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For the first time in near enough a decade, I live in a home my family owns. Rentals, apartments and camping from New Zealand to Colorado. Now, a new build in the West Midlands forms a formiddable domacile. Construction continues around us, the road is unpaved, yet I feel at home, a proper home. Each day, the dust of their work is swept through the streets by a fierce and bracing wind, and the roads are the red of brick. The rainfall draws forth a flow of mud across the pavement, and the trainline can be heard in the distance on a good day.
White Plains NY, Milwaukee Wisconsin, Cape Coral Florida, Auckland New Zealand, Bucklands Beach NZ, Cape Coral Florida, Superior Colorado, Leamington Spa England, Kenilworth, Leamington Spa. I've been around. Keep moving on.
So yeah working on the same OC as I was last time I ended up doing this sorta thing, reckon I'll tag a few and see where it goes from there, just helped me develop the chap, so without further ado; some entertaining questions.
1; Never seen you before, introduce yourself? 
Reget, insidious villainous doctorateless scientist! A canny chap with the capability to travel between our world, and a much crappier one, that has taken to dressing in strange costume and committing nefarious deeds. No more tying woman to railroad tracks though, bullet trains take away all the fun.
2; What's an onomatopoeia associated with your character? Why?
*Schwarp* (Disappearing is awfully noisy.)
3; What's an easy way to annoy your character?
Calling him a lunatic, madman, or any term that's more apt than villain, or less flattering than nefarious fiend.
4; What's a key part of your character's dress sense?
A cape or cloak, and in a pinch a filtration mask. Most of his garb is a mix of aesthetics and practicality, and the cape won out while a mask is a must have for keeping dust and smoke out.
5; What's something your character likes that others might disapprove of, a taboo or guilty pleasure?
Film noire and radio dramas, giving him something of a theatrical air. And 50s style predictions of the future, the less scientific the better. A little dorky for his job, but strangely apt for a career in his absurd idea of evil.
6; What were they best at/would be best at in education? (As wacky as you can)
Applied Theoretical physics, Action science.
7; Your character meets a doppelganger of themselves, a clone or an alternate dimensional equivalent. What shenanigans ensue?
THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE. I challenge you. I choose chess at dawn. Stalemate again?
8; Oh wait, they're an evil twin. and you two get mixed up! Whats something only the real you would say!
Just because we can doesn't mean we should, but if we should it is for the best that we SHOOT HIM WHILE HE'S CONFUSED!
9; ___ am I right? I mean ____
International secretive research foundations with military backing amiright? I mean everyone else just quit and self published a week later....
10; How's the family?
Perfectly fine son, looking forward to seeing you again. No noone else is here, why do you ask?
11; What do they think their greatest strength and weakness is? Is that accurate.
In their mind, a cunning intellect vs self doubt, in reality powers vs own ego and false confidence
voidspawnpony sarahowen97 RowanHolmes
I dunno, like, the only peeps I got on DA, everything else is just stuff I'm following. And I suppose if you stumble across this somehow go ahead and tag a few yourself through mention.

Hope this is some help, idk tag in a m8 or two. Dunno.
  • Listening to: Friends bickering in an RP
  • Playing: Star Wars
  • Eating: Dried Mango
Mankind in warhammer 40,000 are one of the more pervasive species, with high psychic potential and a soul. However, at a much rarer rate blanks ( people with no soul) are born, being subtly disturbing to others. Still, at least they are better than pariahs, who have a sort of negative soul that actively damages the spiritual existence  of those around them.
Male witches are called warlocks as part of a magical social stigma towards alternative dark arts lifestyles.
I always pronounced it smog, smaug seemed too loud.
Mankind clearly didn't evolve from monkeys. We evolved from apes cos tails is for squares.
For an underground race, drow clearly see too much sun.
You cant devolve birds into T-rexes(T-rexi?) raptors on the other hand....
  • Listening to: your best nightmare
  • Drinking: ribena, the drink of gods

