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holocene-sims · 3 months

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next // previous

august 16, 2021 11:00 p.m. grandma ong's house

there’s a strangeness to a quiet enclave in a bustling metropolis, unexpected in the same manner as grant and henry’s long, unbroken brotherhood. nothing about the baseline rustle of neighbors carrying in paper grocery sacks and kids kicking a soccer ball resembles the eternal merry-go-round of life–max-capacity subway cars, clueless and loud tourists, and locals who drift through their day–just down the road. and yet above this neighborhood–and the entire sprawling city–hangs a common thread, a bluish hazy night sky.

“that was wild,” henry says, suppressed laughter bursting forth from deep in his chest, “all day everyone’s defaulted to speaking english because, well, look at you, and you even had me fooled. i actually forgot you kind of speak basic korean."

“the inner machinations of my mind are an enigma.”

henry rolls his eyes dramatically but in the same split second, throws an arm around grant’s shoulders.

“i was afraid that soup was going to fly out of your mouth.” grant returns the gesture, though it requires him to lean down so as to not smother henry’s face instead. “too close for comfort.”

“well, in my defense, i was not expecting you to reply to my grandma asking me, “daehyun, i haven’t seen your friend since your wedding. how did you meet again?”

grant shrugs. “we met on a playground twenty-four years ago.”

“on my very first weekend as a resident of the semi-good ol’ US of A. in the opposite situation. i remember being so pissed that my parents made me go out to ‘make friends’ that weekend. not moving, mind you, but making friends. i guess they were psychics, though, because apparently, it didn’t bother you that i didn’t speak your language for at least a couple weeks.”

“people say i could talk to a wall.”

henry laughs again. “you could. you’re very chatty.”

“did it bother you that i wrote you some really, really, really shitty letters in korean in the early days based on online translations i found?”

“no, that was sweet.” no question about it–the joy in henry’s eyes is determined. “they were definitely horrendous, but it’s the thought that counted. you could do better now. oh, and i think i still have all those letters. i should. i did box them up when i moved out of my parents’ house.”

they were, all things considered, never very much alike, beyond the fact they both liked cats but weren’t allowed to have any. henry’s mom was allergic, but grant’s parents despised pets. otherwise, they were polar opposites. grant always liked math and science, wanted to work with airplanes, and preferred to spend his free time with others playing tabletop RPGs and computer games; henry always liked art and history, wanted to be a photographer, and preferred to be left alone to his vintage film camera and pottery. grant’s parents raged when he selected aviation over medicine; henry’s parents and grandparents, all artists, were delighted by his dreams of photography. moreover, grant selectively speaks his mind, while henry rarely minces words.

and still–

the shrill honk of a car off in the distance disturbs grant’s thoughts.

“you really could talk to a wall, but hey, why did you approach me on the swing set that day? you were already busy hanging out with your sisters. and your cousins. why me?”

and still, the two have fused into one. the world turned upside down; grant paints these days, henry has long been a willing dungeons and dragons player, and separation from one another is like losing half your body. if henry walked away now–ended this messy half-hug early–grant would turn to ash.

“well,” grant begins, drawing out the suspense with an exaggerated sigh, “first of all...”

#ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #sims 4 story #sims 4 storytelling #simblr #hlcn: everything the stars promised #holocene.docx #holocene.png #hlcn: grant #hlcn: henry #it's been a WHILE since i've done a text-based update on this story so i apologize if the tone is off at all #then again this story has undergone quite a few stylistic changes and there's nothing wrong with that #btw i haven't even written anything outside of academic papers in so long i just have not had the spark or energy for a long time #so i'm kind of proud of this bc it took more effort than usual #wow i miss creative writing being 100% instinctual to me jdsfdsklfds burnout is so real y'all and it's got HANDSSSS #insert a NONE OF THIS IS ABOUT THIS PARTICULAR MOMENT IT'S ABOUT THEIR WHOLE FRIENDSHIP comment #hehehehe i love setting up future posts :3 i love foreshadowing :3 #also yes we wait to find out the answer to that last question :) but it's coming #aaaaand we will find out more about henry i promise this isn't it

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doodlebug-aboo · 5 months

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nobody in the world is funnier than zac oyama and i mean that wholly and truly

#nothing in particular caused this i just say this after everything he does #nobody is doing it like he does #dropout #zac oyama

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saintprivateer · 10 months

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posty by himself for now but hello again im drawing sky ship things!!

