Annatar
Lord of Gifts
- Location
- Pittsburgh
- Pronouns
- He/Him/They/Them
Votes closed
All Things Devoured (Worm/DeadSpace)
- Thread starter UnwelcomeStorm
- Start date
Evil Plan
Not nearly so nefarious as my name signifies
- Location
- Eastern United States
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Yeeeaahhhh I'm not actually surprised, to be honest. I opened the thread to read the update and found there was like fifteen pages beyond it, and I figured "like at least half of that's gonna be votes, I'm not paging through all of that" and threw it in. Maybe I should stick to the threadmarks.
On the other hand:
@UnwelcomeStorm I feel like the timing is going to make me look selfish, but would it be possible to always have the current "vote closed" announcement as the last threadmark or as a sticky post? Either of those would make it really easy to check whether voting is currently closed, which I would hope would cut down on misplaced votes.
Marsyas
Surprisingly Jellicle
- Location
- Undimensioned and Unseen
I know the votes are closed, but even so...
[X]YES make...us...whole...
Altman be praised! The Unity approaches! Holy creature, transform Emma into your servant. Show her the path to enlightenment as you alter her flesh and free her soul.
[X]YES make...us...whole...
Altman be praised! The Unity approaches! Holy creature, transform Emma into your servant. Show her the path to enlightenment as you alter her flesh and free her soul.
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- Location
- .
Vote closed
Evonix
Aspiring Lovecraft antagonist.
- Location
- Canada to 2 sigmas
[X] Danny
[X] Dream plants
(Like what Vista pulped)
It should be noted that even if you approach it from a nutural perspective "body horror" is still bad but for different reasons, it's crude, kludgy, suboptimal. Biology should he beutiful because good design is beutifull, the tiger is graceful because the poetry of kenetic energy generated, stored, moved, changed and brought to a point is graceful. The Bobbit worm is desturbing because form follows function but it is beutiful, patterns over patterns within patterns brought to a point, a purpose, a whole spectrum of them even.
Beyond which even if she denies it Taylor is a living thing, she should act like it, biology is... complex and she should start to learn that complexity, as it is she's exstrodanaraly wastfull, flesh can be used more than once or twice and thrown away, if nothing else breathing has major benifits, honestly I'm surprised she's gotten away without for this long, shard bullshit? The high energy reactions of mucles need oxygen as a reactent. Beyond which a greater understanding of biology could give acsess to wider ranges of biologies, like the blood of horseshoe crabs or however those worms that live in methane ice work.
Also for insperation
[X] Dream plants
(Like what Vista pulped)
It should be noted that even if you approach it from a nutural perspective "body horror" is still bad but for different reasons, it's crude, kludgy, suboptimal. Biology should he beutiful because good design is beutifull, the tiger is graceful because the poetry of kenetic energy generated, stored, moved, changed and brought to a point is graceful. The Bobbit worm is desturbing because form follows function but it is beutiful, patterns over patterns within patterns brought to a point, a purpose, a whole spectrum of them even.
Beyond which even if she denies it Taylor is a living thing, she should act like it, biology is... complex and she should start to learn that complexity, as it is she's exstrodanaraly wastfull, flesh can be used more than once or twice and thrown away, if nothing else breathing has major benifits, honestly I'm surprised she's gotten away without for this long, shard bullshit? The high energy reactions of mucles need oxygen as a reactent. Beyond which a greater understanding of biology could give acsess to wider ranges of biologies, like the blood of horseshoe crabs or however those worms that live in methane ice work.
Also for insperation
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Firedon
Lazy Sleepy Cat
- Location
- Germany
Errr. What vote are you on? That's not the last one and that one is closed too.
Evonix
Aspiring Lovecraft antagonist.
- Location
- Canada to 2 sigmas
dunno how I missed that there were more updates, I think we should look into those plants though. On a different note people seem to be reffering to information about what happened to the shard that I can't find.
[X] What am I doing? Why am I doing it? Emma can wait, sleepwalking needs to be dealt with now.
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UnwelcomeStorm
BARK! BARK! BARK!
- Location
- United States
Are we even reading the same story, here?
- Location
- Existance
Out of curiosity, how often do you read this story? Just whenever you want to refresh your memory, or do you also enjoy sitting down and reading about the little universe of horror you're creating?