Warlocks and Clerics of the Young Ones

* Weak but eager, spawned from the nightmares of the north, and all those that drowned rather than face the fires of Tiamat. Not likely to have many followers, but each one is encouraged to leave marks, wards, charms and runes with even the tiniest of magical links, to invite more to speak to Them. Any of four will whisper to the devotee, the Peace (urging inaction, tolerance and self flagellation), the Virgin (speaking of the injustice of dragon rule, and the pleasure of music and poetry), the Bastard (whispering the art of magic, alchemy and ever more chaotic violence), and the Liar (goading him to tricksterly deeds and charm), and they in turn mention AyG'SoS Gfyps Tm'dbfb, too droll to be heard without fleeing.

* They will speak to a devoted, whispering through his book, his helm, any thrall he summons and in any vision. They remind him that one day the dragons shall fly no more, and They will be waiting. (Changing roster of voices might make a devotee rather gullible to anyone who can sound evil and vague enough)

* Each devotee to the Young Ones has had a meeting with Them, through sleep, trance or death. This meeting is not always successful, and the Young Ones lack the power to force a pact with the strong willed. As a result, the desperate and damned attract their attention the most, although any that stumble upon them will be offered. The only guaranteed way to meet the Young Ones is in a specific means of death, choosing death by water rather than fire.

A Pact with the New and yet Old

* A warlock of the Young ones has made a deal with the entire pantheon of ichorous terrors, and negotiated for increasing divine magic and mental prowess in exchange for a price up front, and a series of demands. The final term to seal the pact is an agreement to forfeit any memory of the pact's conditions, you will no longer remember what you have paid for power nor what you have agreed to do on Their behalf. They will take advantage of this, trying to enforce Their will even when they have no authority. Only through repeated interaction can the limits of one's contract be concluded. The pact is represented physically through three boons. The first is a boon at the warlock's choice, to influence his growing powers: a book containing the true nature of his contract, the Young One's origin and the magicks he has sold himself for, all laid out clearly in Abyssal, Pig Common, and ever more devious ciphers written in Ink; A sacrificial dagger wrought from rusted iron and whalebone, accompanied by an oozing broth that bestows both great strength and endurance, and a slow and steady madness that eventually drives the imbiber into a bloodthirsty rage; and finally a series of decaying chains, wrapped about the wielders arms and neck to symbolize their absolute command over any familiar or conjured flesh, but also their own status as a puppet to the Young Ones, allowing Them to drag the chains and make a Warlock move under Their will. The second is the Boon of the Devoted, a physical mark upon the warlock that changes and grows with their power. And the third is a trinket fished from the depths, of little worth at first glance. A warlock of the Young Ones shall retain their alignment to begin with, but may find that Their power and influence will corrupt their own intention.

A warlock of the Young Ones is the same as a warlock of the Old Ones, with the exception of the Boon of the Devoted and Minion of Them special rules.

Minion of Them; Failure to adhere to your end of the bargain has dire consequences. At the end of any day where you have disobeyed a direct order that was within the bounds of the Young Ones' authority you will fall into a deep and fitful sleep. Any attempt to rouse you will fail, and any attempt to view your alignment, thoughts or intent will show nothing. When you awake, depending on both your and the Young Ones' temperament, you may find yourself with an additional "Gift"

Boon of the Devoted: A curious mutation to show your allegiance. The following table details the effect of your new God's favor. Result (d6) Effect

1 The Young Ones are generous today. Roll twice more. And if you roll a 1 once more, they must be truly generous.

2 The Black Spot; A black stain as if from ink on the palm of your hand, invisible to anyone else except in reflections. It spreads as you displease Them. Or please Them. Any liquid you spill seems to form the exact same shape as the stain...

3 Gills; All it takes is a series of jagged cuts across your neck from tooth or bone to open up functional gills. And lose your lungs in the meantime.

