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Everything posted by hayfevered

  1. the heart function dont work on old posts but im saving this
  2. im so fucking close to winning two whole ass months yal

  3. greek iris

    here, in these heavy, yellow-bellied clouds swelled with the storm, pleased by the weight unraveled & mouthy comes thunder where spindle-weak fences pin down the hills & the hills let them, & the winds scream praises, & the barbed wires rename themselves please small suns dot the gaps between lightning fingers & the sky sobs yellow-green, like the stomach of a frog here, under these dripping prayers, sweetgrass laid limp over itself and dew-shining, i ride my bike to the end of the sidewalk & that, where the rain peels itself up from the concrete humid for the sunlight, greek iris in prosper & that, where i stop propped on one foot that is what love tastes like
  4. a galaxy rings your throat

  5. oh lore?

    "Bitch," was the first thing out of Rad's mouth as their focus shrank into their palm. "Ain't you familiar with common courtesy at ALL? If you's'a been slurped into my dimension, y'ain't've lasted five seconds." To fucking hell with it, they figured, and twirling their tiny focus around clawed fingers was admittedly a little easier while they undid Mop's glamour halfway to a gaudy walking stick size, bronze suddenly dripping off it in cascades of what appeared to be beads. Oh, perfect. The drama deity had a shiny-ass parasol to go with their flair for theatrics. "An' that's how it's done," they all but sneered, tapping their glamoured staff onto the ground with finality, spinning it by the handle to accentuate the bullshit aesthetics they'd worked into it. And because this was, of course, some kind of pissing contest, Radish spent more magic on upping their physical glamour; while they apparently refused to vanish their horns, the red desaturated from them while they molded their appearance to something more human. "Bitch" was repeated at Mop with a much more self-satisfied air of confidence. @thepensword@conradbirdie@queenie_flower (im crying i need to draw radish theyre so extra)
  6. oh lore?

    file at the end contains The Lore(tm) Prompt: something has just been summoned, and nobody has a fucking clue what to do with it or how to put it back, or what even went wrong. Current setting: Dark-ass storage closet where 2-4 friends had chalked up a summoning circle. It's suddenly very fucking cramped (thanks something), and oh shit the candles might set something on fire. What now? Ew, otherworldly hand. Right in the face. Y'all stop fucking screaming. Name: Radish (Rad) Age: Primordial Gender/Pronouns: good luck trying to keep up. stick with they/them to avoid 'i dont know what gender is but im going to try them all' confusion. Species: the demon that came out of the fucking floor Height: 5'3" Appearance: http://bit.ly/2DzOtkw Surprisingly humanoid. Blame it on chameleon capabilities, probably. Blonde hair, vaguely bluish-brown skin. Too-long sharp nails and teeth + stereotypical forked tongue, but very blue. Tall by the standards of wherever they came from, but by human standards rather short. Vows vengeance but can't change physical appearance in this dimension. Clothes resemble the uniform to a British guard at Buckingham, but in royal purple and without the silly hat. Later they probably discover the comforts of hoodies and jeans. Applicable Quirks: In literally any other scenario, Rad could unload almost any language they pleased. This good-for-nothing human dimension, however, limits them to English and Latin. At least Latin is great for spells. Quick Backstory: Underling of a hegemonic rule, they were one of the king's guards. Hey, at least it came with a nifty outfit. Weapons Abilities: Quarterstaff. Powers: Focus is an emerald in their staff, bronzed wood magically bent around it so it isn't visible. To use it, Rad's kinetic energy set is a series of martial arts steps that flow much like shadowboxing would. "Ow, FUCK." buckle up yall.docx buckle up yall.docx
  7. Some Angsty Shit

    aw brabe... :( <3<3<3<3 my good vibes are coming for you
  8. hewwo everyone! im doing alright and im feeling pretty safe bc my decoy worked and since my dad thinks it's broken im going to get it out of the house and say i threw it out...my qpp stella has my working phone so it's 100% safe and i hope i can get back to you guys soon. also i have silly art of my polycule to show u guys soon sdhskjdgksjdfs

  9. help

    i am made of twine, tightly wrapped around gods fingers turning them blue (or blackening, for gold oxide/ gold ichor, coursing through her veins) i have not the words to worship nor the voice to cry just rope, fraying, pulling tight around both ceramic lungs please god let me breathe
  10. Mama's face

    theyre boycotting the slam bc of the paywall sorry dude
  11. @thepensword@conradbirdie@Short_comedian@queenie_flower@mousecircus@The Invincible Troodon@Apollo's Lover@Ainm

    to elaborate on the ominous message i left on discord, my dad found me with my smartphone (which, as y'all will recall, is one that i bought myself because im not allowed to have one) and so im in panic mode right now....but if someone can tell terran im doing ok that would be great?

    my dad went back downstairs because hes clearly fuming (but he?? also clearly has No Idea how versed i am in this particular art) so i factory reset my smartphone and i currently have a decoy iphone 4 out to see if i can tell him it was That One and then be let off the hook. i love you guys ill see yal on the other side

    1. Show previous comments  3 more
    2. Apollo's Lover

      Apollo's Lover

      We are rooting for you Logan! (sunshine)

    3. Short_comedian


      Shit man I hope you're ok. Be safe. Let us know ASAP how things go.