UnwelcomeStorm
BARK! BARK! BARK!
- Location
- United States
I always go through the last few chapters before writing a new one, just to get context and whatnot fresh in my mind again, but once every few months I'll take a stroll through the rest of the fic. Partly to keep my memory fresh on details and Chekkhov's Guns, partly to watch and make sure I'm keeping Taylor's voice consistent, and partly just for enjoyment.
Okibruez
(Verified Mid-Boss)
- Location
- Dreams
I'm still excited by this update: However we go about it, there are some things Taylor won't be able to hand wave any more after this.
Am I a terrible person for looking forward to the fall? I've enjoyed the whole 'trying to play nice and pretend like Taylor's a people' thing entirely in anticipation of just how bad it'll be for everyone when she finally did snap.
Am I a terrible person for looking forward to the fall? I've enjoyed the whole 'trying to play nice and pretend like Taylor's a people' thing entirely in anticipation of just how bad it'll be for everyone when she finally did snap.
Wait... I'm confused. Did the story stop until the threadmarked update, or was there more?
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
No update 15's the most recent update, just never underestimate the ability of folks to wander off the beaten path.
Especially given that the vote's conclusion was where it was outright spelled out that, shock of all shocks, we don't have absolute control over what Taylor does and thinks due to her nature as a Necromorph.
Huh. Hmteresting.
TheDanishLord
Viking Warlord
- Location
- Denmark
Oh my
Love it
Love it
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Firedon
Lazy Sleepy Cat
- Location
- Germany
Vote's closed.
16
UnwelcomeStorm
BARK! BARK! BARK!
- Location
- United States
16
Emma wasn't at school the next day. I passed by her locker a few times, ignoring the stares and whispers of all the students who were also missing our little routine. I debated skipping class and going to the Docks to set up my old rat traps, for a substitute nostalgia, but ultimately decided it wasn't worth getting Assault on my ass about truancy.
The day after that, I got called into the Principal's office--which was kinda upsetting, because if I'd known I was going to be in trouble anyway then I may as well have spared myself the drudgery--but the two police officers waiting there kinda shot the idea that this was over something I'd done to piss off the staff of Winslow out of the water. If that wasn't enough, Principal--I'd never learned her name; Ernst? Earnhert? Something with an E?--quietly excused herself and left me alone with the officers as soon as I got there. One of the two uniformed men stepped forward slightly, but before he could speak or introduce himself I interrupted with a loud, whistling sigh through the ruin of my nose and asked, "Okay, what now?"
The officer didn't seem to like being thrown off his stride, but he took it well enough. "Miss Hebert, I'm Officer Jones, this is Officer Roberts. We'd like to ask you a few questions." He gestured at one of the chairs in the room; they'd already been pulled away from the desk to make a little triangle, one for me and two together for the police. I gave a bony shrug instead of an answer and sat down. Jones and Roberts sat themselves down, facing me, once I'd settled.
"Great. First off, Miss Hebert, do you know an Emma Barnes?"
"Uh… yes, duh." That had to be rhetorical, or some kind of form-letter interrogation starter. When the officers frowned again I rolled my eyes. "Everybody knows I know Emma. It'd be hard for me not to. Why?"
"Emma's parents reported her missing, and she hasn't been seen since the day before yesterday. You two have some history together, so we were wondering if you'd seen her, or if you'd have any idea where she might be?" Ohhhh, right. There was a minimum 24-hour thing about missing persons.
"I dunno," I shrugged again. "I know she wasn't at school yesterday. We haven't been buddy-buddy for a while, so she didn't come crawling to me if that's what you're wondering."
The officers were steady enough to not exchange a glance, but the second one spoke up, saying, "You say you're not 'buddy-buddy' with Miss Barnes. Could you elaborate on that a bit?"
"...not really."
"And why is that?" One of the two leans forward a bit to study me, and I half-turn away. It's good that I don't have a heartbeat or any nervous tics for them to jump on, but the mention of Emma and the scrutiny still makes me want to press bone spines out of my everywhere; maybe see if they like being needled. I doubt they're going to let me leave without answering, though, so I frown with the half of my face that's not withered and sigh again, blowing a stray lock of hair out of my face in the manner of surly teenagers everywhere.
"Oh. I get it."
