon. I wouldn’t want you to have your soul eaten.

You felt your cheeks turn red, he didn’t want you to get hurt.

MC - Thank you, Solomon, I’ll be waiting. Text me first, don’t ring the doorbell.

Solomon - Got it.

You shut off your phone and stared up at the ceiling for a few seconds, wondering about Solomon. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all, not that you thought he was. After all, he cared for you enough to not risk you getting hurt. How sweet of him.

You messed around on your phone for a bit while waiting for Solomon. You hanged around in your room idly, doing nothing in particular. You then got a notification from your phone. As it turned out, that new feature where you can look at other group chats that you’re not in got activated again.

In the group chat, there was a picture of Mammon on the front page news of Majolish, a fashion magazine. He was modelling again.

Asmo rambled on about him, surprised that his ‘scummy’ older brother got into the first page of Majolish. Honestly, snooping on them was kind of fun. You’ve probably got more than dozens of blackmail from this feature.

Solomon- MC, I’m here.

MC - I’ll be out soon.

You wrapped yourself in a jacket, still in your uniform. You would have to wash that soon, you probably sweat a lot in it.

You tried your best to avoid everyone, making yourself as quiet as a mouse, you hoped. The floors creaked slightly, but they were all probably too preoccupied to notice.

You got to the front door and silently opened it, seeing Solomon outside. He was wearing his casual clothes, but still had that same look on his face. Handsome, too.

”Hello, MC.” He took your notebook out of his pocket and held it in front of you, with his arm stretched. You reached out to grab it, but he snatched it away and looked at you smugly.

”Let’s have a little chat, first. You owe me, don’t you?”

You dumbly stood there, gaping at him. Of course- this was Solomon we were falling about. He’s as sketchy as it could get.

”Oh- fine!” You said, trying your best not to sound pissed.

You put on your school shoes and walked out the door, making sure to close it quietly. Solomon walked with you, not saying a word but you could guess your notebook was still in his pocket.

You sighed, “Look, Solomon, if you’re not going to give it back to me, then can I just go back home? I’m tired.”

He looked at you with a side glance. “I could tell. You’re still in your uniform.” Pausing for a second, he continued. “Why were you acting weird today? I wouldn’t have expected our dear MC to run off like that. So I assumed that something must be up.”

You looked at the ground, clenching your hands in your pockets and keeping your eyes off him. “What’s it to you?”

He stopped walking, and so did you. He chucked, “As a fellow human exchange student, I only want the best for you.” He took your notebook out of his pocket, placing it in your hands. “If you ever find yourself in need, I will be there, no matter the scenario.”

He pat your head, then walked off, calling behind him. “Good evening, MC.”

You stared at his back, confused. He has never been this close to you, why now? You glanced down at your notebook, where he seemed to have placed a little ripped note on it.

Tear-rible mistake on your behalf, leaving your notes behind.

-Solomon :)

It was a horrible pun, really, but that didn’t stop you from laughing out loud in the middle of the street, facepalming yourself. You turned and walked back to the House of Lamentation, trying to contain yourself.

Seeing the house in your view calmed you down a little, and you knew you had to be quiet to avoid Lucifer’s wrath. He could have probably heard you laughing from miles away if he tried hard enough.

You walked up the door and slowly opened it, wincing a little when your shoes scraped the carpet, leaving a little scuff mark. But he was an extreme perfectionist. He would notice that right away.

Panicking, you half ran to your room and locked it, sliding down the door in disbelief and relief. You really needed to find a better way to sneak out.

Your phone buzzed at the same time you thought it, almost as if in agreement.

[guestboyghslq]

Here's another clue for the detectives in the GHS community, A poster for GHS: Save Our Souls, found from a Linkedin post from Maiko Suzuki Sumida, Head of Animation Sales and Development for TV Asahi. who announced this for MIP2022. everyone including the newcomer protagonist and his friends are here. and the worldscreening page for this shows pitch was posted 3 months ago October of 2023, no less. Something is afoot here. hopefully we find out more and not be left in the dark.

[council-of-readers]

Celebrating Halloween with Angel Headcanons

Request: Can you do Angel x reader Halloween head canons?

I hope you like haunted mazes, Nonnie.

~•~

He's not the biggest fan of Halloween.

But he is a fan of you.

So, you won't have much of hard time getting him to do something to celebrate. As long as it's not extravagant.

You'd have a hell of a challenge getting him to go to a party, but doing an activity with just the two of you would be something he'd actually quite enjoy.

To your surprise, he actually suggests the activity.

You brought up that you'd like to do something together for Halloween, and Angel suggested a haunted maze.

It caught you off guard to say the least.

There was a haunted corn maze, zombie themed, on the outskirts of town.

Admission started at 9, after sundown, so it worked well as a date.

Neither of you dressed up, but you still had a blast that evening.

