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strawberryspeachy · 4 years

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So when i watched death note in high school it made me curious about real japanese police work. I read about it alot and came to the conclusion that their justice system isnt too great.

Im currently upset that a coworker who i took as a friend - not only disliked me all along - but went as far as to lie about me to get me in trouble. That no one cared to hear my side. That i was fired on the spot. That people turned their back on me immediately. That no one cares.

Well. 17 year old me would have said. But of course. In Japan your guilty until proven innocent. That japanese put on a show but dont truely like most people. That they band together and will go out of their way to avoid any kind of conflict. That they care more about a pretty appearance than solving anything. 17 year old me that only heard and read about Japan knew these things. 17 year old me imagined this cool different country that works because theyre proud of this... performance way that they live. And i was amused by it. All i knew was america and european history. I was so hungry for something different. I was so interested in different people.

Then I went to Japan. I got here and it was too similar to manga. How silly, i thought, those a comics - i didnt actually expect the country to be like those comics. And ive never really been able to place what that made me feel but id grown past this bemusement of different “alien like” people. Theyre just people who live in another country i thought. I dont like america and our norms. I know nothing but america but i dont agree with any of our steriotypes. You cant describe me the way most would try to describe a typical american. So why would people from any other country be different. Im sure theres people like the sterotype - but certainly more not at all like that.

And i got here and i watched the smiles on service workers slowly fade when they thought no one was watching. I watched children put trash where it didnt belong thinking no one was watching. I was girls laugh loudly and run around and yell at their boyfriends. I watched drunk college kids hollar and reak havoc in the city. Not robot people, not obedient children, not, quiet and demure girls listening to the men, not studious students worried about their reputation. Just people. The same people i saw back home.

And so i thought. Its the same. Different history. Varrying values. Same old people - judgmental and watching everyone ready to scold them if they deem it necessary.

But that guilty until prooven innocent thing. The fact that the old way of caring about your reputation is still a solid work practice.

These things. Make me feel like... i guess.... to my dissapointment. Maybe america really is more free...

I dont want that to be true. The us is so full of itself. Just like healthcare. I want universal health care to be a good thing and at very least in japan its not really. Its better. Its more affordable. Maybe their problem is just how much they hate drugs and thats what stops real care.

But. Ive always been a cautious person - i just dont want to get in trouble. But ive never thought id be in a situation i couldnt talk my way out of - because i dont do anything super bad. Maybe sometimes ive pressed the limits - but never outside of... like i drank underage. I tried to get into bars i wasnt old enough for. Ive dodged paying for the train fare. Dumb things. Things that the worse that would happen is i gotta pay it somehow or id get scolded. Drinking under age is against us law but its almost never taken too seriously.

But its occurred to me. Yeah. In japan it is guilty until prooven innocent. I really could have gotten in legal trouble for baseless allegations.

And japan is as racist and people say. Theyre friendly and try to talk to you in english and say nice things. And it doesnt seem like racism to a person from the states. Out racist look at you with digust. They wont touch you. They wont talk to you. They dont want to know about you

But here... it takes the form of a racist parent who grew up in the 50s and knows that theyre not supposed to be racist but still is.

Theyre welcoming and friendly to your face but talk shit behind your back. They ask a bunch of questions like (in america “where are you really from”) they refuse to accept you might actually belong. They constantly want to assert how different you are so instesd of telling you that your different - they ask questions or explain what theyre doing. And if you say ‘yes we also do this’ they react with disbeleif - what? No! You couldnt possibly get this - this is our thing and you are not us! And they constantly ask if you miss your home. Assume that you’re uncomfortable because they are. Also also. Instred of not wanting to touch you here - theyre much more willing to push you out of the way

Theres many mixed race kids here now though. I assume theyll have to do the same thing that happened in America. I havent met any mixed race adults but ive met plenty of white dads.... all trying super hard to assimilate to the point that they walk around talking like robots. Swearing that everything japan is great and they dont miss their home cointries at all. Pretty similar to the immigrants of america from when my mom was a kid.

So i still think at least for japan. Theyre way more similar to the west than they think they are. But these restricting regulations that they live by... really does make the country seem not as free as id ignorantly beleived it was.

It surprised me because their rules are so much like the way my great grandmother talked about stuff. And while were supposed to care... we just dont in the states. Respect your employer? Sure we say we do to their face but talk shit with coworkers. Worry about your reputation? Eh think im a bitch i dont give a fuck whatcha gonna do about it? Nothing thats right. Dont like another person? No one cares. Like that person or dont - it doesnt change anyone elses relationship with them. Make a mistake? Well if your boss fires you - everyone already probably thinks their an asshole cause generally mistakes are just met with some form of dickwaving belittlement. Pretty sure most of us get mad everytime we hear a story about someone getting fired because they posted a picture of them in a bikiki or having fun - most of this generation agrees thats dumb and has to change.

