tuskwashing

[tuskwashing]

Projecting my period cramps onto Gilgamesh king of Uruk

[tuskwashing]

susie is my favorite of the deltarune cast 1000% and one of my favorite characters possibly ever and yet i cant form a single coherent thought on her. i cant even like, think properly about what specifically in her character speaks to me without feeling like a kicked wet puppy. she makes me feel so much and i cant even put it into words for like a coherent analysis or anything

and then she just says shit like this randomly. one of the characters that truly speaks to me like no other and one that ive found so much meaning in. and she just says shit like this for some reason. Why the fuck does she say this. this has been stuck in my head for the past week i just say French fry, (oo), on the freaking ground. randomly and start giggling like a maniac to myself. thank you susie deltarune. thank you toby fox

[tuskwashing]

susie is my favorite of the deltarune cast 1000% and one of my favorite characters possibly ever and yet i cant form a single coherent thought on her. i cant even like, think properly about what specifically in her character speaks to me without feeling like a kicked wet puppy. she makes me feel so much and i cant even put it into words for like a coherent analysis or anything

and then she just says shit like this randomly. one of the characters that truly speaks to me like no other and one that ive found so much meaning in. and she just says shit like this for some reason. Why the fuck does she say this. this has been stuck in my head for the past week i just say French fry, (oo), on the freaking ground. randomly and start giggling like a maniac to myself. thank you susie deltarune. thank you toby fox

[tuskwashing]

 Captain Grant Curly isn't one for dreams. He isn't prone to daydreaming, or to dreaming at night either. 

 Which is why the nightmare is so jarring, even before it settles in around his shoulders like a shock blanket, the reality of it all - how far away any world wherein such brutality could come to happen is.

 Consciousness comes to him in the form of Anya. She's shaking him awake, calloused hands shaking as her grip on his shoulder eases and she curls in on herself, those sad, stormy eyes tracking his movement as his scream eases into coughing, wheezing, breathing in and gasping for air. 

 He has hands. He has hands.

 She did make him put on a gown, but the bandages are just on his legs.

 And- And Anya would've never been able to amputate that much meat. 

 There's no birthday cake. There's no-

 "Captain!" she yelps as he lurches forward, in her direction. She shoves herself away from him, the chair squeaking as it drags on the infirmary linoleum. 

 Curly vomits on the floor, by her feet.

  He mulls the events over in his head. There was-

 "I'm going to get a mop and a glass of water." Anya's voice breaks through the memory of flesh. The taste of it. 

 The girl at the head of the table, the girl who was not a crewmate, who was too young to belong on the crew.  She moved and the chains rattled. He realized two things then, even when awake-

Though he had hands now, he still felt the cold links of the chain wrapping around his wrists, binding them together. He can move his hands, but he can't get rid of the sensation that they're tugging him somewhere.

The girl's words were fading from his mind, but when he shut his eyes, Curly saw her grin (people don't have that many teeth. it was just a dream).

  He shook his head, voice steadier than he felt, as the pain began to make itself known again, replacing adrenaline as the thing guiding his consciousness away from good decisions;

 "Don't go." He says, "I'll go with you. No point mulling over things here."

 He can't lie - he can't say he knows he can fix it. He doesn't.

"I can walk." he says, before she even opens her mouth. He smells burnt skin and raw meat. Lingering at the back of his throat, like a meal about to come back up?

 But what did she say? When the stumps of his hands tried to tug on the chain?

 He knows she said something. But he can only remember how the chains pulled him closer to her, rather than the other way around. 

"I'll-" he doesn't know what to say. He leans against the wall, one sore, burnt palm against the metal.

It's warm. Should the Tulpar's wall feel warm? Pulsating?

He must still be a bit asleep, even as he walks after Anya, like a shadow that she watches, looming over her shoulder, curling in on himself like that'll make him much shorter.

[tuskwashing]

Can anyone see this? It tells me that it found a signal.

I have not seen a phone of this kind since I was a very young child. It is all fuzzy. The lights won't stop flickering, even in the infirmary

The captain is asleep. I hope you cannot smell the burnt flesh through the screen - if you, whomever you are, exist at all. Maybe I'm being a pessimist, but I do not trust an ancient old phone when it says me and the crew aren't all alone in the dead of space.

. . .

Signing off, Anya. Just Anya.

[tuskwashing]

[OOC] the urge to roleplay is strong but the overthinking is stronger‼️‼️‼️/silly

[tuskwashing]

OOC post but

Yea

Are centaurs real and how do I find one

[tuskwashing]

Can anyone see this? It tells me that it found a signal.

I have not seen a phone of this kind since I was a very young child. It is all fuzzy. The lights won't stop flickering, even in the infirmary

The captain is asleep. I hope you cannot smell the burnt flesh through the screen - if you, whomever you are, exist at all. Maybe I'm being a pessimist, but I do not trust an ancient old phone when it says me and the crew aren't all alone in the dead of space.

. . .

Signing off, Anya. Just Anya.

[tuskwashing]

OOC

Hi!! My name is Sebastian, and I'm this blog's owner and writer. I am okay with he/him and she/her pronouns, and my art blog is @narenohate + my shitpost/main blog is @sunsetvulture. Enough about me - what is tuskwashing? Well. It's a mouthwashing what-if/AU - one where the attempt to destroy the Tulpar and its crew failed more miserably than ever anticipated. The asteroid was a false alarm: They have fallen through a wormhole, into a world where, against all logic and reasoning, pony express does not exist, and the technology they used for the spaceship itself is centuries ahead of its time. Earth is closer than it should be. They have months to go, but there should've been more. There is no signal, not for anything other than a crusty, old-looking touch-screen phone which Anya finds and hides. And, despite them setting sail with only five people aboard, there is food going missing, uniforms showing up in tatters, covered in spots of blood that correspond to none of the day's wounds. To add fuel to the fire of her theory that she is going insane, Anya's shadow is too small.

Worse yet - its shoulders shake with laughter whenever she stops to stare at it in the halls.

NOTES:

AU will eventually be OC-heavy + there will be more fantastical/surreal moments than the norm for this type of AU.