He drove you to the grounds, playing Halloween-ish music the whole way. He pretended that he thought it was all cheesy and stupid, but he had fun watching you sing along to some of the more well known songs.

When you got there, it turned out to be a little more serious than either of you had expected. The actors had really gone all out with the effects and set up.

Though, this was LA folks, for the most part, who arranged it.

The maze was actually pretty intense.

At certain parts, though you'd never admit it, you did hide your face in his chest.

He thought it was adorable.

Honestly, some of the actors got him with a few of the scares.

It took all the self-restraint he had to not punch a few of them as a gut reaction.

Normally when things jumped out at him, Angel would just kick their ass, but it was a little harder for him when he knew scares were coming and there wasn't really anything he could do about it.

He did like that you seemed to move closer to him when you were scared.

It means a lot that you trust him like that.

That you feel safe with him.

Angel absolutely comes out of it with a grin, and suggests you come back the next year, to which you enthusiastically agree.

He drove you back to your place, originally planning on leaving you there, but you convinced him to come inside.

Totally not because you were still a little spooked.

Not at all.

You ended up talking through the night, mostly.

Him being so old, he'd heard a lot of ghost stories, and had lived more than one, so it devolved into him scaring you witless with some truly horrifying tales.

You loved it.

He loved it.

If you got too scared at any point, he'd wrap you up in a blanket and kiss your forehead, asking if you wanted him to keep talking.

If you said yes, he would, and if you said no, he would stop no questions asked.

He wouldn't even make fun of you for it.

He stayed the night, even after you fell asleep, watching over you and sticking around to make sure you didn't have any nightmares.

And, also because he wanted an excuse to spend more time with you.

It was the first Halloween in forever that made him happy, and it was no secret as to why. And next year was going to be even better.

[akanme]

The signs as minecraft quotes

Gemini: Yes! Wag your tail, dog! At least someone appreciates my bushes. Don’t sexualise that!

Tempura: Tactical fishing...? Sun Tzu would be proud...

Library: The walls have ears, witless worm. But more importantly, they have a fat ass.

Candycorn: Are snowballs snowman eggs? 

Aquarium: I don’t need armour. My ass is too fat.

Virgin: Stay back, undead sluts! Social distancing!

Shagging: The existence of zombie horses - and i must stress: zombification only effects humanoids. Look at zombie piglins, regular zombies - implies horses are people and deserve rights.

Scorpion: Have a house? Not on my watch!

Area: Where my fellow, uh, CULTISTS at?

Kings of Leon: I died back in the 1500s. I stubbed my toe; decided i no longer wanted a part of it; had it amputated, and died from the blood loss.

Crack Pot: Lava, huh... we love pain. It’s the basis of our friendship.

[morsking]

Got around to starting and finishing Old World Blues in the past couple of days. I think it’s the strongest of the game’s DLC I’ve played so far.

At first, it feels like you’re in for some wacky science fiction b-movie shenanigans once you’re introduced to the Think Tank. They’re all whimsical idiots who forget what words are, repeat themselves to elongate their sentences to look smart, and even one of them is bizarrely horny and has a fetish for... innocuous human behavior? Stretching? Yawning? They are neurotic brains in machines who take stuff apart and break it without really creating anything with it, just replicating the same results over and over and none of them seem to notice how stupid they are and it’s amazing. They took your brain, spine, and heart out of your body in an attempt to turn you into a walking vegetable, only for them to become so fascinated with the damage you took from Benny’s bullet that they fuck up the surgery and end up finding a way to keep your intelligence about you with a remote device that connects your brain to the tesla coils in your skull. Their biggest scientific discovery since... who knows how fucking long, was an absolute accident. It could only come about by chance, because you, as an existence alien to the static Big MT, shook things up tremendously. 

But as funny and baffling as all these things could be, the more you explore Big MT, the more apparent it is that for all their quirks the Think Tank are also responsible for some of the most heinous crimes against humanity you can witness in Fallout: New Vegas. They experimented with carnivorous, parasitic plants on human beings, spliced humans, dogs, and robots together, developed nightstalkers and cazadores you see in the base game, used the Sierra Madre casino and its inhabitants as a petri dish for holograms, the claustrophobic hazmat suits, and the poisonous Cloud that killed everyone and turned them into zombies. Their experiments killed all their staff, and not one of them batted an eye to what they did. And their most shocking crime is the repetition of Japanese internment with Chinese hostages, who you can find ghoulified from radiation and are forced to kill them. These prisoners can’t be reasoned with or saved because the Think Tank stripped them from their humanity long ago along with any humanity or rationality that was left in the Big Empty. The only thing they can do as being robbed of their humanity is lash out at anything that still looks human. All throughout the DLC, you are subjected to displays of the Think Tank’s obsessions and cruelties and aimless ambitions, and you wonder why. How did things get this twisted and distortioned? And then you meet Dr. Mobius, and you find out why.

