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Choose Your Own Bea's Adventure 4
(Previous Part Here)
You consider waiting, you really do, but the prospect of staying within the path of... whatever made that trail out of the lake does not sit well with you in the slightest.
You, first, step backwards, an uneasy feeling settling in your belly, one that reminds you a bit too much of that time the subway caught fire back when you were living in Jersey and you had to get off on an unfamiliar platform.
The fear of the unknown combined with the possibility of real danger has you turning heel and running before you can convince your legs to slow down so as not to create so much noise, but you can barely even hear yourself think over the sound of your heart pounding in your chest.
Decades ago, before life sank its teeth into you and ripped away what was left of your hopes and dreams, you'd taken up running as a hobby, and then as a sport in high school because it didn't cost money.
You ran all the time.
Everywhere.
Every day.
You were the second fastest in your school.
You thought maybe you'd be able to get a scholarship, but-
"FUCK!"
You lose your balance when your leg reminds you why you don't run anymore.
Your ankle shifts and your knee sends a shock of pain throughout your body.
You slap a hand over your mouth to prevent anymore noise from escaping your lips, but it's too late.
You can hear something moving.
Something big.
The treetops wave ominously despite the air going still, their newborn leaves casting shadows in the moonlight as you fumble to grab for your flashlight, but before you can grab it, you feel the temperature drop around you.
You manage to turn over, inhaling sharply as your leg seizes up again, and stare forward.
And then up.
And up.
And up.
Until your gaze meets the eyes of a towering, serpentine creature.
It looms over you from where you lay on the ground, its head cocked sideways; Appraisingly.
Large, feathery gills on the side of its neck flutter, and for a moment you glimpse a strange light illuminating from within the beast before it raises its snout into the air, letting out an eerie, crackling, clicking sound.
You think about its teeth, visibly poking out from its jaws, glinting in the moonlight.
You think about it eating you whole and leaving nothing to be mourned or buried.
You think about how there wouldn't be anyone to mourn you anyway.
You think about Mountain coming to find you.
You think about how, if you somehow got away, he'd lecture you until the words start to run together in your ears and your brain becomes a thin soup.
You think you wouldn't mind that now.
You think about how you should have fucking listened for once.
You think about dying alone.
You...
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Choose Your Own Bea's Adventure 3
(Previous Part Here)
Looking back down at the trail once more, you weigh your options -briefly considering just ignoring the damage or simply turning back- before coming to the most logical conclusion...
You're going to have to call Mountain about this.
Although you've been in the country for two years now, you're not wholly acquainted with the wildlife here, and looking at the size of the impression in the soil, this has to be from something big.
Your brain provides you with a mostly unhelpful list of possibilities as you dig through your pockets for your phone.
Bear?
No.
Moose?
Also no.
A boat?
Too narrow.
Scrolling through your contacts, you find Mountain's number easily; It's the only contact saved into your phone without a name... and the only number marked as one of your favorites.
For as much of a thorn in your side as he tends to be, he is your co-worker, and, furthermore, he's more experienced with... basically everything than you are, though you're loathed to admit it.
Hovering over his number for a moment, you debate handling, once more, simply heading back to the cabin or pressing on and ignoring damage.
Instead, the sounds of an owl hooting causes you to fumble your phone and fate takes matters into its own hands and by the time you manage to catch the damned thing, it's already calling Mountain.
As you wait for him to pick up, you turn your attention back to the lake's edge, bringing your flashlight over the water.
The surface is still, but something about the deep, murkiness of the lake leaves you feeling...
"Hello?"
You jump slightly when Mountain's voice comes through the phone and have to fight the impulse to shout.
You cough to cover up the sudden nervous pitch to your voice.
"...Have you been by the lake recently?" you ask, "Just out of curiosity."
You hear a bit of shifting and a dull squeak in the background on Mountain's end.
"No, I haven't." he says, "Is something wrong?"
You glance between the water and the woods.
"Hypothetically speaking... If I were to say I was walking over to the abbey to get dinner, and I saw, like, a long, dragged out trail from the lake's edge that goes, I dunno, I can't really tell how far into the woods... that's, like, two foot wide... Would you know what caused that? And if so, should I be concerned?"
There's a short pause, and you can hear as the man inhales sharply before letting out a long sigh.
You brace yourself for the lecture you're about to receive, but it doesn't come, not yet anyway.
"...How far away from the cabin are you?" he asks, voice low, "Which side of the lake are you on?"
You look back in the direction of the cabin, you can just barely see the glow of the porchlight.
"Um, like, a football field? American football? That far." you reply, "I'm on the left hand side, right side if you're coming from the abbey."
You hear a "tsk" sound leave his lips.
"I need you to listen very carefully and-"
*boop*
You move your phone away from your ear, tapping at the screen frantically.
...God fucking dammit.