#vash the stampede #Perfect Blue by Softcult is just cementing it really!!!#that song is in my lungs #Softcult girl vash real to ME #trimax spoilers beyond these tags!!#emilio is really devastating me in a particular way..#his design and pitch being so sillyvillain. but then it’s like a goob situation where the bowler hat man is the little guy who was your #little buddy!! he was a buddy!!!!#and you used to know him as a little buddy. and you haven’t seen him in years and years. and now he’s wrinkled and making his pain violent #and nothing can prepare you for the day you have to incapacitate him and beg him to endure his pain #last time you saw him he was trying to make something beautiful. and NOW #he’s unrecognizable to everyone but you and he’s made something terrible and wants to die. and he’s very scared of you. and of everything #and there is nothing you can say or do. I FELT vash thinking about that all recovery period. MAN.#ANYWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#trigun #trimax #trigun maximum #sketchies #saintprivateerart #saintprivateer #alt text

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jvnejv · 3 months

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how to be me

be scared.

all the time.

if you're already scared then congrats! you are literally me

#junecore #who else up and scared of everything and nothing in particular

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ask-sasha-nein · 1 year

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Greetings, Mr. Nein.

Ever since I heard about the Psychonauts as a child, I've always been excited to see you and Ms. Vodello on the screen of my TV. You are one of my biggest, if not even number 1, idol. And even writing to you feels like an exciting moment for me! You always meant so much for me, and even made me begin training my psychic powers. I wish that someday, I'll grow up to be a succesful Psychonaut, just like you are.

But to make this an ask and not a ramble, I have only two question.

Which place is the best to start if you have it, let's say, far from Whispering Rock Summer Camp. Are any other psychic camps you know about?

Thanks in advance for your reply and I hope you're having a good day and if you aren't, than all I can say is that I hope my message made your day atleast a bit better! :)

Sincerely

Kay O.

#psychonauts #sasha nein #this is hopefully making it a little obvious that we're only focusing on the first game here #given the time period it makes much more sense for the psychonauts to have formed as essentially a comically successful version of mkultra #saying nothing in particular about our upload time shhh. ask blog efficiency is a young man's game #a young unemployed man #what i'm saying is we're working on it just like we are everything else in the world #and we're thanking you for the patience

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strangerays · 1 year

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novel introduction: Nothing in Particular and Everything

[image ID: A girl in a yellow rain jacket stands over a cliff face with her arms outstretched. Blue waves twist below. Greenery hangs over the cliffs.]

[text ID under the cut!]

started: February 2021

stage: 3rd draft

pov: first person, past tense

tags: #nip: inspo, #nothing in particular and everything

Ask to be +/- from the tag list if that is something you would like!

@words-after-midnight @thesorcerersapprentice

[text ID: There is a cliff at the edge of Point Blink where kids twist into the air and throw dust to the vortexing waves; they shoot past eroded caves filled with old bird nests that fly up like slots in a mausoleum. A lighthouse with a jammed bell leers over the expanse of heat lightning reflections. Metal gargles against stone in storm weather, warning us all of childish dares. I was a lighthouse: lived in by sailors, travelers, and strangers; pale stone tall and strong against a maelstrom of salt and rock. Moon shells speckled my base, crushed or buried. Clouds passed over the moon, and I opened my eye to cast sickly yellow light over the waves as they smoothed the footprints of my friends, and of Dad, and of me. Point Blink has stood for decades, but I will stand alone for many more, flickering against all the stars, waiting for those I love to return to harbor.]