In his introductory segment when you start the DLC, he seems like the parody of the crazed mad scientist terrorizing the slightly less crazy eccentric scientists and the bastard who kidnapped your brain. But when you meet him, he’s like a sweet, confused, senile old man. He’s got an endearing if a little weird addiction to radioactive snacks despite him being a brain in a machine who has no mouth to eat them. He forgets he keeps a giant killer robot scorpion with a OHKO death laser of infinite... death powered on and sucking up energy all the time and that’s why his shit never works. He uses the wrong words on his sentences because they sound like the actual words he means to use. He didn’t just steal your brain, he kept it safe for you. And also, he’s the one who lobotomized the Think Tank into the witless abominations they are now. 

Dr. Mobius witnessed his co-workers, his friends, pushing the boundaries of science further and further into dark places. Terrified for what they might do, he robbed them of their sanity and created an army not to terrorize them, but to keep them busy and from getting out. Dr. Mobius feared for the world, that it might be subjected to one new horror after another. There is great compassion in his actions but also great cruelty. He was so afraid of his friends the new world he trapped them in the old one. That’s where obsession and abhorrence belong, in the big emptiness of the past. It’s so appropriate, that Big MT is misread as “the Big Empty”. Because obsession and madness are an abyss, and also because everything that happened there was meaningless and hollow. There was no purpose to the Think Tank repeating its process of lobotomizing and observing the lobotomites. The great irony is that. That they don’t realize that what they do to human beings is what’s been done to them. Like the nature of all their names, their actions and their philosophies are cyclical and self-consuming. (Ouro)Borous. Zero. (Man)Dala (circle in Sanskrit), 8, Klein and Mobius. They are concepts that loop into themselves, symbolic of the futility of holding on to the grudges and ambitions of the Old World, a world that new only conflict and supremacy and paranoia and hostility. The fact that Mobius had to resort to brainwashing his own colleagues itself is evident even he didn’t know how to let go of the brutal utilitarian methods of the Old World in an effort to save the New One.

And what’s even worse is that didn’t matter anyway, because the mutated abominations that Borous created still found their way into the Mojave anyway. Are we supposed to accept that as a mercy that night stalkers, spores, and cazadores are the only things that slipped through the crater into the desert and be thankful for it? The only thing you can do about it now is say “Enough.” Enough of the Old World and its curses. It has no right to turn this world into a graveyard with it. It has no write to take from it and toy with it. Many times that attachment is played for laughs in Old World Blues, particularly Borous’s anti-communist fixation and enactments of his high school trauma being the basis for a training operation. But when you truly look at it it really feels like gallows humor. How many people do you reckon died in those tests at Lab X-8 because he used the test subjects as a means of catharsis? What was the human cost of that myopic insecurity and resentment? You only have to look around you. The facility is littered with guts. And it’s not the only one that looks like that. Not by a longshot.

So it came my time to also say enough to the Think Tank. I chose to kill them (more like stumbled my way into killing them because you have to thematically cycle through speech and skill checks for Mobius to give you the option of sparing everyone). It was both a roleplay gesture of revenge as much as it was a choice from me as a player to put the Big Empty out of its misery. It was already a graveyard in concept, it had to be made a graveyard in reality.

So that’s it for my review of the story. As for the more physical aspects of the DLC, I’ll say the Big Empty is probably the most interestingly designed setting I’ve ever seen. From the moment I woke up at the top of the Sink’s balcony I fell in love with what I was seeing. The layout includes some interesting platforming and traversal of the terrain from labs to cliffs to caves. Every laboratory houses something useful for you or relevant to the story and it’s easy to circle around the entire map and unlock everything as you go. The exploration comes naturally and you’re always encouraged to go back and look to see if you missed something (which you probably did, because it sure happened to me). One of the best things I found was the stealth suit. I’ve written about it already, but it is simply adorable, quirky, and also very helpful. Getting all its upgrades is worth it and not all that difficult even if it looks like a case of trial and error. There are some neat unlockables in terms of weapons as well like the stuff Elijah and Christine left behind, and lore that elaborates on their time there and Christine’s chase of Elijah to make him pay for his crimes. There is also the excellent set-up of your encounter with Ulysses in Lonesome Road, since he’s left his mark everywhere for you to see, as if luring you and taunting you. The dialogue is some of the wittiest and funniest Fallout’s ever been. The personalities in the Sink’s assistant appliances are so varied and interesting. You have the weirdly horny and seductive seed processor, the germaphobic water sink, the pessimistic and exhausted Muggy mini securitron, the jealous bickering light switches, the radio man juke box, the brave little toaster that could (murder everything), the ultra-patriotic and self-unaware book chute, the compassionate level-headed Auto-Doc, and finally the neutral, loyal, and polite Central Intelligence Monitor. Old World Blues had such an interesting and loveable cast. There is not a single human character in the entirety of the DLC, yet all of those feel vivid and alive. 