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Dew, flustered: "The first night you spend with someone in their bed in a nonsexual way is infinitely more intimate to me than anything else, because, like, I could suck anyone's dick! ...But climbing into bed with Rain for the first time, to sleep? Fuck, that shit gave me goosebumps... I love that guy and he lets me sleep next to him... Got me giggling and kicking my feet in the air." Rain, confused: "...I thought you said you didn't like giving head?" Dew, deep sigh: "Perhaps I will get over it, being in love with this guy-"
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Swiss, in the infirmary, being tested for a concussion: "-So I said, 'You can sit on my face, it'll be fine!' and it was fine, until I remembered I cracked one of the slats on my bed frame last week and had taken the box of toys out from under it that was propping it up, and, well, down I went in two ways." Omega, sighing, taking notes: "And how are you feeling?" Cumulus, face in her hands: "Well..." -turning redder by the minute- "He... I, uh..." Swiss, giving two thumbs up: "I mean I was already in position, ya know?" Omega: "...I don't think you're concussed, but you are damned stupid." -clicks his pen- "I respect the commitment though."
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Choose Your Own Bea's Adventure 2
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(Part One Here)
Although you're hungry, you weigh your options and decide to take the long way around the lake.
The nights have been warmer lately, and the lake has been filled with life again these past few evenings, from frog calls to the sounds of animals stopping by to take a quick drink, you sometimes watch their comings and goings from your kitchen window.
But it's different, actually being outside like this.
"It may look nice," you recall Mountain -the tall clergyman who works alongside you in the gardens, and bane of your existence at present- warning you during your first year at the abbey, "but never let the woods fool you into thinking it's safe."
At the time, you hadn't so much scoffed at his words, but rather nodded understandingly.
You're not an idiot after all, and in your own way you'd said as much, which had only made his already furrowed brow pinch, and his lower eye lid twitch.
He made sure to repeat his warning often, to the point of annoyance, after that.
You really don't know how many times you had to promise him you wouldn't do... exactly what you're doing now.
As you trudge along the lake's edge, the trail begins to soften under your feet, and you take a moment to examine the path ahead, frowning when the hard packed earth gives way to sand and mud.
It has been raining a lot lately, but not enough for the soil to have eroded away to this extent.
You cast your light downwards and frown; A trail of flattened mud and dredged up sand leads from the water's edge and across the ground in front of you, the grass further inland is still trying to spring back up from where it was pressed down...
Something heavy had to have been dragged through here quite recently, but whatever it was had to have been at least two feet wide, and if it came from the water...
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Bea sketch based on the theme of this choose your adventure poll I'm doing. If you'd like to decide her fate, feel free to jump in and vote and we'll see where the story goes.
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Either she'll get a snack or be one, what kind, however, is entirely up to the whims of the audience.
This is also my way of getting back into drawing cryptids/horror art, but none of the imagery I will be using in the poll will get particularly... morbid.
Also, if you can see the hidden skull, lemme know.
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Choose Your Own Bea's Adventure
Your name is Beatrix Milne, you're 32 years old, and life has not been kind.
Quite frankly, you're surprised you've made it this far, but you're here, and as the older generation says, better above the ground than below it.
Two years ago, you started a new job in the Swedish countryside; Quite the leap, considering you were living out in the middle of nowhere in the US up until then, getting up to lord knows what with God knows who.
You don't even speak Swedish.
Not enough to be living abroad like this at least.
But you're a quick learner, and, lucky for you, English isn't that uncommon to hear in the abbey.
Right.
You work for an abbey now.
You've never been religious, in fact you're pretty sure if life has taught you one thing, God either picks favorites, or simply does not exist.
Although, it's his rival, you've been told, that the people in this particular building worship.
Yeup, you're working for theistic Satanists.
Someone somewhere is probably screaming for you to "GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE!" before the horror movie theme starts playing, but so far no one here has so much as touched a hair on your head.
You are, naturally, wary of your neighbors, to the extent that anyone would be.
You lock your doors at night, and you don't go out after dark unless absolutely necessary.
Annnddd since the weather has been so shitty lately, and you haven't had a chance to drive into town for supplies, looks like it's necessary.
Time to put the wheels in motion and get yourself over to the main building to raid the pantry for dinner.
You've gotten to know the way to and from your cabin pretty well by now, but you've never taken the trail after dark alone like this before.
Welp, it's now or never...
(Note: The path chosen will effect who you will encounter along the way, and will determine the level of danger Bea will be in going forward.)
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Choose Your Own Adventure; Imp Style End
(Previous Post)
Your stomach rumbles, and Omega lets out a laugh that shakes your whole body.
As time passes, and days turn into weeks, then months, and years, you grow accustomed to the striking volume of his voice, and find comfort in the rolling thunder of his snores as you sleep contentedly on his chest.