I feel more like an american now than ever. Americans are reluctant to change im told. Yes. I suppose we are. We might not know the rest of the worlds history but we kinda know our own. And as much as ive alwags agreed with the sentiment that cultures are different and thats just the way they want to be.... we used to be these ways but decided it was restrictive and controlling and mentally abusive and fought it...

Ive been reading more about the work culture in japan to figure out how he fuck this went so wrong. Apparently when young japanese people enter the work force, they cant even have friends as distractions outside of work because their boss will move them away from home.

Ive already read that japanese think suffering is good and seniority and witness first hand their preoccupation of appearing busy over actually being productive. Its just this constant performance.

Perhaps i did stress him out to the point of physical pain. I remember having a massive meltdown where i shook and it felt like my brain was melting after i tried so hard to be a good nice person. I did whag people apparently like. I changed myself to just agree with people and be positive and assume the best in everyone. Then my “friend” told me that i was a bad friend because i asked them if they would people drive their friends home so i could to sleep at 4am. And the two things just didnt click. I didnt go to sleep that night. I sat at my desk shaking for the next 5 hours and having flashbacks.

Im talkative. I talk as much as i do here in real life. And i have alot of questions. I talked to him a lot. Made him look not busy. I know he liked talking to me. I know he did. Thats why i got confortable talking more. He was always surprised when i asked him questions about himself but once he started answering he kept talking. Yeah. Its nice to have someone ask you what your thoughts are on topics. What your experiences have been. Did you like those things or not. I know japan it a group think culture - i guess they get there by really draining out ANY idea of individualality. He told me hed never been asked what he likes about himself. In the us were asked that constantly from elementary school “what do you like about yourself. What do you like about your friend. What makes you different?”

It kinda baffles me... questions and thoughts like these are so common in anime.... and obviously anime is popular in japan. Obviously obviously. Im confused how theyre watching these programs often with such deep meanings.... and not taking anything away from them. In the states our tv programs are always being restricted and stuff because they might give us “bad ideas” but they aren’t restricted here and yet... it seems no one takes anything from them

When i visited japan in 2013 i saw a teenage girl in huge heels lose her balance and stomp on a middle aged womans foot. That woman had already been standing like her feet were in pain and she made a face of being in so much pain. The girl rudely didn’t apologize and the older woman said nothing. She smiled through her pain...

And i also complained to my coworker. Not full on complaining. The small ones you make at work when youre not sure of the extent you can go to. At first he held off like the other teachers. But. Then. He started complaining back. It got to me not needing to be the one say an annoyance first. Like i asked how his meeting was. Other people i worked with might leave it ah it was a bit slow but necessary. And he started that way. But instead he started responding to me a succession of statements the slowly crept more toward his real feelings. ‘It was good... we didnt do much... or anything, i just sat and listened and took notes. we dont learn anything, it takes up a lot of time but we have to go. I dont like those meetings. I dont know their pupose... but were told to go so we must’

Whatever. Im just gonna keep rambling and complaining about this cause it sucks and is awful. Contracted woth my company i wasnt allowed to publically critisize japan. I imagine thats why you dont often find many things on the internet complaining. You will literally be unemployable if your name is attached to critisisms of this country.

Where as everyone can come to the states and tell us to our faces how much we suck and how much cooler their countries are. And generally the younger general is just kinda like - ‘you right’ people write articles all the time shit talking the states and we just go ‘ya we deserve that’ we do. Im not saying dont do that... but like... maybe just maybe. Were doing the good thing where were like

Haha call us fat! We are fat. We love us some mcdonalds. Hm.... why though. Actually we need to fix that. Why are people eating so unhealthy? What is the underlying cause of this problem? Lets try to work on that - and then we fight amoungst ourselves.

I like that... i like thay thing we do

In the states you might not want to become a ‘whistleblower’ and in some industrys you might get black listed for something dumb. But at least we talk about it and agree its a problem. In japan no one wants to even admit they have problems.

Know what else i told him. I talked about how were overworked in the states. That our work culture has gotten too similar to japans and we hate it. No one working 80 hour weeks thinks that they should have to do that. Of course i didnt go about it that way. I told him that my friends back home work 80 hour weeks and its unhealthy. That i cant work that much and refuse to. He i imagine counted how many hours he works and laughed and i said - oh haha yea i guess you also work that much. And he looked so much like he wanted to cry about it in the same way my friends back home. But said its natural in japan and that hes gotten used to it. But he definitely didnt mean it as he said it. I told him my friends say that as well. That i think theyre workaholics and i personally cant do it. That when work calls them they always pick up the phone even when they dont want to. But i dont do that. When my job called me as a server id ignore it and call them back later when it was too late for me to be asked to come in and ask them what they wanted.

Maybe to him my stories felt like when i read about students in europe being allowed to not go to school without reprucussions. It made HAVING to go to school evem more annoying. Why cant we choose to take breaks? I heard that place doesnt have homework - meanwhile im given at least 6 hours work a night! Not everyone has to do this? Other places learn things for fun?? They dont have to keep up with standardized exams that dont account for different teachers and school districts?? A 50% in that country isnt a failing grade???