Those are my two cents on Old World Blues. A beautifully written, poignant, and entertaining piece of gaming. Now, we move on to Lonesome Road. 

[jane-the-zombie]

Freefalling || Otto & Jane

TIMING: Before mimes. PARTIES: @gravityfissure and @jane-the-zombie SUMMARY: Jane fell off a cliff. RIP. 

When she was off duty and not worried about being stabbed by a mime, Jane was a different person. White Crest, surprisingly, was more dangerous than she had anticipated. Between pieces of shit teenagers jumping in front of her car in the dark, mime stabbings, and the thick wild life… she wasn’t as bored as she was afraid she was going to be when transferred out of the city and to such a small town. Just a normal town, as they said. The rockwall had been found on a previous hike. Raising up about 40-50 feet, she was sure that getting to the top would give her the most glorious view of the ocean. Of course, the view wasn’t what had her attached to the wall, scaling it without any proper safety equipment. Falling didn’t matter. She started the climb probably fifteen minutes ago, leaving her backpack down at the bottom. She grunted quietly, pulling herself further up. Jane glanced down, checking her progress. If she fell from this height, she would die. Jane laughed, pulling herself up further, that fact just made her want to go faster, the adrenaline pumping through her veins, and - Her foot slipped off it’s foothold and she was off balance. “Fuck!” Jane swore loudly, trying to correct herself. That just made it worse. Scraping her hands against the rocks, she was suddenly falling backwards and down towards a very unforgiving ground.  

He’d settled faster than he’d anticipated into the small town of White Crest, it had been pure luck and desperation really that he’d fallen into the position he had. He could live off the money he had in the bank from all the jobs he’d pulled for the Tarot but that money had its limitations and he’d rather not splash those funds just yet. So the convenience of a job that somewhat suited his alchemical talents of mixing potions (albeit mixing drinks) with a magical flare helped keep him from worrying too much. It didn’t seem as though anyone had caught on to him here, and that suited him just fine, though it didn’t stop him from wondering just how long it would be before he could go home. To see his family again and pound the streets with those familiar faces. But a quiet voice in the back of his head answered his lingering thoughts, sewing doubts into the subconscious quiet of his mind. Not until you understand. Not until you control. But control was one of those issues. No matter how hard he tried to recreate the complex emotional situation he had yet to feel that surge of power, the tangling of invisible threads that had allowed him to quite literally reverse the forces acting on a bullet meant to take his life. It was this attempt at learning control that explained why he sat staring balefully with an extended hand at a pile of rocks under the shade of the trees. “Fuck!” he grunted at another failed attempt to move them shoving to his feet and stalking to the edge of the small private clearing he utilised for his practise.

It was looking out to the ocean that he suddenly saw something strange. A woman falling, picking up speed towards the ground from a height that would maim if not kill if she hit. The wash of panic and adrenaline that overtook him was instantaneous, his body and mind syncing simultaneously. A violet shimmer washed over his eyes as his hands were thrown up palms facing the sky before curling his fingers into tight fists as though grasping and pulling the air towards him. And suddenly, the woman no longer plummeted, instead, drifting slowly down to the ground as the kinetic energy of her fall was dissipated in a shockwave nearby sending a few stones skittering down the cliff. Otto barely felt the blood trickling from his nose as he skidded down the slope towards the woman, “shit lady, are you okay?”

It was funny. She heard from victims that survived dangerous falls that time seemed to slow down before they crashed to the ground, but not like this. Jane was disoriented when it hit her. She had been falling - plummeting to her ‘death’, really - and then she was… floating? Jane didn’t register that she was safely on the ground, small stones and rocks scattering off the adjacent cliff, until she heard a voice and feet skidding across the rocks. Brow furrowed, she pushed herself up to sitting position and immediately began to check herself over for injuries, confused. She wasn’t… injured, minus the scraping on her palms. That would hurt later, but it certainly wasn’t going to kill her.  Jane realized that her heart was beating fast and she felt great - she never had a rush quite like that before. The feeling of plummeting down to the ground as it got closer and closer and closer until… well. She clearly didn’t die. She wasn’t craving brains, and she was fairly certain she wouldn’t have woken up right away either. She looked up at the man that approached and frowned at him.

“Your nose is bleeding,” Jane pointed at his nose, still slightly dazed and high from whatever the hell just happened, She wondered if she did it again, the same thing would happen. She pushed herself off the ground, her balance wobbly for a moment. Knees weak, probably with fear. Great. She may not fear death, but she wasn’t about to test her luck. Today at least. She went to grab her backpack off the ground. “I’m fine, I guess,” Jane said, looking up at the cliffside she had been trying to climb. “Did you see what happened? What was that?” She was fishing around for something in her pack now - where was it? The first-aid kit. She needed to put bandages on her hands, and rando here’s nose was gushing blood. “Are you alright?” Jane asked, finally pulling it out. “Did something hit you? Bad allergies? Come here.”

