i can feel myself detethering from reality to avoid crashing into the danger zone ditch again, both paths against my desire. upside, the audio hallucinations could definitely be worse? i'm used to it being all kinds of awful morbid shit but today, for some reason that i do not know, and dare not jinx by questioning, i'm hearing that one radio broadcast of a beyonce song that only released in another timeline (so it doesn't actually exist) i heard that one time before in a previous state like this, but i hear it again just far away in a car parked above me (i'm underground) and to the right with its speakers on too loud (it's not really there)
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[PRIVATE BROADCAST: 1 Anonymous participant (BC, NS)]
BC: With all the talk about your work on finding the solution NS, I would want to ask-
BC: What research do you conduct? What recent iterations have you completed?
BC: I seem to find another that still has not given up on the problem. I am one of those too.
BC: Personally, I specialize more in simulations. How about you?
I’ve always tried to partake in a little bit of everything. I create programs, run simulations…and yet, my main area of expertise have always been calculations. Not objective, tangible ones, no—theoretical. Math that exists in a hypothetical state. While it might sound…paradoxical, I suppose, considering my stance on such subjects, calculating the statistical possibilities of certain events happening has always been my biggest focus.
…I understand that might not be fully getting the point across. Now, allow me to try and reimagine this in clearer terms: my research centers around alternate universes. Around their possible existence, of course, along with if it is plausible to somehow travel to said universes; along with the nature of the Cycle—if it is, perhaps, a pocket dimension of its own, duplicating in on itself, and particularly if it even exists as a concept in other universes. If it doesn’t, perhaps that might’ve been the Answer this whole time—if, somehow, there was a feasible way to transmit oneself to a universe such as that…well. That would’ve been it.
...But, as you can clearly see, I am still just standing here, unable to provide you with a proper answer—despite all my time and effort, as much as I loathe to admit it, my research has been rather futile. It has lead me nowhere—universes, the Cycle…it’s just dead-end after dead-end. Perhaps it is because I’ve never been one for entertaining pointless mind exercises such as these, but once upon a time even I had some hope for a project like this to—
…
Apologies. I shouldn’t bring my own personal feelings into this, even if the lack of concrete results is very frustrating. However, has left me no choice but to continue my endeavors, no matter how tired of this back-and-forth I’ve become.
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Can I ask about Tortuga part 2? 👀
Hello, and omg thanks for your interest! This WIP is a sequel to the story Tortuga, originally posted as part of the Dark Gray Deliverance collection on FFN (soon to be fully available on AO3). Here's a sneak peek!
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Valerie stared out the window in a daze, still sitting in a wheelchair. On occasion, her nerves seized with phantom pains from the GIW’s experiments to replicate her suit and end her life. In her lap was Dan Phantom’s folded cape, the edges of which flickered against her skin.
It was almost a comfort. A stabilizing presence and proof that Phantom had rescued her, even if he had not done so out of altruism or love. The Red Huntress was simply a devil he knew compared to the super soldiers being bred by the GIW.
She still felt his cool fingers against her skin—the gentleness of his touch—and she chilled in the warm sunlight, swallowing down hard emotion. Every part of her body felt raw.
“The fact is, we need to end our soldiers if they go…out of line.”
“The organization thanks you for your service—”
Movement flickered in the corner of Valerie’s eye, and she flinched, nearly activating her armor as she grabbed for a blaster at her side.
“Whoa, whoa,” Paulina said, raising up her hands, eyes wide. “Easy. I’m just here to check on you.”
Valerie’s fingers trembled against the blaster, her expression crumpling as her muddied image of a GIW man blurred into the image of her frightened best friend. She lowered the weapon to her lap, resting it upon Phantom’s cape. The flickering edges kissed against her wrist, where the bruises from restraints had faded but reddened scrapes still remained. The cool power of the cape felt like a spring breeze compared to the heat that radiated from her healing wounds.
As if Dan Phantom were still watching over her. A strange and stoic knight.