Those were already shitty things but to read about them not bein universal did make having to endure it more upsetting.

Doesnt change that im stoll upset with him for not saying anything to me. Doesnt change that im mad that he made stuff up.

Really me rambling on about this doesnt change my presepective on any of it. Im just bitching

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1nn32dem0n5 · 5 years

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another day in gradschool

I am bored and sick. I have a viral infection that makes my head feel very large, so I blow the rest of the day off and go to the gym. I punch the bag, do my pushups, do my pull-ups and then run on the treadmill, in between these two young, gorgeous, red-cheeked undergrads. One is thick, like a sack of potatoes, but she is still shapely. She runs sprints. The other is small and much more aesthetically pleasing than her counterpart. They both smell nice. She runs at a constant pace, not sprints. I realize both are going faster than me, and I spend a few minutes trying to figure out if this is emasculating. I decide I don’t care since a more pressing issue takes precedence: a smell. The smell is me. Its as foul as it comes since I was wearing already dirty clothes, I was at the end of the workout, and earlier I didn’t wipe with quite enough toilet paper.

I forced myself to not give a fuck. It was not easy. Im sure both of them had assholes and at one time birthed a molten stew of diarrhea. Not to mention the fact that every month their pussies drip with blood for days at a time. Who are they to judge me and my body odor? It's as natural as it gets. The more I thought about it the more I grew to love my foulness and be proud of it. Men aren't meant to be clean creatures, or at least I wasn’t meant to be. Human kind as a whole is dirty. We have to struggle every day with showers, clean clothes, brushing our teeth, makeup, hair and so on and so forth. And for what, just to be clean? Maybe we aren't meant to be clean. It's not natural to struggle so hard to maintain something. If it's natural it should be easy. Like fucking fat chicks.

Who the fuck knows? My thoughts drift often when I run, which is good because it keeps me distracted from how much I hate running. Body odor is one thing, but if I'm going down on a girl and I can smell shit, my cock will instantaneously wilt.

I come to, realize I am still running, and it's barely been 5 minutes. I look outside the window, and it hits me again. I have no clue where I am and how I got here. The fog sets in and for a brief moment I feel as thought my legs will become spaghetti that’s been cooked too long. Im worried that if I fall the two girls will laugh at me, or even worse, be concerned about me and gasp in shock, their faces twisted in horror, as my limp body is thrown backwards by the treadmill, and my face somehow is pinned in between the moving sandpaper-like part and the floor. I wonder if this will make them want to fuck me more or less. I wonder if they will keep contact with me after my face will be all deformed, spend months in the hospital to fix it, then fuck me out of pity, before I marry one of them because clearly I cannot ever do better with my fucked up face. I'll spend the rest of my life fighting off stares from strangers wondering how in the hell did I get that girl.

I wonder if they even notice my presence, or my smell? Maybe they don’t even realize I am here; that I am running next to them.

Who am I kidding? Of course they do. How could anyone not notice me?

ME!

I convince myself that passing out would play to my advantage, and as father Joe Riley once said it, I say it too: "fuck it!". I said it not aloud but in my mind, and I keep running without barely any flinch. If i pass out I'll pass out. If my heart, which was beating roughly 3 times a second, decides to explode in my chest then so fucking be it. I'll die here on this fucking treadmill, next to these young potato faced hoosierettes. Fuck the hoosiers truly. At least the last thing I'll smell is this cute one on the left as she freaks out. Hopefully she touches my face and in the process her boob grazes my body. That would be a good way to go. Maybe she will even give mouth to mouth. Imagine that, having a heart attack with a raging hard on, tenting up proudly, in the middle of a crowded gym. I hope I don’t shit myself. Statistically I will.

A song I love comes on, and it reminds me of something pleasant. I start smiling to myself and I shadow box because i feel like it would give me a more mysterious look; the man bun and torn wife-beater had slipped my mind. I ran and ran like an idiot, bobbing around as the sonorous beats of black widow baby hammered away at my already unhinged eardrum. I almost passed out again when it was time to stop. It took a full 5 minutes to get my heart rate down from 180 to a more regular 100. Then the best thing happened on my way out of the gym. The gods blessed me, since at that exact moment this long-legged tall-girl with the shortest shorts and the most top-shelf ass walks in front of me. I will forever never take another elevator again. The spandex stretched with every step and you could almost make out the patterns on her panties. I knew in this moment that there was a God. I just wasn’t sure why he was being kind to me.

How does one get a girl like that? Just look at her. Her skin was so fair, and those legs stretched far beyond the heights I dared to raise my eyes to out of shame that someone is watching me and sees my uncontrollable lust. I could lay my face on that ass and all my trouble would dissolve away, because what do I care? It's hard to care about anything else when your face is pressed up against an ass as beautiful as this one. The stairs were my personal eternity. As we exited the gym I walked faster to get a side view of her. She was not pretty at all and I don’t even know why I expected otherwise. I've learned that if you want a truly pretty girl, the midwest is not the ideal place to look for them. They do have bodies chiseled out of marble and cornmeal, but almost none have the faces to go with em. NYC is far superior in this category, since rarely have I gone on a night of drinking in downtown and not fallen in love. How could you not? There is so much beauty in new york. And so much hideousness too. In the middle west they hope the tightness and stretchiness of the spandex will be enough to distract you from their potato faces. And they often do. More than once a day I see an ass I'd like to bury myself in, and spend my entire life there. Here was one moment.