Otto knew the rules as well as the next person, but something about this had been instinctual. The shock of seeing someone plummeting to their imminent demise and instinct to act. The need to save them. It stirred lingering feelings of guilt as the memories that plagued him of the day he’d discovered these very abilities rose to the surface. But that was tempered for the time being by the mild horror of someone almost dying. Not to mention lingering underneath those cacophony of emotions was the surprise and returning frustration that he’d managed to summon these powers once more in a situation beyond his control. Was that the key? Shit. He really didn’t want powers that only thought themselves useful when shit was hitting the fan.

“What?” he questioned as he skidded to a stop on a few loose rocks not yet realising the twin streams of crimson trailing down from his nostrils. “You guess? You just fell like forty fucking feet,” he glanced at the cliff in question and then back to her as she shakily got to her feet. “I--” he gaped for a moment, the panic and shock leaving him feeling more than a little light-headed himself. “No idea, no fucking idea I guess… You just got lucky,” what else was there to say? I can do magic and saved your goddamn life and you owe me one for almost giving me a heart attack? He closed his mouth, wiping his nose with a slightly shaking hand and seeing it come away stained crimson he blinked. “Oh, shit” he muttered moving to pinch the bridge of his nose with a wince and leaning forwards slightly to stem the blood. “I’m… fine, this uh… happens when… I’m stressed. And that… was stressful.” He noticed the first aid kit she pulled out, “got any… gauze or something in there by any chance?”

“Well,” Jane considered, looking up at the cliff side, trying to gauge where she had been before she had lost her footing. “It was more like thirty. Maybe thirty-five? I still had a bit to go before I pulled myself up to the top. Ah, well, semantics.” Jane waved it off uncaringly as she brushed a piece of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail. She glanced at him, examining him sharply. Gotten lucky? Lucky? “Lucky is one way of putting it,” she said, doubtfully. Something more was at work, but she wasn’t quite sure what it was. It definitely hadn’t been her that slowed herself down. Hours spent grilling her ex-fiancee on what exactly he did to her hadn’t included magic pre-zombie you’re a wizard, harry crap, and from what Jason said, after she became a zombie, none of that shit would impact her anyway. Still, she guessed she was supposed to be thankful she was saved by something, since nobody else knew that dying didn’t really mean what it meant to everyone else. “Good thing, though.” She added, lazily.

Jane held the first aid kit out to him, not wanting to touch the gauze she had with her own bloodied hands. It was funny, he seemed to be more stressed out by her fall than she was. “Here, you need to sit down,” Jane pointed to a nearby rock. “Come on, lean forward and keep pinching your nose like that. Are you sure you’re alright?” He seemed shaken, and she almost felt a little bad. Well, she hadn’t known she was going to fall off a cliff today. “What’s your name?” She asked, casually. “I’m Jane. And what are you doing out here? Hiking? It is a nice day.”

“You don’t seem very fazed by… that, like at all” he waved at the cliff more than a little perturbed by this stranger's apparent lack for care regarding their own well-being. Falling from a height like that should have scared anyone out of their might witless, but this woman seemed more than okay and Otto couldn’t help but side-eye her a little in caution. Either she was some kind of immortal or something else.

As the first aid kit was offered, Otto took a couple of pieces of gauze with his clean hand and brought it under his nose to try and stem the bleeding with a muttered thanks. He nodded mutely, maneuvering himself to sit down on the indicated spot the horizon of his vision swaying a little with the intensity of the magic he’d summoned in such a short period of time. It was exhilarating but equal measures exhausting. “Otto… Name’s Otto,” he answered after a short pause, why had he left his bag up there with his trusty bottle of booze in it? He needed a drink to steady his nerves. “Hiking wha-” the confusion lasted but a moment before he caught on, “oh, uh, yeah… hiking. You know… since the sun’s back.” though in his current jeans and t-shirt he was hardly dressed for a long ‘hike’ through the trails in the region. His eyes flickered back to the cliff once more, “what were you doing? Seems kind of like a death wish to... go up there.”

Jane carefully followed him, waiting for him to take gauze out of the kit before grabbing some herself to treat her hands. Some disinfectant and a couple bandaids and she’d be good as new. She couldn’t believe some man that came across her was bleeding more than her and she had just fallen off a cliff side. “Ah, well… Maybe I’m in shock,” she said, doubtfully. Her legs were still wobbly, doing that damn leg shaky thing people did when they were anxious or hopped of on something. Her adrenaline high was quickly wearing off, probably because she was stuck worrying about a bloody nose - actually, she was kind of worried about the bloody nose because he sort of like… She didn’t know. Not alright. “It’s fine, no one died.” She shrugged.