4 Brains; Your hair is slowly lost, replace by a series of pinkish lobes that are sensitive to the touch and greatly help communicate with the horrific school of octopi that you have surrendered yourself to,

5 Parasites; You are carrying a variety of nautical hangers on that seem completely unperturbed by a lack of water. Other people may notice this seeming improbability. On leaving any body of water, more seem to appear hanging on to the edge of your clothes, armor and weapons.

6 Tendrils; Your hair is slowly lost, replace by a series of fleshy appendages that grow in much the same way. The occasional sucker and attempt to strangle you reassures you this is no coincidence.

* A Cleric of the Young Ones has spectacularly managed to become enthralled with or amazed by the Young Ones, worshipping them and agreeing to act as a wandering priest and allowed to keep their memories of this meeting. The patronage of one of the Four is not without its advantages, even without many other worshippers. They're a bit desperate for new followers, and this combines with their horrific dimensions to produce a gift to their priests, a state bordering on undeath. Lacerations, disembowelment, lost limbs and even decapitation can all be healed provided the missing part can be reunited with the rest of the body, but only for as long as you maintain the tenuous grasp on favor with a capricious manifestation born of indecision and death. For most clerics, it takes outright blasphemy and sin to lose hold of the connection to the divine, and a deed of true heroism to rejoin your communion. With the Young Ones even the most harmless of actions will swing the pendulum of fate between direct intervention and Their mocking wrath. Best to familiarize yourself with your patron.

A Cleric of the Young Ones follows the same rules as a Cleric, with the exception of the Plaything of Them and Boon of the Devoted Rules. You may select any of the Four to be your patron.

Plaything of Them; As long as you maintain your connection with your chosen One, you will not die at –10 hit points or below, provided your heart (Or equivalent) is intact. Indeed, even outside of your body it will pulse violently. However you will remain unconscious until restored to above 0 hit points, and every moment spent dead is a moment in Their company. You continue to take damage from poison, acid, fire or any other damage over time effect in this state, until your heart is destroyed. Your heart may even be removed so long as it can be restored to your chest and the damage to your body healed. For each round spent in this state, you lose d3-1 maximum hit points. Attempting to heal a follower once they have 0 or less hit points will result in a permanent comatose state, and will likely make them boring. One does not bore the Young Ones. Upon losing your connection to the Young Ones while in this state, your soul is forfeit to Them, granting a death as permanent as They will it to be and preventing resurrection unless another soul offers itself as a follower.

Your soul is bound to your body no matter how damaged and battered, but any effect to remove the soul will sever your connection to the Young Ones. The withdrawal of your patronage, for even a moment, will cause your heart to violently slow and return to a more human heartbeat, instantly alerting you to the loss of your clerical abilities and proving a heavy distraction. Atoning will return it to its bizarre, irregular beat. Extended periods without communion with Them will foster doubts, as will time spent dead or unconscious, and may lead to a decision to leave Their fold and seek a new patron, or lose faith entirely.

The Peace, domains Nature, Life A great and stretched human body, face contorted into a twisted mockery of resigned despair and great fear. A carpet of hair falls from its head, and it wears a baggy sack that billows out with each of its 8 arms' True Neutral "Hey guys, I think you should just, like, mellow out." "No need to be so negative." "Collecting the souls of the drowned is just, really negative." Boredom, cruelty, killing, wealth, technology, eating meat, anger, overt displays of passion or interest and sleep. Self flagellation, cooking, determination, self sacrifice, resignation to fate and artistic endeavours (no matter how slight, accidental or inarticulate)

The Bastard, Domains Death, Arcana. Appears as a drowned man dressed in animal hide and blue with a collection of nails driven through his forehead, nose and ears. A shock of red hair tries and fails to distract from a voice that can make a whisper a shout. Chaotic Evil "Yes! We've got Avid'Eopla!" "What a Bastard!" "Virgin!" Boredom, classism, manners, Violence of any and all kinds. Verbal impoliteness. Innovation and invention (successful or not) impulsive action.