I never understood this about myself. The extreme desires and attraction I feel for a woman's ass. Theres so little one can do to it: you can slap it, bite it, grope it, squeeze it and fuck it. There are second order processes like eat off it, draw it, take pictures of it, watch it jiggle, make it jiggle, watch it walk away, or run, or twerk, sneak, squat. And there are so many varieties: the flat ones you can power fuck into Odin, the fat ones you need to manually spread in order to touch cunt with cock, and all the infinity of sizes and angles in between. There is just so much you can do with an ass. Yet somehow, it just doesn’t feel like its enough. The desire is much too strong, almost as if I want to envelop myself in the squishy goodness of a well fed ass and cum all over it until its glistening with ounces and ounces of hot human cum. I want to bite into an ass and eat it. I want to be one with it. How sad it must be for men who are not ass men. The full womaninity of any woman is held up by a tiny piece of flimsy, cute patterned fabric, often embroidered with Victoria logo.

I got home and I facebook stalked this one chick I went to high-school with who made a repulsive post about how she hates working full time because she cant spent enough time with her child. Here she is in a million pictures with her and what I can assume is her offspring, and her husband, and all I can think of is that night we snuck into the food court, blotto - when she was begging me to fuck her. I walked her home and got in bed with her that night. But I didn’t fuck her. Never understood why. Its like sometimes I am a complete fucking idiot. Who gets offered free, nice and young pussy, with legs akimbo, panting, begging for cock and who says says NO? Apparently 18 year old me does. What a broken child I was.

I think about the fat chick I was running next to, because the image of her sturdy thighs and ass is still burned into my lustful mind. I imagine what her pussy must have tasted like while she was crouching on my face. Would her ass cover my entire field of vision? Most likely yes. How horrible it would be if she just decided to hold me down, and shit on my face? I would be less powerless if a horse tried to ass fuck me. Yet still I wonder what her pussy would taste like. Would it be tight? Do thick females have tight pussies? Or is it just fat ones? I contemplate this as I drink the rest of the day, and do nothing else of substance. I write a few pages which I'm pretty sure are shit. People come by and I get stoned with them, but refuse their offer to go to the bars. There is nothing that brings me pleasure anymore. I just want to lay on my couch and die. I want a great big ass to park on my mouth, nose in pussy, as I gasp for air, dying, lungs filled with farts and grool.

Oh what a way to go.

#prose #new writing #new writers on tumblr #new writer #new writers society #excerpt from a story i'll never write #excerpt from a book I'll never write #short story #story #writers on tumblr #writing #writer #writers #excerpts from my life #journal #blog posts #blog #spilled thoughts #spilled ink

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silentasagrave · 7 years

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Freedom

(Part Two of a rp with @scassira-revmore)

(a day or three after leaving Stormwind)

Dragaur made his way off the ship at the small port in Arathi. He glanced behind him at Scassira. He decided to at least pretend he wasn’t extremely angry and upset by making a joke now and then. “Hope you were alright sharing a bunk…I trust I was a perfect gentleman in my sleep. If I was I would be a little surprised though.” He chuckled and hoisted his small bag of things up onto his shoulder.

Scassira scowled at him, her expression tired and grumpy. "I am rigging a fucking hammock on the trip back. How Risri sleeps with you is beyond me. Tossing. Turning. SNORING. Really, Dragaur." She snatched her own bag over her shoulder, shuffling past him and actually stifled a yawn.

"Snoring?! Come on now you are just lying I don't snore...tossing and turning definitely but I usually have a much larger bed to sleep in. " He scowled at her and shook his head. "Whatever...Risri always said I was nice to cuddle with...ya know before I died." He chuckled.

Scassira rolled her eyes as she walked by, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene of the port. "Yes, snoring. And I think you bruised my arm. You can sleep on the planks and I will take the bunk. Or maybe next time find a ship with two bunks. Or I am using your clothes and making a damn hammock."

"Oh calm down...you don't hear me bitching that you drooled all over me, or that you talk and whimper in your sleep. Surprised you aren't a wogen." He shook his head at her again as they made their way past the small village on the coast. "It will be a day or two before we get over to Hillsbrad and Alterac. Faster if we snag some horses."

Scassira turned on him, narrowing her eyes. She was tried. She was nauseous. And she did NOT drool. "You would whimper and talk in your sleep too if you still had the plague of the void within your mind," she spat. Ooh. Tired Scassira is a grumpy Scassira. HUffing a breath, she turned back, heading toward the stables. She made way toward the stable keep, passing a few words here and there, some exasperated and others more hard. But eventually after tossing him a few coins, a stable boy would come out with two saddled horses. "Hmph." she grumbled.