“Otto…” The name sparked a memory, something that someone said online, but she couldn’t quite remember at that moment. He had faltered with her hiking excuse she fed him, she she raised an eyebrow curiously. And he wasn’t dressed for it either. She raised an eyebrow, and glanced up at the cliff side. “Rock climbing.” Then again, she wasn’t dressed for hardcore rock climbing either. Most people didn’t do that shit in athletic leggings and her old Colby College zip up hoodie. “Freehand. It is dangerous. You shouldn’t try it.” Jane advised. It was okay for her to do this shit, she was the one that would live forever. She rubbed the side of her neck, over the scar. “As you can see why. People fall.” She added.

Perhaps if he wasn’t so distracted by someone nearly splattering themselves across the rocks he would’ve reacted differently and maybe been able to place the name. But as it stood, Otto had other things on his mind and he felt some slight pressure in his temples that made thinking straight harder than it usually was. “That’s not shock,” he cast his gaze back to her, bright but stern blue eyes fixed for a lingering second. He’d seen shock plenty of times before, that definitely wasn’t it. “You could’ve...”

Otto could usually get on the ball rather quickly when he was working at full capacity, but the rush of unexpected and uncontrolled magic had tapped him. Eventually pulling the bloodied gauze away he sniffed, grimacing at the ache in his nose but another touch indicated it wasn’t bleeding anymore. Small mercies. So he looked back to this woman as he announced herself a rock climber, and then in a sense that left him staring at her as if she’d grown another head. “No shit it’s dangerous,” the sarcasm was dry on his voice. Otto narrowed his eyes a fraction standing up a little as he continued to eye her dubiously, the sunlight streaming overhead told him well enough she wasn’t a vampire. So something else or she was simply willing to risk her life for a thrill. When she rubbed her neck his eyes tracked the movement and narrowed further in suspicion, while the mark was a bit obstructed by the hoodie it wasn’t difficult to miss something so distinct. You didn’t grow up in a city filled with eight-million souls and not run into lots of different supernaturals and Otto had run into a fair collection by now. “You get bit?”

“No,” Jane agreed. It wasn’t shock, and by the stern look in his eye, they both knew it. She wasnt’ about to string it along or start pretending like she was in shock now. “I think I’m just grateful I’m okay.” He couldn’t call that a lie, even if it wasn’t necessarily true. “Because you’re right. I could have died. But I didn’t. Thankfully.” She wondered what the process of becoming a zombie was like. If she would just black out and wake up later, hungry for brains. Jason had a normal enough life - normal enough to fool her for years. She supposed it would be the same thing.

Otto didn’t seem to be too pleased with her. Or maybe it was the situation. She tired explaining why she did what she did to her brother and her father - the skydiving, the bungee-jumping, all the dangerous things she signed up for or did without proper safety equipment, and they hadn’t understood. Her little sister called it a midlife crisis and left it be. She watched as he stood, and half stood herself, not sure he was ready to get up yet. “Hey now,” Jane said, cautiously. Wait, what was he doing. “What? Stop looking at me like…. That.” Jane would have called it cop eyes, but he didn’t necessarily have the demeanor of a fellow cop - though she supposed she couldn’t judge a book by a cover, as the old saying went. She frowned slightly, tracking his eyes to her neck, and she let out a sigh. She had been self concious about the stupid scar at first. IT was ugly and noticeable, but once she figured out that she wasn’t about to spend all that cash on makeup and that she could just hide it with a few fancy side braids at work she didn’t care. What was one scar vs. living forever, anyway. “Yeah,” she said finally, settling back on the rock and reaching for her large metal water bottle. She held it out to him. “Got into a fight at my job and he got me,” she said. “Here. For your hand. And face. To get the blood off.”

“Hmph,” his gaze lingered for a moment as she gave her reasoning and he wondered for a moment whether this was the truth. But he couldn’t sense any reason to say that what she said wasn’t true in some regard, she had lived, she was still here and how could anyone not be somewhat thankful for that? “Was gonna say, would be pretty strange to not be thankful for that.” But then in a town like this who could really say what normal was?

Seeing her move to stand he waved his hand a little, slightly dismissive of her coming to his aid. He appreciated it but something about all of this didn’t add up. Though the pieces began to formulate in his mind as he took the situation and incremental bits he was discovering and put them together. “Like what?” an innocuous question by all regards, but the piercing curiosity couldn’t always be tempered or helped. But there was no helping his assessment, and his eyes lingered for a moment or two. Would it be better not to ask? But then again if you never asked the question you never got the answer. As she offered the water canister he took it and washed off his hand and used a clean bit of the gauze to deal with the blood on his face, “thanks,” he said, handing it back but his eyes returned once more to the mark and then the sun that streamed down overhead. His head tilted as she confirmed what he thought the mark to be and there was a stretch of silence. “So what? You’re a werewolf or a zombie?” it had to be one or the other. The other options simply didn’t fit.

It certainly wasn’t that she wasn’t thankful for being alright, it’s just that regardless of how things had plated out, she would have been just fine. She had a few near death experiences before - and hell, she had been shot at on multiple occasions at her job. Jane was indifferent. “Quite strange,” she agreed, going back to tending to her hands. There was the bottle of disinfectant. She grabbed it, putting a little on the gauze as she began dabbing at the scrape. Ouch.