"Get what, Miss Hebert?"
"What you're doing. If watching cape dramas on TV has taught me anything, it's that there's an easy way to tell who the secret villain is. I'll give you a hint," I say, and gesture at my face while dropping my voice into a stage whisper. "It's the ugly one."
* * *
Either the cops don't know if they can hold me without any charges or a confirmed criminal case, or they're reluctant to on account of my rather public history with abuse of authority, but either way I don't get handcuffed and marched out of Winslow. I am given a speech about not leaving town any time soon, and that they'll be in touch, and if there's anything that comes to mind about Emma I should give them a call, so once I get the opportunity to do so I end up hiding on the roof of the school and digging out my shiny new PRT phone to call Assault. He did say it was now his job to deal with my problems, or something close enough to that effect. After a couple of rings, he picks up. "Deadpan, what's up?"
"One of my classmates went missing and I'm the most suspicious-looking person in a five mile radius," I rasp. "Police already came by to ask me some stuff. Figured you should know."
"O-oh. Um. Okay... you're coming in after class, right? Why don't we talk about this then?"
"Fine," I say, and hang up. Getting all that questioning out of the way is probably better done sooner than later, and there's a bit of a silver lining: with this being so 'distressing' I'm willing to bet I can hang out on the roof of Winslow for the rest of the day instead of going to class. It's a nice day for it, too, with plenty of sun. It takes me a few minutes to figure out the specifics, but I hook a few strands of wriggling meat over the doorknob leading back into the school, to keep it closed and hopefully alert me of anyone trying to open it. That leaves me more or less safe to spread several thin puddles of flesh around the rooftop, and try to replicate the flowers I dreamed about. Maybe give shaping a meatrat another go, while I'm up here. All in all, a pleasant afternoon.
It's nice to feel whole.
Research Opportunity, choose one:
[ ]Channel Flesh
[ ]Chemical Compounds: Inorganics
[ ]Chemical Compounds: Combustion
[ ]Discorportion: Severance
[ ]Discorporation: Biohazard
[ ]Mimicry: Animal
[ ]Mimicry: Mechanical
* * *
Once I got to work and met up with Assault, the hero led me back to his tiny office and sat me down for another round of questioning. Though, this one would probably contain marginally less sarcasm; despite my quota, this was a bit serious. The PRT and Protectorate know I'm a zombie, after all. The police might think I have a motive for Emma's sudden failure to exist, but the PRT could think I have a means. I kept my flesh held tightly to my Taylor-shape, and chewed on my lip like I was nervous, and waited for Assault to get to the point.
"Okay," he finally took a breath, and leaned forward a bit over his desk. "Talk to me, kiddo. What's going on?"
"I told you. One of the kids at school didn't show up for a couple days, so the cops came and asked me about her."
"You mentioned. Did they talk to anyone else, or just you?"
"Probably the principal," I shrug. "Maybe a couple other people. But I didn't hear anyone else called to the office."
"Okay. What did they ask you?"
"Just… stuff. Things like if I'd seen or talked to her recently." I trail off for a few moments, then huff angrily. "They probably think I killed her or something."
"That's… a bit of a leap, Taylor. Why do you think that?" Assault's a person who trembles their legs when anxious. My feet are goo inside my shoes, where he can't see them, and I can feel the vibrations in tiny ripples.
"Well, 'cuz… because it's Emma. She's the one who did this to me," I run my hand down my face, the side with the withered lips, and I trace my smile for a moment. "Her and her friend, Sophia. And a couple hangers-on, too. So I guess I've got reason to want revenge."
Assault's leg goes very still halfway through that sentence, and even his hand twitches. He moves it to the arm of his chair. Hmm. "Well, I guess I can understand that. Do you want revenge, Taylor? I won't judge."
I don't believe for a second that's not a loaded question, but I'm also not sure what the correct answer is. Silence seems kinda damning, though, so after a long pause I lower my voice. "I don't know. Sometimes, yeah; I think about everything she did and said and I get pissed off. She was my best friend, before she met Sophia… so the fact that we were close made it hurt more when she broke away, y'know? Other times I just-- wish the whole thing had never happened at all."
"Yeah, that's-- that's rough, Taylor. I'm sorry."
