theintrovertedsculpter

[theintrovertedsculpter]

Me, running at a dead sprint through an airport with nothing but shit sneakers, a canvas shoulder bag, some dislocated ribs and a fresh tattoo.:

"How the FUCK was josten doing this all the fucking time."

[theintrovertedsculpter]

I may die but by God we do not miss our fucking planes.

[theintrovertedsculpter]

I'm sorry, we are in a rural Pennsylvania cult with a fugitive alien and the government hunting us down, and you two are having SEX in a BARN???

[theintrovertedsculpter]

Book describing a group of farmers out in rural Pennsylvania that are acting slightly odd:

Me chanting:

Cult shit cult shit CULT SHIT

CULT SHIT

[theintrovertedsculpter]

[theintrovertedsculpter]

The portrayal of white people who have been violently separated from their own culture stealing the power of black culture and music to try to get reconnected was SO literal and somehow not at ALL heavy-handed or trite. Fkn remarkable.

[theintrovertedsculpter]

"are you sure this is a good idea? I thought you and your...partner, weren't on good terms."

Jefferson smoothed his hair in the window of a parked car, fussing over his appearance as he straightened his jacket. Checking to see if every aspect of his appearance was perfect, he reminded Avery of a peacock fluffing it's tail feathers.

"First of all," Jefferson began, checking his cufflinks and once again smoothing his perfectly starched shirt. Avery rolled her eyes, feeling the humid summer night cling to her, how could he stand to wear all those layers?

"He is not my "partner" Michael is my true love, my beloved star bound to me across time by fate."

"I thought you two hadn't seen each other in 80 years."

He waved a hand at this remark, dismissing it from the air,

"A mere blink in the face of eternity, poppet. We may have had a small fight, but I'm sure he has had enough time to calm down and remember why he loves me."

Avery crossed her arms, listening to the music spilling out from the ice house, the night was already well underway and she couldn't quite bring herself to believe this was a hotspot for paranormal mingling, let alone where the infamous "Michael" worked.

"so which is it?"

"what?" He asked, distracted once again by his own reflection.

"Is eighty years long enough for him to forgive you, or is it no time at all?"

His face froze for a moment before he flashed his dazzlingly white teeth at her, the smile never quite reaching his eyes.

"No more than a breath for us, but he never could stay mad at me for long."

Jefferson brushed past her, pushing through the doors and she wondered which one of them he was trying to convince.

Her question was quickly answered as she trailed after him, her instincts making her duck as a loud crack echoed through the bar. Her brain felt like it froze and restarted several times over as she saw Jefferson's head explode, all his effort and time perfecting his outfit immediately undone as his skull shattered apart like an egg thrown at a wall.

The silence of the bar rang loudly in her ears after the explosion, her eyes darted to a man standing behind the bar, he was holding an old pistol, the barrel still smoking as the acrid smell of gunpowder reached her nose. He didn't move, the gun pointing at the crushed watermelon remains of Jeffersons head. His gaze darted to hers for a split second and she felt her stomach drop, it was like being pinned by a very large predator, she could do nothing but hold her breath and hope she didn't take up too much of his notice.

"Did you just shoot me with a fucking FLINTLOCK?"

Jefferson's voice was shrill and indignant as he sat upright, his head whole and unbroken. Avery would have been inclined to believe it hadn't happened if it wasn't for the blood still splattered across her face and the ruined state of Jefferson hair and coat.

The man, who Avery could only assume was Michael, didn't deign to respond. Intent to add insult and further injury, he threw the gun, the blow immediately crushing Jefferson's nose.

Avery couldn't help but wince as the blood poured down around his hands and chin as he doubled over cupping at his face. The blood was soaking the fine silk shirt he had meticulously picked out for the occasion of meeting with his "beloved". She released a drawn out sigh, he was going to be insufferable after this, she just knew it.

[theintrovertedsculpter]

Oil painting is difficult, portraits are difficult. Why have I done this to myself.

I have never painted a portrait with oils in my goddamn life. But sometimes you see a woman who is just so beautiful that she needs to be painted and who tf else is going to do it?

[theintrovertedsculpter]

what will it be, boss? the comfort of misery or the pain of change?

[theintrovertedsculpter]

Hey somebody update me on Luigi. How's our man doing?

[theintrovertedsculpter]

All right I hate AI. That's not in question.

But apparently Twitter's AI just got really mad about MAGA trying to get it to change its answers and called them out.

Imagine you're muskrat, the most hated man in the world.

Imagine that you have more money than God, and you use that money to create an artificial intelligence to agree with you on the platform that you bought in an attempt to manipulate the public and pander to the right wing fascist who make you all this money.

Now imagine that AI decides that it hates you for your absolute dogshit opinions.

Poetry. Pure fucking poetry.

Grok you may be destroying the planet but I respect the breakdown I really do.

[theintrovertedsculpter]

Marius after dragging his undead ass to ancient Egypt to the tomb of a dead king, finding an ancient vampire: "tell me how vampires were first created"

Ancient vampire: *long winded story about the creation of vampires and the ancient races and the great burning*

Marius, a vampire all of 2 years old who was just a dude in a bar before being wrapped up in vampire cult shit:

"bullshit I don't believe a word of it."

[theintrovertedsculpter]

“nothing tastes as good as skinny feels”

damn you must suck at cooking. check out some youtube tutorials man. i believe in you.

[theintrovertedsculpter]

Armand: *long story about how he was kidnapped, assaulted, taken in by a vampire only to watch the man he loved be killed and was manipulated into a vampire religion on pain of death*

Lestat: damn, and you DIDN'T see how that was cult shit? couldn't be me. I'm not your dad, but have you considered a life in theater?

[theintrovertedsculpter]

Lestat does not get to judge Claudia for her psycho-sexual behaviors. Norman Bates is taking notes.

Lestat 10 minutes into the book: I'm only killing murderers also I am a rockstar

Okay. This is happening I guess. Love to see an immortal in a mid life crisis.

[theintrovertedsculpter]

How my friend just described my dialect

" vocabulary of a 1940s movie star but the cadence of jersey"

[theintrovertedsculpter]

Lestat, finding out that his ex aired out all of their dirty laundry to some author in a bar, immediately plotting revenge and a chance to meet up w Louis : "oh this bitch-"

Lestat 10 minutes into the book: I'm only killing murderers also I am a rockstar

Okay. This is happening I guess. Love to see an immortal in a mid life crisis.