Dragaur shook his head with a quiet growl. "Everyone drools...and I am sorry I don't have some creepy magic bull shit in my head but I have had enough fel magic to make me wanna murder people for no reason...so we all got problems if you wanna play that game." He smiled at the stable boy and gave him another small bag of coins. "Don't worry kid I won't kill you...and someday you will find a lovely lady who doesn't drool on you while you sleep." He turned to her and laughed. as he led the horse a way.

Scassira actually stared at him when he mentioned fel magic. She had no idea, her eyes flickering over his form as moment as she felt a bit of empathy. The stable boy greedily grabbed the coins and tossed him the reigns, scurrying off. Scassira just stared at Drag's bag, coming up behind him and pushing the back of his head like a sister would a brother. "Ass. At least I was not frothing at the mouth." She paused, wrinkling her nose and added, "...yet." She smirked in his direction as she took the reigns of one of the horses.

"Yet is right..." He let his head be pushed easily forward with a small grunt. "As for me being an ass...that is probably true. A well muscled finely sculpted ass though." He smirked and led the horse out of the small village and mounted up. "So ready to tangle with or avoid some undead...fortunately I have a lot of practice butchering Sylvanas' freaks...I killed a bunch on the isles. It was quite fun."

Scassira looked down to said ass and snorted a noise before continuing to walk forward. "Mm, I have experience with more than I care to honestly admit. Let's go tango with some deaders." She lifted a brow, peering at him before slinging her satchel over the horse and attaching it. Scassira pulled herself up swiftly, and as she seated herself atop the horse, she'd look like some regal, pale queen, clearly knowing well how to ride.

He looked over at her with a smirk and a shake of his head. "Don't pretend like you don't like what you see even if you are with someone...you can still appreciate someone as good looking as me." He tipped his head back and laughed. "Jeez even I had a hard time saying that one..." He looked her over with a grin as he had the horse trot forward. "Don't you look fancy on a horse...hopefully you ride as good as you can sit pretty in a saddle."

"Wow, Dragaur. Conceited much?" She lofted a brow, narrowing her gaze at him. "That being said, you must think I am pretty decent looking. A shame, really. Why are we even discussing this? Your lover is back home mourning your death. You stop that." She then felt the contagious pull of his laugh, her pristine features pulling into a laugh of her own. "Gods, you kill me." With that, she snapped her teeth at him in a mock gnashing before clicking her tongue and tugging the reins, commanding the horse in motion and canting off.

He scoffed and shook his head as he continued on with his horse. “She’s better off with me dead anyway…especially if my father is alive.” He looked over at her and nodded. “Of course you are decent looking…you have pretty eyes and lovely skin even if it’s a bit beat up but so is mine so I don’t care. So what am I supposed to stop…I have hardly flirted at all hell if I wanted to make a move you lying next to me in a small bed would have been the time.”

Scassira just laughed as she rode, her form perfect and clearly experienced. She looked at him as she followed close to his own steed. "Well that is kind of you to say, but you'd have really been dead had you made a move on me. I am a faithful woman, Dragaur." She smirked at him, a twinkle in her gaze as she shot him a grin. "Not an easy shell to crack. I am loyal to a tee-- you will see that in due time, I am certain."

He rolled his eyes at her. “Yes yes...I’m so afraid by what might happen if I grabbed your ass. I don’t do that anyway if I really wanted you to like me I would be much more charming, kind, humble…ish” He directed them into the west and glanced over at her. “I don’t take advantage of women…there’s no fun in an unwilling participant…same reason I wouldn’t pay for one. “

That made the woman chuckle as she grinned over at him as their bodies jarred along atop the horses. "Ish?" She nodded her head as she continued to follow up, the wind whipping at her hair. "Fair enough, Dragaur. Why is it every conversation we have always leads back to this?" She lifted a brow, looking at the back of his head as she rode behind him, calling out over the horse's beating hooves along the ground.

"Sexual tension." he answered matter of factly. He looked over at her with a shrug. "If we got together it would either be great and we would have no problems after that or it would be horrible and we wouldn't wanna see each other again. "I'm just guessing at the outcomes...could be horrible and we would laugh about it."

That made a brow loft, her lip quirk, and her head cant to the side. "Huh.." she thought aloud. "Suppose so. I would say horrible and we'd laugh about and never speak of it again. But that won’t ever happen. So you can forget it. You’re lucky I barely tolerate you." She grinned, kicking the horse around a corner and keeping up.

"Horrible cause of you maybe...I've never had a complaint" He looked at her and shook his head. "Whatever you are saying about my performance you can just keep it to yourself alright...I might act like a jerk but I'm a very generous when it comes to that stuff." He smirked. “Never say never.”