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not sure if this counts as an AU but.. thinking about the Per Aspera crew as horror game bosses like.. you are wandering through a forested mountain range and you know somethings wrong because the forest shouldn't be this eerily silent, this devoid of life, and then you hear the crash of falling trees and there is a hand that is half your size glowing golden in the night and it is grabbing you and its claws are digging into your flesh and you see the spines running down the golden arm that is far too long as it lifts you over a crater in mountain, over a coiled, serpentine thing with a visage that is not of this world, and if you look closely you can see the shape of a child curled at the centre of the thing, golden hair reflecting the glow of the creature and if you listen closely you can hear her sobbing, 'Don't hurt me, I don't want to do this'. you are sailing through the astral sea when you see an ephemeral, resplendent spelljammer cutting through the starry waters and you rejoice because you have been lost on the seas for so so long, so you board the ship looking for help, supplies, anything, and you are greeted by a blue fire genasi (you wonder, do those even exist? but you can't get off the ship now because where else will you go?) and she tells you she is the captain of this ship but as far as you can tell there is no crew on board, and if she is not appearing right behind you from a trapdoor you've never noticed she is always in the engine room 'fixing the ship' even though the ship seems to be sailing perfectly fine ('Where are we going?' you ask her once and she doesn't even turn to look at you, 'Don't worry about it') and if you are ever so unlucky as to damage the ship in any way, you begin to catch flashes of red and orange out of the corner of your eye, a fire genasi wearing the woman's face who whispers at you with hollow, angry eyes 'Don't you fucking dare hurt my ship'. you are sailing through the astral sea when you see a rotting, decaying spelljammer, so badly damaged it's barely moving although you have to wonder how it's even staying afloat at all, and out of some morbid curiosity you climb on board and the deck of the ship is in no better shape than the hull, the marks of hard-fought battle - scars in the wood from sharp blades and arcane energies, stains of blood and oil splattered about - still fresh but you know time doesn't pass on the astral sea so who knows how long ago this all took place, and as you climb below decks you start to notice the writings on the walls, pieces of parchment nailed to every surface and connected with fraying, rotting threads, or words etched directly into the wood, the deep gouges barely readable, and you start to hear the creaking and clanking of rusted machinery slowly moving about and you turn a corner to see a figure standing in a room facing the wall, slowly scratching yet more of that unintelligible writing into the bones of the ship, and it turns as the rusted dented mechanite stares at you with eyes ablaze and he asks 'Who are you? Where is my crew?' as sparks of arcane lightning begins to arc through the room. you are running through a feywild forest and you know, even without the figure chasing you, that you have made a horrible mistake, you should have known better, should have been more careful, should have kept your impulses in check, and now you are being chased through an unfamiliar forest and the figure, the Hunter pursuing you knows this realm like the back of his hand, knows every tree and shrub and vine that is slithering up to grasp at your ankles, and you glance back desperately to catch any glimpse of your pursuer but there is no pursuer, he has hidden himself with some arcane trick or some innate power or just the knowledge that this realm is his home, and you hear his voice even though you cannot see him as he cries out 'You should not have hurt my family. Prepare to face the Hunter of Hundkiln'
sorry no Vhas yet maybe I'll update with one for him once we get more of his whole deal
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gortash and pre-amnesia abaddon are dominating my brain rn. horrible people in love is so fucking good
technically not in love at this point, i picture this happening closer to the beginning of their alliance. nowhere near trusting each other yet but at least secure enough in each other's dedication to the cause. a playful moment where abaddon refers to gortash as My Lord, putting on airs to act as one of the fancy ladies of the courts he's more accustomed to lately, and him playing right along. coincidentally, the first time they ever actually touched.
something i couldn't include here with how messy this is: i picture abaddon as having some aasimar-like traits, being the child/aspect of a god, and one of their personal quirks is having their skin briefly turn pitch black at the touch of others before slowly fading. so gortash noticing how his lips leave a mark on the back of their hand as he's pulling away and filing that little detail away for later.
(there shouldn't have been a mark, because formal hand kisses typically don't actually involve lip-to-hand contact, but he was being cheeky)
((quickly glanced at one of these pose assets for a general reference))
bonus: i haven't drawn gortash before and i needed to practice, so some quick doodles of the power couple i did before the bigger piece
tyrant-slaver-jackass and his cannibalistic-antichrist-serial killer girlfriend
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