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Phil is in the rafters again.
Phil has used his scythe, an arrow, three arrows bundled together, his scythe again, and his hands to try and budge the crack open.
Phil has rammed himself against the wall.
Many times.
Phil has eaten another golden apple.
Phil has 31 feathers scattered on the floor.
Phil is looking at the poppy in his hands.
It's wilting.
(His daughter.)
Phil tucks the flower back into his inventory.
(Carefully.)
There are eight birds currently inside the house. Of those eight, two are in the rafters with him, one is perched on the chest, and the rest he can't see from where he perches.
The one on the chest flits to rest on Chayanne's duckie.
Phil throws an arrow at it.
It flies away.
One of the birds in the rafters flits onto his shoulder.
He doesn't move.
Phil isn't thinking of much at the moment.
His kids are fine. That story about the eggs in the maze didn't mean anything. They're safe, and with any luck have already been found.
He just needs to be patient.
(The flower is wilting.)
Phil has three quarters of his gapples left.
He also has three arrows (four counting the one he just threw), eight halves of arrows, his scythe, two books (he doesn't want to read them), a flower (wilting), and a water bucket.
There are 647 planks of wood, twelve tiles, four plants, seven walls, one floor, one roof (two slanted sides), and eight birds in the house.
The door is made of iron.
The crack in the wall is six centimeters tall and three centimeters wide.
There are no windows.
None of this has helped him get out.
No one has come for him.
Phil is patient.
His life before the island is fuzzy, but he remembers patience. He remembers the woman waiting for him on the other side. He remembers his crows. He remembers Wil.
He hopes they're alright.
Safe.
He's safe.
(For a given value of safe.)
(There is blood on his hands.)
He misses his family.
He hopes they don't miss him.
(He hopes they do.)
Phil is getting tired again.
(Tired of this house. These birds. These walls and floor and ceiling and nothingness inside of him and himself most of all.)
So tired.
He lays down and closes his eyes.
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Important question for writers: Is your character a good driver? I don't care if they don't know what a car is, this is a spiritual thing.
Doesn't respect the rules/good driver=illegal street racer
Respects the rules/good driver=uses their turn signal but could drift a car if needed
Doesn't respect the rules/bad driver=so many speeding tickets, uses both feet to drive, eyes never on the road
Respects the rules/bad driver=cries every time they have to get on the interstate, terrible reaction time
Here are all my characters! Feel free to make one of your own
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new life begins has me by the THROAT. the first goal of this show is female friendship and the second is unionize. all the romance tropes that typically lead to two females fighting are almost immediately flipped on their heads to pave the way to friendship instead. the one(1) relationship that doesn’t do this leads to the sweetest enemies-to-(girl)friends plotline. the men are terribly in love with their wives and shy about it. one girl nearly dies and her friends storm two mansions, threaten suicide, commit treason, and bear corporal punishment to save her. brothers are uniting and calling out their shitty father in the name of brotherhood. so many couples genuinely like and support each other. a son yells “thank you” and kowtows 3 times to his shitty father as the biggest “fuck you” in the show yet. I’m barely halfway through and I haven’t even scratched everything i love in this show it is SO good.
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