Good days, bad days, you spend them together, and while you could have never wholly prepared yourself for the times when Omega falls silent, lost in distant memories, or how it makes you feel when he cries, you press yourself close to him in those moments, and that's enough.
It's always enough for him, just knowing you're there.
You learn secrets you'll never tell, and you hear all names that only seem to fall from his lips late at night.
You play outside and go for long rides to more places you've never seen before.
Omega feeds you sneaky treats when, "Really, Megs? You're going to spoil them!" and "They're not spoiled, they're stale!" and "Is that a fucking dad joke, Megs? Cause they're Chips?"
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Your name is Chips, and you're spoiled as Hell, but all imps should be!
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Some sketches of Bea:
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I mostly wanted to get a handle on her body shape/the placement of her birthmarks, because she has six of them.
It was either bee hat Bea or ghoul Bea for the bottom filler sketch, and bee hat won, because it absolutely seems like something she'd be given by someone as a gag gift, but would then become part of her cold weather gear.
I was going to put her in a habit or one of the ghoul's uniforms, but I didn't wanna look up references, and I honestly don't know if, character wise, Bea would be inclined to wear one or the other
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Update: The meeting went fine, we all were able to discuss things we thought would make the shop better/we're going to implement some changes right away to test the waters for bigger ones down the line.
One of which will be opening earlier, so I'll have to adjust to that, but it's all good lol
Me, getting dressed for my off day meeting: "I will, in fact, be dressing in a way that prevents me from doing literally any physical labor today, as is my right."
Also me: "I have got to learn to sit in a skirt, because DAMN."
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Me, getting dressed for my off day meeting: "I will, in fact, be dressing in a way that prevents me from doing literally any physical labor today, as is my right."
Also me: "I have got to learn to sit in a skirt, because DAMN."
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I'm continuing on my music journey, in that I'm listening to Agalloch and Alcest, and recently I've dipped into Godspeed You! Black Emperor.
With Alcest, since it's in French, I can kind of understand the lyrics, though not entirely, so it's interesting to see what words ker-chunk over in my brain.
Like, Oiseaux de proie, I knew Oiseaux means bird, and de usually means of, so my brain supplied "bird of prey" even though I was sure it was a homophone, sort of like flower and flour.
I used to be a lot better at speaking and understanding French than I am now, but it's good to know some of it is still up there.
I really should get back into studying/learning the language again, if only because I miss being able to use it.
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Some Bea thoughts for this evening, because she's been on my mind lately. Let's go.
-Bea's first language is English, but she also understands Spanish -she can't hold an in-depth conversation, but she can get by- and has a loose grasp of Swedish, however, she struggles with intonation/properly articulating complex things through speech in general, and usually has an easier time conveying information through writing or demonstrating things instead.
When she speaks, Bea tends to use a lot of informal language and has difficulty pronouncing certain words/producing particular sounds.
As a result, she usually doesn't say much, and avoids holding long conversations with others if it means they might see her struggling.
This does not, however, stop her from arguing with Mountain, which helps her work through some of her usual issues with words.
Even when she does experience a hiccup in her speech while talking to him, Mountain still gets the gist of what she's trying to say and can easily fill in the blanks if something doesn't wholly make sense to him at first.
-Bea can hold a grudge like nobody's business, and is, in fact, the type of person who can recall exactly how and when you fucked up with receipts, but she can barely remember what she ate for breakfast some days.
And lastly;
-Bea's favorite flower is the cornflower, though she's also quite fond of tuberoses, and, really, any flowers, save for carnations and marigolds, which she thinks look too "crumpled".
Incidentally, although she is a gardener and takes care of the abbey's plants, all of the plants in her cottage are fake or require minimal watering, because by the time she gets done work for the day, she's too tired to take care of things at home, too.
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My boss finding out I don't know my own phone number offhand: "How should I contact you? A letter? Carrier pigeon?"
Me, who has lived pretty much next door to the guy for years: "Just holler over the hill and I'll get back to you-"
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Sometimes I'll think about something completely mundane from my childhood, because something will come up, like, hearing people talking about how they played with dolls growing up and all of that, and I'll be like, "Haha, yeah."
...And then proceed to spend the next hour in total silence with whatever video I was watching or my music paused as I sit and deconstruct and psychoanalyze the way I acted as a child and how that pertains to both myself as an adult and which things I did that were more obvious signs that I had a mental illness/anxiety issues prior to some of the traumatic events in my life-
All this to say, I really should get back to that Power Wash Simulator playthrough I was watching.
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Me: -has the time and desire to draw-
Also Me: -wavering between having too much energy and no energy-
Me, Again: -not knowing what I want to draw nor how to execute it-
Me: "...Well, shit."
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Multighouls come in a sliding scale of horny Eleanor thought peaked with Swiss.
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