Scassira's cheeks actually went red at that and she decided to speak no more on the subject, clearly becoming uncomfortable. She'd only ever been forced when she was a child, though never actually... well. Enjoyed it with another. That’s when her mind wandered to Elstine... A throat clear ensued and she swiftly changed the subject. "So where are we headed?"

He looked over at her and rose an eyebrow. He went to speak then closed his mouth not really sure how to proceed he had apparently touched a sore spot somehow which he wasn’t sure was possible with her. “We are going into the foothills of Alterac there is a cabin in the woods there…might be falling down now…not far from there is a hill with a large tree…he’s buried there. The tree is marked.”

"He's buried there. I hope you are right." She eyed the back of his head as they continued forward. "What is your real name?" An interesting question, for she remembered from a conversation a while back, that Dragaur was not his name, and with her own snooping around, though she never did get the full gist.

He glanced at her and grunted quietly. "Same as his...Jackson Graves. The tombstone has the name on it...no one has ever caught on though really. I tell them it's my grave and I paid for it but they just think I'm an idiot...really they are the idiots. Morons can't tell a joke from what is actual truth and fact...If I wanted to be sarcastic I would tell them it was their grave after I bury them there...fucking morons. Actually that isn't sarcasm...I would bury them there." He scowled and glanced over at her with a shrug.

She nodded her head slowly as she looked at him. "You know, it's funny. I thought that was your name the moment I read that stone and you said it was yours." She chuckled dryly, the horse's jarring only making it sound more odd than it was. She lofted a brow at his sudden change in demeanor, her hands moving along the reigns and kicking her steed forward to be beside him. She reached for his own reigns, attempting to slow the horses down as she looked him over. If successful, they would both be paused, chocolate hues lingering on his face. "Why are we were really?"

He looked down at her hands on his reins and pursed his lips then looked back up at her with a shake of his head. "He's supposed to be dead...not alive, not undead, but dead. I killed him he made my life shit. Took me from my mother, I never knew my sister, gave me a shitty half brother who, wherever he is skulking, likes to see me suffer... instead of growing up with a family I got to be a criminal...I'm here to find his body and if the body is not there." He paused and took the reins back. "I'm going to hunt him down and chop him to pieces so that even the most determined of necromancers won't be able to bring him back." He started to ride again.

She would be lying if she said she was surprised by his answer or his reaction, though she fully expected it. When he snatched the reins back, Scassira nodded firmly. “Fair enough. I can respect that.” She rolled her shoulders in a shrug before kicking her own horse into gear once more.

(a day or so later, evening.) They had managed to avoid most all undead as they slipped northwest towards the Alterac Mountains. He looked over at her and then at the treeline not far away. "If the cabin is still there we can stay there tonight...it's fairly well hidden...might be an old shovel there too I can use that.." He directed the horse towards the treeline as he glanced around to get his bearings.

Scassira stifled a yawn. The day had been long and tedious of riding and her ass hurt. She wrinkled her nose, adjusting on the saddle. "Sounds great. I am so not use to riding a horse days on end, let me tell you." She shifting again, leaning forward as she tried to get her bottom a bit of relief. She looked over at him then laughed, her head shaking. "Don't even fucking laugh. When I ride, it's only for hours at a time. Not days."

He grunted quietly and shook his head. "Poor baby...don't join the military it's either ride everywhere or march everywhere. Still maybe we should have gotten a couple gryphons for this." He spotted something further in the forest just where he expected it to be. The cabin was indeed run down but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. The trees protected it from a lot of the weather. And the roof and walls were at least in one piece. "There it is...this was one of my father's many hideouts he used it after the scourge took Lordaeron...I tracked him down here not long after I left Lordaeron." He pulled the horse up to the cabin and hopped off before walking over to the door and drawing a dagger. The door opened with a slight shove...inside was dark and musty. "Looks empty...I've slept in worse places."

She wrinkled her nose again and even went so far as reaching her hand around to rub at her sore ass. "Gods above." She was not accustomed to complaining, but damn. She wasn't sure she'd be able to sit for a while. She thought of Elstine and barked out a laugh, her head shaking as she seemed to relive a memory that caused quite a bit of amusement. "Believe me, I have no interest in joining the military."

Seeing the cabin in the clearing, she would follow him quietly, her complaining finally ceased. She never complained. The woman was allowed to from time to time she decided. Hopping off the horse, she actually winced as she stretched her muscles. "I certainly have slept in worse."

Dragaur growled as he looked around inside the cabin and then stepped inside. It was a simple one room building a dusty bed with a chest at the foot of the bed on one end of the cabin and the other had a small stove next to it was a table with two chairs. The chairs were knocked over and with the light spilling in from the doorway a large brown stain could be seen near the table and a large brown trail of blood dried long ago leading to door the that had soaked into the wood. He looked over his shoulder at the woman and shook her head slightly. “No I can see you wouldn’t be fit for it…only reason I was was because living with my father was worse than the military. So I joined up when I was still young…he let me go said it would be good for me since he had been in the military…I think once he decided it was making me soft though he killed the girl I was gonna settle down with.” He paused and turned to step fully inside the darkness of the cabin. “Or had my psycho brother do it.”