Jane glanced back up at him. “Like that,” she repeated, narrowing her eyes at him. He knew like what. Like that. What he’d just been doing. “Like you’re going to try to interrogate me,” Jane said after a moment. She had continued to dab at her hand, and had just been reaching for the small box of bandaids in the kit when he asked the money question. She looked up at him, startled by the question. There was that damn thing about werewolves again. “Are you fucking with me?” Jane asked, automatically. She certainly wasn’t in denial about what was going to happen to her - she did that song and dance long ago, 5 stages of whatever. But Jason had pleaded with her not to tell anyone. There were people that murdered people like him because they thought he shouldn’t exist. Jane thought that made sense, even if she didn’t agree with it - no one should be murdering anyone. At all. - but zombies got a bad name, considering all the media about them. Other than her ex-fiance being a lying son-of-a-bitch, he was an upstanding citizen. He even paid his taxes. She looked to Otto, before grabbing the box of bandaids to continue what she was doing, thinking carefully. “I don’t know if I should answer that,” Jane finally said, but she held up a bloody hand. Zombies didn’t bleed. “But I’m certainly human.” For now, at least.

Another look was briefly shot over his shoulder to where he’d been working, hopefully no one nicked his stuff in the interim. But he looked back to Jane after a moment while she dabbed at her hand. His eyes remained narrowed, but they eased a fraction as she seemed to grow a little defensive. Understandable, but ultimately they could dance around this in circles all day. It really didn’t mean anything to Otto whether he learned the truth or not, but ultimately having tabs on one more supernatural - if she even was one didn’t hurt. “Depends, that was a pretty hefty fall you survived. Certainly not natural by any means...” he countered evenly as he stood there his posture relaxed as he studied her reaction which in itself was telling. No sort of denial to the fact. Interesting.

“Sure, right now… But a bite like that doesn’t come with some kinda consequence…” he tilted his head to indicate her neck once more. “You ain’t a vamp, you’d be toast by now if you were so it’s one or the other…” A slight sigh through his nose sounded at the evasive response. “Look you can answer it, I’m not gonna go full Van Helsing or Leon S. Kennedy on you if you are… Plenty of people in town are… different and it’s useful to know who you can trust when those people who don’t have quite so many qualms about the issue do decide to not be so liberal and get their weapons out.”

She glanced over to where he kept looking, and finally stood back up once the bandaids were on her hands. They seemed to be tiptoeing around each other, dancing around this hidden truth that none of them were willing to admit. “I would have died,” Jane said, dryly. “I was falling head first, so take that for what it is.” Jane brushed that stray piece of hair out of her face again, folding her arms over her chest, staring at him. Consequence. She knew what her consequence was, and she was fine with it. What human didn’t want to be immortal.

Her eyes narrowed, however, when he continued. Vamps - vampires. Great. So those were things too, apparently. Or the guy was a nutjob. Either one. “You’ll forgive me for being reserved,” she said, a little stiff. She glanced back up the small slope where he had approached from in the first place, gathering her first aid kit back up,and stuffed it back in her pack now that nobody was bleeding profusely anymore. “I’m aware of the town, though I haven’t met too many other who are… Also aware of things.” She eyed him suspiciously, the ‘cop eyes’ now turned on him. “What are you really doing out here? And why do you know about…” Jane gestured vaguely to the side of her neck. “Most people leave it alone when I say I’ve gotten bit. You came from up there, right?” Jane pointed up the slope, ready to go climb up and take a look at it herself. She paused though, to glance at him. “Not… Not a werewolf.” She would give him that to make his own conclusion. It was basically as good as telling him anyhow.

Otto knew the benefit of keeping his opinions about certain things to himself. And on some topics he had a rather lengthy set of opinions and thoughts. But around strangers he tended to err on the side of caution before he started to talk too openly. Though not being straight could often lead to length and time-wasting conversations that could be better spent discussing more relevant matters. So, he braced himself and took the leap of faith he felt was required.

“Well, one of us has to say it or else where are we going to get? I don’t have all day to dance around things...” As she packed up he figured that this would be it and she would go her own way… “Most tend to prefer their privacy… There’s a decent community of supernaturals but Hunters have never been particularly forgiving.” Her own suspicious look caused Otto to stiffen a little himself. “Minding my own until someone needed saving and interrupted me...” he gestured towards the cliff as if to bolster his point. And the moment she started in the direction he’d come from he opened his mouth to protest, before he hurried up after her. “Most people like to stand on precedence and respect people’s privacy… I like to keep myself informed” and alive by proxy of knowing. “Right… Not a werewolf” which was his way of acknowledging he understood what wasn’t being said. A glance to her hands further informed him of her current state, not turned either… Good. So his brains weren’t on the plate.