The Virgin; Domains War, Knowledge. Appears as a great and gibbering head, skin marked with pustules and red marks. Its uneven hair and indeterminate gender make it look akin to a beholder. About it float 100 corrupt sigils bearing conflicting messages. Chaotic Neutral (followers must be chaotic) "Down with drwagons!" "Down with pollution!" "Protect the endangered drwagon you tyrant!" Offended by Boredom, polluting the environment, respecting authority, military action, thatched roofs, thatchers, illiteracy (despite own poor grammar and speech) criticism of poetry, and calling it the Virgin. Appeased by breaking Laws (no matter how minor) killing a source of authority, music, and poetry.

The Liar; Domains Trickery,Light. Appears as a gnome with no features other than a smile and a reflective black haircut. Neutral Evil "Whatever you want em to be sweetheart." Offended by truths for the sake of truth, a lack of wit, boredom, failure to seduce entice or impress, and being caught. Appeased by dress sense, seduction, thievery, misdirection, cunning plans and obtaining wealth.

Character Notes

* (Alexei) Bogdan Calvary, goes by Alexei informally, Bogdan Calvary formally

* Robes are ragged and dirty, encrusted with barnacles and limpets at the very edge

* Formerly from a fishing village from (wherever is icy in setting)

* Lost his family on the day of the Dragons

* As he burned, he jumped into the waters, drowning himself.

* Found by a party of adventurers exploring the burnt town 2 months prior to current events, stepping out of the water in strange robes, head bound in a visored helmet and with no memories since the fires.

* Skin visibly pale and bloated, as if drowned.

* Face scarred horribly, mixture of dragonfire burns and bites taken by opportunistic fish

* Joined the adventurers guild in order to find work, and await the right moment. "Search for the Old, pave way for the New"

* Carries a book bound to him by chains, written in a mixture of languages and codes as confusing to him as to others. Would likely get him killed on discovery.

* As level grows, so does a tangle of brain matter and fleshy tendrils that have replaced his hair, will he have to cover up in the presence of the gospel. Hides this through a hood, flashy sermon talking, and claiming his helmet is to mask "My unworthy flesh, visited by their holy fire" Pretends to be a pilgrim on occasion. Possible to collect a book of the Gospel?

* Illiterate villagers make poor warlocks, mispronounces macabre, eldritch


* Focus on pact, control of flesh and shaping self rather than familiars

* Shout and scream from this vantage point into others thoughts

* (Extreme maybe) Try to side class into rogue, learn to mimic voices, pretend to be your thoughts (probs a feat for this)

* Casts eldritch bolt through his eyes along with many other powers, but still needs his hands free for gestures both arcane, and egotistical.

* Former fisherman? Some nautical stuff

* Let Them sleep.

  • Listening to: Bonetrousle
  • Drinking: Milk
For years we Brits have waited, forced to try and eat kiwis with a knife and spoon. It has been 7 years since I left new Zealand, and finally, they have arrived. GLORIOUS KIWI SPOONS!
  • Listening to: Oppa Toby Style
  • Drinking: Milk.…
More than 8000 pages. I've been following Homestuck since about 2012, I joined in time to ride through the gigapause, megapause and micropause. I've watched as my favourite characters die and fade away to make room for new ones, only to come back to seize the world by storm. And I think, that even if some people don't think he wrapped up loose ends, that might be the point. We have a canvas for now, with just enough clues and mysteries left to keep us thinking forever. But most importantly, we forgot a Lil' someone.