"I wouldn't be... fit for it." She snorted again as she brought her hand up to tug a raven lock from her brow. She followed him into the building, listening as he spoke. She eyed the small area over, her chocolate hues lingering on the dusty, dirty area before settling on the blood stains. She wandered over and squatted down along the ground, her hand coming out to press lightly along the wooden planks. "Well, either way... you are who you are because of the way shit panned out for you. No sense in dwelling now." She looked over at him, offering a firm nod.

He looked down at what she was doing and pulled his mask and hood off. “Sadly I agree with you...I probably wouldn’t have lived through the scourge, the worgen, the horde, the shipwreck...and countless illegal activities if he hadn’t made me what I was. Took me a long time to care about anything else except survival.” He bit his lip and looked outside. “Sun is goin’ down...We’ll head out at dawn to dig him up...or to find nothing. Either way We can start heading home tomorrow.”

@risrielthron

#Story

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mirkstrolls · 7 years

Text

[LOG] dumpster days pt 1/3

[Chatlogs from over on #BWIC: the conversations that occur as Widsth Orpheo (inspiredTalesmith) pisses off a history gang and spends an afternoon trying to avoid their very physical ire. Takes place over a good seven hours -- I’ve trimmed out most of the irrelevant dialogue, so if you want to read Hadean and Emerel threatening each other, this is not the place for that.

Also starring Pheres Dysseu (refiningSpacetime), Emerel Victis (meganeNarcissus), Hadean Dauths (invertedDissident), Ullane Wistim (journeyingMedic), and Sielan Reisov (pivotalPersuasion).

In this issue: shaming Pheres for his interest in troll Twilight, a bad limerick, Emerel offers to help, Ullane realizes that Widsth does this too often.]

RS: | I will Give Sixty Beetles to Whoever Presents Me with Something Entertaining | RS: | Because I am Afraid I am About to Expire from Boredom |

IT: I am about to lose ConneCtion to the internet IT: But it may interest thee to know, Sir Dysseu, that I didst just aCCidentally inCur the wrath of most of the West Alpine SeCtor HistoriCal SoCiety IT: 'Tis too long a tale to relate at the moment, but it doth involve a Certain private diary, the Cerulean Dynasty's fashion for pierCing deliCate plaCes IT: And a great many sCandalized historians who are now defaming my honest reputation!!! IT: ...They wish to defame me, in faCt, with pitChforks IT: Adieu!

RS: | | | RS: | Well | ! | As Always | RS: | Orpheo Wins | =:) |

MN: wEll orphEos fuckEd MN: sucks to bE you pal

ID: hahaha what.

MN: looks likE hE got a hold of somEonEs diary and blastEd that shit MN: hE might not bE aliVE now MN: and by that .I. mEan hEs probably still running knowing pissEd off bluEs MN: oh man this is grEat

ID: ahahah that's pretty wild. run nerd, spread the awful awful truth.

MN: hE fights the good fight haha

ID: the fight that ancient highbloods are huge pervs. who could have seen it coming.

MN: .I. for onE am just shockEd

ID: all those historians so crushed. by the knowledge their idols were packing some extra metal.

MN: .I.m not that crushEd MN: .I. actually am a historian MN: this is prEtty normal by now

ID: you are, huh. do you have a specialty or are you just a well rounded nerd. ID: why are there so many nerds in this chatroom.

MN: .I.m thE most wEll roundEd nErd MN: but nah MN: military history

ID: well at least you chose an interesting part to be a nerd about.

MN: Exactly MN: .I. cant gEt Enough of this shit MN: EVEr bEEn to thE rEEnactmEnt fair MN: wE haVE a big fight ring aftEr the battlE rEplays arE donE MN: somEtimEs pEoplE diE MN: but thE prizEs arE grEat

ID: uh no because i have no idea where the fuck to find one of those. but battle replays sound fun. ID: unless you're on the side that loses i guess.

MN: which to bE fair isnt that diffErEnt from anything ElsE pEoplE haVE bEEn doing forEVEr but you know MN: thE closEst onE is outsidE cascara MN: chEck it out somEtimE .I. say bEcausE thE nExt fairE is nExt wEEk

ID: uh cascara. will make a note of it. and figure out where the fuck that is.

MN: hErE MN: Sent hErEsamap.png

[MN and ID threaten each other in a vaguely pitch-flirty manner and challenge each other to a duel at the historical fair. JM says she’s seen too many undead for her taste.]

RS: | But | Have You Seem any Sparkling White Ones | like in the Films | JM | ? | Inquiring Minds wish to Know | =:P |

MN: wE dont EVEn takE chancEs and somEonE on staff burns thE dEad

JM: Sound practice JM: Those films are made by idiots who deserve to be drained of blood. JM: No. Thankfully.

ID: what movies.

JM: You'll be sorry you asked. JM: I feel RS is going to answer.