Synopsis -

Ever since her best friend left Point Blink, Ray hasn’t felt the same. Now that Lonan is away at college, her friend group feels more distant than ever. Ray struggles to hold them together.

Photography is Ray’s passion. Memories with her friends have helped her create cover her bedroom walls. It’s her senior year, as well as the last school photography club trip she’ll ever be a part of. When Ray is paired with new girl Jude - who is determined to find her own way in Point Blink - they stumble on an abandoned fire tower in the forest. As the girls explore its mysterious contents, an act of arson threatens their lives.

Over the course of the winter, the girls spend afternoons in a dark room and build a profile for the arsonist – as well as a strong friendship. But as they delve deeper into Point Blink’s history, secrets surface within Ray too. Her mental health starts to decline, as well as her obsession with resolving her friendships. If she is ever to resolve the world she loves, she must care for herself.

Excerpts -

[text ID: I was a firm believer that the best art is created when the artist is lonely, angry, or depressed. The summer my best friend caught his train out of Point Blink, I was surprised to find that I became none of these things. We buried a time capsule beneath Sugarfell’s soaring pines and painted his bedroom walls a calm cerulean. We snuck out of house at nighttime to swim and went on a road trip to see our favorite band in concert. All my most colorful memories in Point Blink were unplanned in the beginning.]

[text ID: As it is, Lonan has always been a year older and a grade ahead of me. As I entered my senior year of high school, he entered his freshman year of college. It felt like we were miles apart. It felt like he was going to disappear. Together, we stared across the pink beach. A piper toothed the drowned shore for beetles. Primordial fire reeds combed rays of golden sun to fine sparkles. Lonan never left the shore, just blinked slowly while pockets of young horseshoe crabs chased each other into a swirl of murky blue. I could never resist the water. Often I spread my arms wide, walked barefoot along the rock wall trailing away from the beach into the water. Lonan only watched me from the sand – smaller and smaller and smaller. Now I tried to focus on the melodic thrill of the waves, but a cold headache was starting in my forehead. Sometimes I think that if I didn’t put so much effort into my friendships, I might not be so angry all the time.]

[text ID: I knew Lonan would never give up, because he was a rebel and I was quiet. He was my focal point. Point Blink a gauge built on magenta sea glass – and I had a third eye, primal in the growing.]

[text ID: The truth was this: time was fiction to me. When I lifted my camera up, saw the world as more beautiful than it was, made it mine for just a moment in time – the trees richer, the waves more childlike in their frothing – none of it stayed the same. When birds called my name over the burst of a wave onto the cliffs. When storms send shadows to dance across the bluff faces. My most purple imagination couldn’t convince me everything was going to be okay – my best friend was gone. All of these falling pieces of my world were stark reminders that Lonan Herrings was gone for what seemed like an indefinite time. Because once people find what they want, they never stop chasing it.I tried to hold a moment forever, but time isn’t fiction – it’s an hourglass. Lately, my life had felt more like a rusted compass with a broken face.]

[text ID: Where the familiar world of oaks met the dusty clearing, a graffitied entrance sign barely hid a girl. Had it not been for the bright blue hat she wore with the number twelve stitched on front, I might have missed her altogether. She closed her eyes and tilted her face up to the sun. Her lips curved to a satisfied grin as the sun highlighted her round cheeks a smooth sienna. She seemed truly content and stayed that way – forgot about the rest of us, even me.]

[text ID: I suppose – in many ways – I didn’t talk to anyone about Lonan. Not about school, either. About my friends, about the headaches I kept getting every night, about how I’d lost my appetite completely last week.

“My best friend and I used to come down here a lot.”

Jude’s smile was small. “When was the last time.”

“He’s away for college right now.”