  • Listening to: Oppa Toby Style
  • Drinking: Milk.
This old friend of mine has created a contest with the rare and elusive promise of sketches at the end. The perfect opportunity to exercise my think pan and get some writing done. 
  • Listening to: Megalovania
  • Eating: Buttered Toast
  • Drinking: Milk.
A friend of mine dug up the rules for a Star wars role playing game and decided to host a game, to much amusement. Browsing through the species choices, and encouraged to come up with something relatively sane given some of the outlandish ideas the others were coming up with led me to, on a whim, create Bluff Miram, hunter extraordinaire! Bedecked in Explorers hat. Plan was a bit of a mockery of the usual Trandoshan Hunters, lizardly aliens intent on abducting and poaching other species, by giving him a gentleman's guise and a bloated sense of pomp and honour. After a week or two I decided to take him a bit more seriously, he's still sorta believing his species' propaganda and has a vague

Background: While many of his species are known for their prowess in the field of hunting, Bluff is renowned for his... unusual approach to what is merely an excuse for cruelty to a number of his peers. He takes hunting to the extent of an obsession, the desire to collect trophies and tales to rival the grandest of his kind, albeit through his own sense of honour. His fashion sense is also contrary to his kind, donning a khaki garb that serves to compliment a pale green hide. A brimmed hat, corks dangling about its rim serves to make him an odd sight to others of his people, along with an unusual literacy and clarity of accent. Sounds like an imperial officer in his pronunciation.(Can bluff an officer's voice if not appearance) (No hissssing, although his tongue does slow his speech to a somewhat ponderous rate unless he becomes excited, at which point the usual reptilian noisesss return) 
Feels shame at his tribe for actions that he sees as dishonourable, to whit murder of children and civilians, killing and hunting without care. It should be personal, even if he's blasting your head off from a mile. And game reserves are just shameful. An actual jungle however.... Anything with a gun and a full head of hair is fair game, preferably something new and exotic. During his childhood he was required to eat the rest of the eggs in his clutch like most of his kin, but with something more of a impact on him. He still took to the usual stalking and killing part until his rite of passage called for him to kill a clearly unprepared  youngling who'd been taken for some sport, and decided to take his supervisor as a greater challenge, earning a bit of respect if some suspicion. He was given his father's own Fur coat (relation to Wookies unproven) and brought along on the next trip to another planet for mercenary work, where he promptly hopped ship and disappeared, deciding to try and fit in with real society. But to be classy you need respect, and to get respect you need honour and Jagganath, the points earned by killing anything that walks crawls or flies, so he took up work with eliminating troublesome creatures (for as wide a definition as the client desires) for a small fee, earning some minor notoriety for his trouble.

Personality: A Gentrified Huntsman with poor attention, tiring rapidly of anything not of immediate interest and unwilling to accumulate wealth beyond his immediate needs. Desires recognition for his deeds however, and unwilling to let another lay claim to his acts. Easily appeased if you are willing to listen to his long and rambling accounts of his prior adventures with such monsters as the legendary "Greater Womp Rat" or provide your own. Will take violent offence to any attempt to take his property, even if he is normally willing to share. You'll wish he tore your arm off. Unwilling to loot another man's kill, and takes offence if someone does the same. Keeps a trophy room in a cave off-world somewhere I guess, but presumably well hidden and in a dangerous area to discourage looting.

Racist in the manner of an older era, not supremacy. Hates savages, including those of his own race not making the effort. This is a desire to act as civilised as possible, extending even to his gait (keeps a straight back and hates stooping or hunching) and his speech and actions, getting rather cross if he winds up defaulting to instincts. Unlike the usual Doshan hatred of Wookies, his is a more subdued disdain, preferring to mock what he sees as a stronger, if witless and speechless, species. (You're quite clever for your kind etc.) Unlikely to kill one without cause, but he is confused if they take offence to his all weather fur coat. While not fluent in their language, he knows little enough to pick up clues in context, or express his dissatisfaction with their smell and filthy fur. As for other races, anything smaller is looked upon with a mixture of befuddlement, contempt, and loathing dependant on mood and appearance. (Ugnauts are stupid pygmies, Ewoks are cuddly unless they provoke him, humans are squishy weaklings; even though they represent civilised society in his eyes individually he doesn't really care for anyone unless they can shoot straight or talk enough to keep him in thrall)
Preferred offering of peace: A finger or toe removed in front of the recipient to demonstrate his lack of immediate aggression and a bond of peace that will last about as long as the injury. (In-game they can grow back a limb or digit in under a week, although they only have 3 fingers to begin with.) Experiences and the circumstances of his leaving his clan have all cost an arm and a leg at one point or another, there's probably someone who still has a little something of his. 