“I’ve heard of Hunters,” Jane said, a frown on her face. This was the second time she was discussing hunters with someone, even if she truly didn’t understand what they were. Or she hadn’t ever met one. Well, knowingly, at least. It wasn’t smart to shoot your mouth off about killing people in front of a police detective. If you don’t have all day to dance, maybe you shouldn’t ask, was what she wanted to say, but she didn’t because she knew as well as anyone that she would have been asking questions too.

And, well, she was  going to ask questions because she was pretty sure he didn’t want her to go this way, and she was certainly going to do it anyway. “You make it sound like you’re the one that did the saving,” Jane replied back suspiciously as she got to the site and glanced around. Well, at least he wasn’t out here doing some weird cult shit with sacrificing chickens and goats or something. A strange rock circle, and some old books… Jane hummed, kneeling down to poke at them. “Keeping yourself informed is keeping yourself alive,” she reasoned, “So I suppose I can’t really blame you. What are these?” Jane glanced back at him curious if he would answer her or not. He clearly knew about werewolves and zombies and vampires, and she had to wonder if he was one himself. Though, maybe he was just some poor unfortunate human that got thrust with this shit. Then again... She looked between the old books and then back at him. “Out hiking, you said?” she asked, innocently.

“Hearing ‘bout them and experiencing them are two different matters… And if you are what you say you are, turned or not then they’ll be out for your head if they do happen to learn the truth of it.” Perhaps it was ominous or even a harsh reality, but Otto was giving her the cold hard facts of that situation. Whilst he spoke a hand raised to rub at his right forearm. “Just as a word of warning.”

Her suspicions were met with a slightly weary look, he didn’t particularly owe this woman anything to confirm that he’d saved her life though by this point it was pretty much a given. The clues were all there if you wanted to put the pieces together. “The point is, consider the impact your actions are gonna have on other people. I can’t afford the therapy needed for seeing someone’s head smashed in - zombie or not.” When they arrived at the site of his practise and seeing the look this woman gave his books, he narrowed his eyes. A sharp flick of his wrist followed, the cover flipping over and lock on its side snapping tightly shut. “My stuff,” he answered vaguely, going to pick up the books and tuck them into his backpack along with a couple of the focus crystals set out. The question earned a side-eye as he paused in his packing, “uh huh that’s what I said… Hiked out here to read.” Which technically wasn’t a lie.

“I know,” Jane said simply, looking at Otto with a matter of fact look on her face. “That’s usually why I try to keep it under wraps. You know, in case I ever run into one. Warning taken, thank you,” she said with a shrug. She wasn’t concerned about that anymore, however, because now she was more curious about Otto. He laid out the clues in front of her, and as she watched his book snap shut with a wave of his hand, and she concluded in her head. He didn’t really need to say it, just like she didn’t really need to say what she was (or what she was going to be) either.

“Your stuff,” she repeated, “That you lugged all the way out here to read.” She was amused now. Jane stood, hands on her hips as she looked him up and down. “Alright, sure. You hiked out here to read your magic books, where you saw me up there -” Jane pointed back to the cliff she had been scaling. “- did… whatever you did to stop me from smashing my head open. Is that what made your nose bleed?” she asked, curiously. How the hell did that work? How did any of that work? She considered his earlier words about how her actions would impact others, and she scoffed. “I didn’t know you were out here.” She pointed out. “If I had, I would have chosen another spot. But I’m not actively trying to die, you know. I slipped. It was an accident.”

Packing the last of his items away into his bag he side-eyed the woman again for a moment. “Yeah my stuff,” a backpack full of stuff was hardly that suspicious in the grand scheme of things “issue?” Though his eyes thinned for a moment as he shifted the bag up onto his shoulder. “You ask a lot of questions, you know that right?” No clarification was given but she’d figured it out for herself so there was no need for it.

“Magic has its consequences,” was the simplest and most concise response that summed up all the relevant answers into one. “A nosebleed is a rather mundane one.” Hearing her scoff Otto cocked his head to one side. “Yeah, well, how about next time you get some ropes?”

“It’s sort of my job to ask questions,” Jane said, a bit of a smug smile on her face. The truth, though maybe a little extreme in this case. A nosebleed was just a rather mundane consequence, was it? Jane considered asking him if he wanted to try it again, try to stop her fall. It had been fun, looking back at it. Like an extreme form of bungee jumping. Except she wasn’t quite sure he was going to go for that, considering his insistence that she bring ropes and gear the next time she went out.

“Right, ropes,” she said, and then gave a bit of a shrug. “Sure, I’ll definitely do that next time. Probably.” Jane gave him a once over, considering asking something else about magic, before she once again thought better of it. She shifted the bag on her back headed back towards the slope. She raised a hand in goodbye. “Well, have a good rest of your day with your ‘hiking’ and your ‘stuff’. Try not to not get another nose bleed next time.” She skidded down the slope haphazardly, back down towards the path.