Her smile fell. “Oh. That’s why you didn’t want me to tag along with you.”

I swallowed.

“That’s why you wanted to come down here on your own, isn’t it?”

Her arm brushed mine and it was so warm. It reminded me of the safe feeling I got whenever Florian hugged me.

A breeze trickled through the trees we’d come from and cascaded faint sparkles across the water, feathered the waves away from the shore. Briefly, the gray clouds pulled apart the fog, and pale sunlight touched Jude’s cheeks, drawing a smile from her lips. It seemed that, even in the darkest moments, she managed to find something to love. It made me jealous.

Her eyes were closed. “At least you can still watch the sun rise.”]

[text ID: Point Blink was like a sponge – it inhaled and exhaled water. Soaked up all rain and laughter, cursing and screaming. Rotting at the core. Sometimes I imagined Sugarfell might drink up all of that water, fold over itself like a map, and all those memories would surface from the ground with new bodies. Hands, the sort that I dreamed of appearing from underneath my bed. The hands of something that is supposed to be forgotten. Point Blink rarely exhaled. It just held its breath. Jude wasn’t afraid of Point Blink. She wasn’t afraid to live in a place where the people slogged from shore to shore, sunburned and bored. She wasn’t afraid to be alone in a place where the other kids grew up without her. She wasn’t afraid to sing as she walked up the beach and into the trees.

[text ID: “Are you crying?” he asked.

I hugged myself tight. “No.”

Lonan wasn’t totally convinced, because he tilted his head and stared at me with his green-blue eyes for a long time. “You were about to.”

Lonan leaned into my shoulder. For a moment, I thought he might have been crying since he was the sort of person who cried whenever other people cried. Sometimes I think he is the rarest type of person in the world. I wished I could feel everything the way he did.

But he wasn’t crying – he was just resting against me. He was never going to be taller than me, so his head fit onto my shoulder perfectly. He could stay there for all of eternity if he wanted to.

And suddenly, all that darkness and thick air didn’t hang so heavy over me.]

[text ID: Lonan came to me all at once: we were dissolved into black. I tried running to the opposite side of the fire tower, but then there was no ground beneath me. We must not have been that far up, because it didn’t take long for the rest of the tower to collapse beneath us. There was something soft underneath me – my bag or Jude’s arm. I could not see the sky – then light exploded from the veil we were trapped in. Jude’s hand found mine. She was shouting. I couldn’t tell what she was saying. I dragged myself through the grass, now pasty with smoke, infiltrating my throat, my eyes, my head – everything. It softened the world, made it easier to forget, but no easier to breathe. Jude screamed – a sound I never should have heard – and it brought hot tears to my eyes. Distantly, someone else screamed. It might have been me, but I wasn’t sure. Sirens wailed somewhere. We never heard many of them in Point Blink. I smelled of salt and smoke. What a fool I’d been to believe it possible I could carry on without my best friends, and what a fool Jude had been to think she could replace them.]

If you’re all the way down here, thanks for reading! I sometimes post snippets from the book as I write under the tag #nothing in particular and everything

#i have so much love left for this story but not the time to write it #updates probably won't happen too often #but i want to start posting more smaller snippets from time to time!#i love these characters a lot and i want to finish this third draft #it's just such a comfort #<3 #ray and lonan's friendship is so SOFT #agh #maybe ill post some more excerpts from their chapters next!!#my writing #nothing in particular and everything #creative writing #original story #writing #author

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digital999placebo · 2 months

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my dad when you don’t put in the dishes correctly in the dishwasher (he has an exact system that must be used also applicable when unloading and placing it):

#lmaoo my brother and I used to get a lot of shit from one of his girlfriends for never picking our plates off the table or doing the dishes #no ma’am it’s not bc we’re lazy good for nothings it’s bc our dad will literally rewash everything if it isn’t done in a particular that #no one but him can do even if we know exactly how he wants it in his head he’s the only one allowed to touch the dishwasher and dishes