Appearance: Dressed in a khaki uniform, coat slung over one shoulder or clutched in hand if weather is accommodating, otherwise tightened to compensate for weather. (cold blooded, doesn't do snow.) Quite likes the desert, hence the warm suited clothes and usual Doshan lack of shoes, leading to a strong dislike of rundown areas such as lower cities for fear of what he might step in. Wears the Hollywood Ocker hat, the much touted headgear of an Australian who finds corks less bothersome than flies. A Bandoleer is slung over his left shoulder, holding spare ammo, monster teeth bound to the top to carry a measure of his repute with him, and an awful lot of mesh tape because DUCT TAPE IN SPAAACE! is useful.
  • Listening to: The Dark Crystal Soundtrack
  • Eating: Dried Mango
  • Drinking: Milk.
 sarahowen97 got tagged in this thingamajig and I reckoned it seemed like a good idea to help me develop an OC I've had in mind for a while.

His name is Sir.Real, a supervillain wannabe, with a natural power that lets him phase out of our world into some creepy one with a hallucinogenic atmosphere and abandoned buildings, a creepy version of intangibility, and a gauntlet of his own design that can be used to levitate stuff.

1. Choose one of your OCs.
2. Your OC must answer every question as truthfully as possible.
3. Journal title should be "OC Interview".
4. When you’re done, tag as many people as you wish.
5. Have fun!

1. Hi! What's your real name and nickname?
Names Martyn, but  you can call me Sir.Real, its pronounced Surreal unless you're addressing me... know what nevermind.

2. Interesting... what's your current age?
22, fresh out of a degree, a hushhush job on illegal mass manipulation research and an overzealous contract termination.

3. Uh-huh. What's your favourite food?
Goulash with Gnocci, simple, homely and warming. That or that cheese they set fire to.

4. And your favourite drink?
A quality cider. Not overly alcoholic and not weak either. 

5. Confession time! Who do you love?
Had a crush on my Lab partner till I got passed up for promotion, fired and all my research stolen by her. I got the prototype though. And some revenge......

6. Aww! Have you kissed yet?
She's kinda my nemesis now. Easier to hold a grudge on a person than a company. Still snuck one in all swashbuckler style when I took an early retirement package. Dunno how deep she's in with the suits but I think she's not just in it for the money. Plus it wasn't all one way....

7. Classic question! What's your favourite colour?
White. Status symbol, clean. 

8. Who’s your favourite author?
Damnit cant remember off the top of my head but some of those old pulp adventure novels definitely. Two-fisted heroes, moustache twirling villains, ray guns. We are living in the world I grew up reading about and everyone is so uptight about it. All it takes is one lab accident, a gadget and a motive to make those kinds of stories real. And I got that.

9. Now what's your biggest fear?
Having only limited experience testing my phasing and the effects of organic matter appearing in a solid object, to whit another organic object..... the look on the faces of the two guys who wound up inside each other, I wasn't trying! I pulled the one guy with me then let go. They just sort of looked like they were screaming, they sort of flickered I guess? Like a broken picture on a recording but two people inside each other. That's why I try not to abuse the whole powers thing. I'm an inventor, I make my power. But seriously that sort of paralysed gaze. 

10. *stifles a giggle* I'm not laughing... *bursts out laughing* Sorry. Any siblings?
Nice one jerk. But yeah, they weren't exactly into the whole science thing, two sort of ordinary brothers. Only thing we shared was adventure fiction. Bet they'd love to see me now. Contacting them would be a mistake though. 