MN: sEE .PHERES.I.m not thE only onE who kEEps tElling you thosE moViEs suck

JM: They are awful JM: and stupid JM: and inaccurate

RS: / someone else do the title / I'm with a customer / =:( /

ID: i no longer care what movie it is. since it apparently sucks.

RS: / and they are perfectly fine / my sympathies for your lack of taste / =:) / both of yours /

JM: No self-respecting drinker would be so soppy

MN: look .I.m going to shortEn thE titlE MN: and call it MN: thE film in which a drinkEr starEs at a girl whilE shE slEEps and shE is okay with it

JM: Especially not over such a pathetic protagonist JM: Exactly JM: It is disgusting JM: all the characterization is bad JM: terrible quadrant dynamics

MN: thE wErEfiEnds wErE hot as hEll and thats thE bEst part of the moViE

RS: / it's meant to emphasize the pitiful nature of their relationship / for heaven's sake /

JM: There's pitiful JM: And there's downright obnoxious

MN: .PHERES. no it wasnt

JM: Also it was disturbing JM: And crossed boundaries

IT: Dysseu, art thou aCtually defending that film

JM: Unfortunately

ID: if any drinker was staring at me while i slept. i'd gut them.

MN: holy shit hEs still aliVE

ID: for now.

IT: I am on the run for my life IT: And I must needs stop

JM: wait

IT: to KINKSHAME thee

JM: Ha

MN: haha is thE cErulEan chaptEr still aftEr you

IT: ...Ye muses, no wonder thou didst think RiCCin attraCtive IT: 'Tis the fangs, is it not????

MN: its thou thought dudE

JM: Some people are into that

RS: / oh / go back to reading your filthy eulogies / orpheo / hahaaaa / RS: | NO |

JM: It's okay RS JM: We accept you

ID: ahahahahah

JM: But not your movie taste JM: ...Orpheo? [edited] JM: Widsth Orpheo?

IT: 'Tis I, Orphep

JM: Shut

MN: .I. loVE you man but your moViE tastEs suck and .I. will not stand by whilE thEy hurt you

IT: )That was a humorous untruth but yes, that is my name)

JM: You may not remember me

MN: orphEo holy shit arE you typing whilE you run

JM: But I treated you

IT: jog wouldst be more aCCurate henCe my deteriorating quirk IT: !!!!!!

ID: how long until pheres asks emerel to dress up like the main character though.

IT: MediC Wistim??

JM: Ah JM: Yes

MN: oh my god MN: hadEan you haVE .NO IDEA.

JM: HaJM: Wait has he done that

ID: ahahahah are you serious.

MN: hE kEEps trying to put .ME. into thE drinkEr aEsthEtic box

JM: That's amazing

IT: hello there dear lady!! IT: also HAS HE DONE THAT

ID: do you have to say lines.

JM: Oh please JM: I hope so

IT: I NEED CONFIRMATION, MN

JM: "I'm not good for you, Bellah"

MN: .NO I REFUSE.

JM: You mean JM: He has tried

MN: .I WILL NOT DRESS UP AS TROLL EDWARD CULLEN.

ID: ahahahahah i'm dying.

IT: :O :O :O

MN: thats classifiEd

JM: This is amazing

IT: >:D

ID: does he want you to bite him and shit.

MN: also classifiEd

ID: so definitely yes.

IT: ye gods

MN: .I. will not confirm or dEny MN: on a public chat

JM: In the absence of proof JM: I will assume yes

MN: hEy orphEo arE you anywhErE nEar cascara

IT: this materisl doth beg a limeriCk

JM: Do it JM: It can only make it better JM: To record it forever JM: To testify Pheres's mistakes

MN: bEcausE if you arE .I. might bE ablE to swing by and hElp you out MN: .I. know a fEw guys from thE cErulEan branch

JM: Please help him I had to put him back together not too long ago JM: Don't let my work go to waste

IT: At the request of the lovely Ullane IT: There onCe was a troll called pher IT: his pref'renCes were quite clear IT: he told his mate "bite me, IT: and perhaps, glow slightly?" IT: on the whole 'twas rather queer IT: afaojf pardon me a momeny

MN: amazing MN: .I. haVE no idEa how you camE up with that on thE run MN: but good job

JM: edhjckkkkkkk I slipped and fell off my seat JM: My horn hit the keyboard JM: Thanks to my laughter

MN: oh .MY. god

ID: hahah lovely. almost brings a tear to my eye, 8/10.

JM: The art of our time

ID: i mean i thought that shit was ancient art. isn't art these days memes.

JM: Think, ID JM: It incorporated modern media JM: Like the dreadful film JM: Ancient form, modern subject

ID: got me there i guess.

JM: Score

#refiningspacetime #havesomefantrolls #cloudbattrolls #rebatrolls #widsth rp #widsth #bad wiggler isolation creche #pesterlogs #...kinda?#pheres dysseu #emerel victis #hadean dauths #ullane wistim #ic #so sorry if you're on mobile and the cuts don't work #dumpster days #mirkstrolls rp

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