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sleepyheadgallavich · 22 days

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shuffle your ‘On Repeat’ playlist and list the first 10 songs that play, then tag 10 people

tagged by @mickittotheman 🖤🫶

( i also took a screen shot b/c lazy lol. its more than 10 songs but whatever)

the top 2 are from being literally on repeat while making a gif set for like 3 hours lmfao

tagging @iansw0rld @heymrspatel @mybrainismelted @callivich @whatthebodygraspsnot @mickeym4ndy @iandarling @samantitheos @bibeantransbean @krysmiss only if you feel like it

#this does not reflect that for the last 48 hours I've been listening to pretty much nothing but Deftones #i get into my moods #but its mostly rock/metal #some indie/pop with the occasional splattering of a particular country artist #i listen to everything though lol #ft ethan cutkosky aka white boy carl lmfao

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vaguely-concerned · 2 years

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thinking about how augustine puts all the blame for what happened to alfred on cristabel and by extension mercy, because if he didn’t direct all his anger that way he’d have to be angry with john......... and even, most painfully and fraught of all, with alfred himself. and that is so deeply incompatible both with his devotion and loyalty and love and with his immense eternal-life-long guilt. (it somehow feels like there’s something alike here to the dynamic that happened between harrow and gideon after the suicide of harrow’s parents to me -- the trauma-weight shifting blame and guilt and responsibility around to wherever will hold it when it’s too painful to look at straight on -- though I can’t actually explain it properly yet, and in that situation there wasn’t also a notorious deific gaslighter involved to intentionally muddy things up even further over centuries lmao). augustine is definitely not a reliable narrator of what happened back then because of all of this, but notably mercy never really defends cristabel against this particular accusation of being the instigator of the suicide pact either, for all that she clearly loved her immeasurably and will fiercely defend her against any other criticism. so it appears they’re more or less in agreement about what happened back then, they only differ in what they think it means? I don’t know honestly haha I have only Vibes here and from the outside it’s of course easier to spot that at the end of the day the real blame lies with john and the system of empire he set up around him anyway.

there’s also a really interesting contrast between mercy and augustine in how they relate to their cavaliers in the now -- mercy sort of keeps cristabel alive, she keeps bringing her up in conversation, makes idle observations about what she might think of things; to her cristabel seems to be very much still present even in her absence. meanwhile augustine, during the divine threesome dinner party (I love these books), describes being prompted to talk more about alfred and what happened back then as ‘oh very well, then, just dig him back up’, like he wants to at least let him rest in peace, considers him dead and buried in some way that’s of course at odds with the fact that he’s kept forever alive inside him as fuel. (which are also the opposite impulses of what they envision for themselves after their bout of some light recreational mutual deicide -- at that point mercy wants to be buried with cristabel in death, and augustine feels the obligation to keep himself and alfred alive at least until they’ve done what little they can to mitigate the damage they’ve caused. I love how they trade roles back and forth like that at the end of the book it’s so neat. ‘mom said it’s my turn to have the hysterics so you gotta keep your shit together for a few minutes before we switch again’)

mercy says ‘she’s still here’ and augustine says ‘he’s gone’, and they’re both right and they’re both wrong. and this is the system john put in place at the start of his new world: a world where nothing is truly alive but grief.

#the locked tomb #the locked tomb meta #harrow the ninth #mercymorn the first #augustine the first #john gaius #cannot WAIT for nona the ninth to punch me repeatedly in the face while going 'stop punching yourself! stop punching yourself!' honestly #I did this to myself. no one forced me to get attached to the horrible old war criminals #I must admire john's ability to frame himself as both in the wrong for everything in general but nothing in particular at the same time #like yeah he carries the weight of the universe on his shoulders but also nothing is ever actually his fault. just happened like that.#no one could have done anything to stop it. oh alas. what do I know I'm only god #he's so awful <3

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