    4. queenie_flower


      oh my god how did I miss this I hope you’re okay

  12. Marnie Galloway Q&A

    How do you plan comics? Do you go with the flow or are there a couple drafts before the final product?
  13. of the earth

    i. drunken bees dip and bow through blueing twilight and past solar-powered pseudo-suns gilded flickering wings ii. toeing the sunset lines stars lift borrowed light from topaz-yellow honeycomb iii. may tastes like summer's first kiss like pirouetting barefoot from tar line to tar line to streetside curb like bolting through the forest heels kicking up and out as if they don't touch the ground at all may tastes like things might be okay iv. and after the rain falls, all that glitters is gold.
  14. new simile idea

    "caffeine makes me vibrate like a funky little chihuahua in direct view of the sun or one single corn chip"

  15. id like to first and foremost apologize to Terran in advance


    second, @queenie_flower all I have in the lore mechanics tag is something about focii being used instead of hands for magic bc if u miscast the focus will explode and not ur hand. and then theres a post about how storms are calming bc it's a lot of negative ions, which are apparently natural antidepressants? so while rushing water is a Pure Element and rinses away magic and ur spells won't work, it's still nice to be outside. glamours fall off like the devilfucking dickens tho which might be a problem for radish 

  16. i was so nervous to act my lines this morning and when i got up there i just started fucking yelling

    1. thepensword
    2. thepensword


      that's theatre


    3. conradbirdie


      That's Theater Babe!

  17. oh lore?

    Radish snorted. They were probably the least cryptid-like member of the party, what with their penchant for picking fights and exquisitely half-assed glamour spells. "Now, I'd've asked one'a y'all's t' explain capitalism to me, but I don't much care and it sounds awful. Plastic currency? Paper currency? Metal currency? Dunno how any a y'all's could keep from losin' it. Literally 'n metaphorically." Shooting one last confrontational glare at Mop before half-turning towards the door, they figured it wasn't a great idea to turn their back fully to her. Rad's focus was a little bulky in the corridor and probably would be in McD's too; a tall-ass thing, about six feet in length and bronzed tip to tail. Glamouring it wouldn't be hard, but kinetic magic was a little inconvenient in enclosed spaces where one wasn't trying to murder the people present. "If y'all's've got yer shit in order, let's blow this popsicle stand." God, English was fun. @conradbirdie@queenie_flower@thepensword ((if you have my tumblr then i have some posts tagged 'cicada lore mechanics' for things relevant to this. let's get this show on the ROAD))
  18. butterfly identification

    dammit jess stop eating all the samples in biology class
  19. ive been jolted awake enough shoved out of sleep, aftershocks the split-second startled impact back on the mattress to stare blind-eyed at the ceiling like a mammal shutting down from too much adrenalin rabbits close their eyes as they die i never have the god damn common sense to i always stare straight at the trigger finger flinching at the kickback, the warm red stain soaking my shirt, waistband and draining into my shoes it's not always so quick as being shoved off a cliff or the silenced whisper of a gun i have woken up rattled to the marrow because my mind has cracks and edges and memories might have fallen through my subconscious is that even possible? is the human brain capable of erecting walls so impervious that i could forget-- could forget-- it's too impossible to put words to. instead i more easily brush off nightmares wherein again at gunpoint im used, his thumb shoving into my mouth this is easier because this i can remember though the firearm was absent in the waking world i should have bitten down. should have saved myself is the human brain capable of really forgetting? rather: is it capable of fabricating? through dreams, of course but nightmares so vivid i couldn't forget-- consider touch (back against his chest) sight (blank ceiling) taste (bitter fear, one of his hands over my mouth) sound (his breath in my ear) smell (this, blank) how do i end this poem? closure? don't give me 'im sorry's and 'im here if you need to talk' if you touch me i'll flinch.
  20. moon stallions. like nightmares ha ha get it what a fun poem

  21. untitled

    my poetry teacher says u can usually find ur title in the last 3 lines ;0 pro tip
  22. Threat (tw, death, implied school shooting) (unfinished)

    these are my favorite lines. i know what you're going through; when i took classes at my high school campus there was one serious gun threat that put us in lockdown for two hours. i was scared to death, and my teacher was watching the door, listening for footsteps up the steps, and he was ready to die for us last year my English teacher, a sweet badass lady who has extreme anxiety, a DNR, and is ex-marine/ex-lawyer took us to an active shooter seminar. we were taught to look for escape scenarios in every environment. i don't really have a point other than i feel for you, please be safe, and america is fucked up
  23. Week of 4/23: CICADA-scope

  24. Week of 4/23: CICADA-scope