11. Almost done, it's only twenty questions. Who's your hero?
Dirk Daring, action scientist. Jet engines, blimps, outdated slang. A man willing to stand up for what's right. But Captain Nefario, the villain, he didn't wait for funding, he didn't answer to a committee, he made all the fabulous toys that "weren't practical" or "mankind is not ready for this" he was the real hero. I like to feel I fall between the two. Real life, the guy who set me on my path. An old teacher that gave me the right book.

12. Okay, who's your worst enemy?
The Company.
Some idiots who think they're heroes cos they've got powers. They need a costume, a name. Training is not as important as attitude and aptitude. Damn only knows I can't remember them short of mnemonics.

13. Interesting... what would you do if you met your creator?
Ask everything I can. Secrets to the functionality of the universe I occupy, secrets to everyone, and most importantly why did they cancel Firefly?

14. Okay, I'll contact them right now. Done! Now, what do you want to be when you grow up?
Already living the Dream. First proper villain. Mask, armour, cape. Gadgets. Anything I want to do.

15. What's your worst nightmare?
Generally being immobilised. Woke up once in a nightmare, muscles all froze up, completely still. Helplessness. *shudder* 

16. What’s your life-long dream?
Inventing a better energy source in order to refine technological manipulation of matter by levitation. Telekinesis by our own efforts, not by some random quirk of genetics, or freak accident, or some crackpot "Psychics". My E.M.M.O. is working allright but some crazy broad decided to nick half my notes just to make a half-assed hovercar. "Sorry Martyn, your toy has no practical applications. Clear out your lab by Friday." Well look who can snatch the guns out of your hands from a room away and fool around with cars.

17. What would you do if your life-long dream came true?
Form a new organisation dedicated to achieving the maximum of humanity. FOR SCIENCE.

18. Okay, where's your favourite place to relax?
Everywhere! Off the grid, no employer, all the parts power cells and tools I can steal off of the suits that chucked me out. But best relaxing spot is outside. Anywhere so long as you can see the clouds.

19. Last question! What do you spend most of your time doing?
Tinkering. Stealing parts to tinker with. Testing my recent developments on private (hehe) organic military assets from the same company that stole my life. 

20. We're done! Now tag whoever you want. DO IT:
  • Listening to:
  • Eating: Fruit Gums
  • Drinking: Rekorderlig
What's the difference between an unpopular blog and a diary?
That is what's cool about this. One can get the simultaneous feeling of conversation and of talking to oneself. No wonder someone's journal is a wall on facebook.
  • Listening to: The Lordling (cherubim)(homestuck)
  • Eating: 3.1459625
Its just Peculiar. Aquatic wildlife has always fascinated me and I love to see the sea but at the same time I am in awe and terrified of the open ocean. Frightened of riptides or creatures from the deep. Its sort of an agoraphobia, the size and scale will often intimidate me at certain depths. I have no problem swimming and in fact I love it, the feeling of weightlessness as you float about and the resistance of the water as it pushes back against the slightest movement. If it offers any insight, though I rarely dream when I do I get eaten by a shark. :[
  • Listening to: Wwretched Wwaltz (Tomb of the ancestors)(Homestuck
  • Eating: Cereal


(wtf that was weird copy/pastin)

Questions "Of Doom"

1. Sunset or sunrise?

2. If you could say one thing to the whole world, what would you say?

3. If you could turn into one other animal, what would it be?

4. What would you do if you suddenly found yourself stuck as that animal (but could still speak)?

5. If someone loses their memory, does the person they used to be ‘die’?

6. What are you listening to right now (or what was the last thing you listened too)?

7. Would you rather be free and alone or enslaved but with friends? Why?

8. If you had to go on the run and couldn’t trust your own family, who would you go to or where would you go to be safe? Why them/there?

9. If you could have one item that would survive the end of the world with you, what would it be? Why?

10. Favourite ice-cream flavour?


1. Sunset. So much more purple and blue and cloud outlines at a time where you are tired and over-imaginative.

2. Capitalism is a poor man's dream, communism is a rich man's nightmare.

3. Some kind of octopus I presume. Maybe a vampire squid but they live in the depths, it would be cool but little to see but staring into the abyss (cool enough as is). Probably just one in a reef, somewhere to explore weird and alien sensations (9 brains?) and have fun with camouflage. The idea of an utterly alien intelligence and form takes precedence of something closer to normal.

4. Try to reach an aquarium. Have fun with scientists. Control world cup outcomes. I dunno/care. Maybe just eat lots of crabs. Or terrify the depths by outsmarting sharks.

5. But at the same time when you gain memories you would die, I think its more of a reset to someone you used to be, the old person is just a possible you that that person could become again if things play out the same way.

6. Huh. Didnt know copy worked like that. A funny musical parody of rage quitting. Last music though was Jeff Wayne's War of the Worlds the musical. Music to invade Earth to.

7. Free but alone would drive me insane bit by bit. Like most of my summers when I cant meet any of my friends. Depends how free. If it was in the wild vs in a labour camp, screw friends I'll just listen to the clouds and trees in the wind and rain.

8. I would flee to America. If I'm in trouble enough to threaten my life I want to see my homeland again, or at least the prairies of Colorado. Anyone who has seen a picture can say a PD (prairie dog) is cute but in real life and in the wild they are much more impressively adorable.

9. Necronomicon: The best Weird Tales of H.P. Lovecraft. Finish reading it before I starve to death and use quotes to terrify future explorers, or preserve it so it can live on. Won't stoop to the old ploy of substituting it for the Bible as it has no moral tales, but it would be fun as a guide for threatening post-apocalyptic Graffiti.

10. Mango Sorbet. Such a sweet and delectable fruit of itself.

How well equipped would you be for the collapse of society if it ever came? Too common a theme among the people of today. Still it begs a question, how many luxuries could you go without. I've often been camping but rarely without books, How many people can go without bottled water, foraging for food. It terrifies me that in most survivor stories the only way anyone seems able to survive is through dependence on what we have left, scavenging and scrounging for the most basic of necessities. Only Generations down the line when we've exhausted what was left of man's supplies does anyone try to grow crops. Literature and the screen seem to just show man as savages, that the minute we lose sight of law and a state of eternal plenty we descend into hunting and barbarism. Maybe its just because everything is dependent on what we have today, from the bottom up.
Whilst I was travelling in a foreign land I dared glance up, at a sky that seemed so many miles above me. I prefer where I live, clouds seem so much closer, almost within reach daring  you and turning, blown by unseen winds into shapes outlandish and childish, beautiful and terrible. To gaze into the clouds on a summer day, only when we are far from our homes do we ever seem to take in the world around us. As I watched I could see a cloud tear apart, twisting into the many heads of a hydra, its serpentine heads recoiling as another cloud contorted into a wolf's gaping maw and swallowed it, pausing to howl before dissipating into the air. Why is it that we only turn to our world when we are bored? Or is it just me, another slave to a box on the wall until, withdrawn from it and in the absence of diversions, I turn my head t'wards the sky and dare to dream. Camping is good for the mind, it trains us, able to see anything in the beams of rains and rolling sky, and the playful dance of fire.
Today is what you must push through to reach tomorrow, Tomorrow is the promise of ever more of life, and Yesterday improves with every glance backwards. I think it the most merciful thing in the world that we can reflect on our actions and atone for them, The most hopeful thing that we always look forwards to the future, And the greatest gift the now that we occupy. (Wont stoop to make a pun on present.)
 Your past is very much a different country. It has its immigrants to the present and you can visit it, but the older you get the more you debate trying to live there.
 The future is like a stretch of urban development going on near your house. You can see how its turning out and wonder what  it will like like, but when its done its already too familiar to amaze you.
 The present is more like your house. You have a glimpse of the future out your front door, and the horizon of the past is just out of view from the back windows.