I shrug again. Despite my attempts to keep still, I can feel the flesh around my spine twisting and rearranging, ready to lash out. I know it's important, but I don't like this conversation anymore. "I dunno. I try not to think about it."
"Okay," Assault's usual boisterous tone is absent. I have a bit of trouble trying to place what voice he's aiming for. "Well, there's no reason to think something like that has happened to her, so try not to let the cops get to you, okay? Is there anything else you think I should know, or that you want to talk about?"
Is there?
[ ]Yes: Confess to harassing Emma
[ ]No: I'd rather let the matter digest in peace
* * *
I finally let my flesh relax once I get out of Assault's office, and my spinal cord wastes no time in freeing itself from the confines of my skeleton. By the time I get to the Wards' Commons it's been repurposed into a stretchy whip protruding from the back of my head, with the remains of my coccyx sharpened into a spearhead. The long scythes that my wrists are fond of forming make it a little difficult to buzz myself in, but that's the tradeoff for dual-wielding the grim reaper, I guess.
I don't actually remember that my room is off-limits until I'm already in the common area, so I'm a bit thrown by finding both Armsmaster and someone else I don't recognize. The newcomer is probably an adult, and he's wearing a set of full-body armor made of oddly smooth metal or ceramic in different shades of white and pale grey. They stop what conversation they're involved in and look up as I approach. Maybe I should have worn my costume, instead of letting my giblets all hang out.
Armsmaster taps a pencil against the clipboard he's holding--even from here it looks like it's full of gibberish, much less math gibberish--and speaks first. "Deadpan, good timing. Sphere and I are going over the requirements for refurbishing your quarters. We could use some more samples of your acid to help choose the right alloy composition."
Huh. So that's Sphere. I didn't know he really worked with the Protectorate, I only ever hear about him building those underwater habitats and stuff. And I guess the quarantine domes, like up in Wisconsin. The Tinker walks towards me and extends a white-enameled hand; I shake it with a vestigial arm I push out of my stomach. He actually laughs. "Deadpan, huh? Nice to meet you. Exciting stuff, this-- Armsmaster tells me you've got a belly full of Nitric in concentrations it really shouldn't be at. I'm looking forward to testing it, I use Inconel 625 for the basis of a lot of my work, and developing a variant alloy to withstand your juices could have wonderful cross-applications for fission shielding and containment."
I… have no idea what this man is talking about. I mutter a quick agreement and then excuse myself to go check the Ward schedules, because at least on that the words make sense.
I could tolerate the company of someone who speaks English and doesn't ask questions:
[ ]Who? (Write-in)
Emma wasn't at school the next day. I passed by her locker a few times, ignoring the stares and whispers of all the students who were also missing our little routine. I debated skipping class and going to the Docks to set up my old rat traps, for a substitute nostalgia, but ultimately decided it wasn't worth getting Assault on my ass about truancy.
The day after that, I got called into the Principal's office--which was kinda upsetting, because if I'd known I was going to be in trouble anyway then I may as well have spared myself the drudgery--but the two police officers waiting there kinda shot the idea that this was over something I'd done to piss off the staff of Winslow out of the water. If that wasn't enough, Principal--I'd never learned her name; Ernst? Earnhert? Something with an E?--quietly excused herself and left me alone with the officers as soon as I got there. One of the two uniformed men stepped forward slightly, but before he could speak or introduce himself I interrupted with a loud, whistling sigh through the ruin of my nose and asked, "Okay, what now?"
The officer didn't seem to like being thrown off his stride, but he took it well enough. "Miss Hebert, I'm Officer Jones, this is Officer Roberts. We'd like to ask you a few questions." He gestured at one of the chairs in the room; they'd already been pulled away from the desk to make a little triangle, one for me and two together for the police. I gave a bony shrug instead of an answer and sat down. Jones and Roberts sat themselves down, facing me, once I'd settled.
"Great. First off, Miss Hebert, do you know an Emma Barnes?"
"Uh… yes, duh." That had to be rhetorical, or some kind of form-letter interrogation starter. When the officers frowned again I rolled my eyes. "Everybody knows I know Emma. It'd be hard for me not to. Why?"
"Emma's parents reported her missing, and she hasn't been seen since the day before yesterday. You two have some history together, so we were wondering if you'd seen her, or if you'd have any idea where she might be?" Ohhhh, right. There was a minimum 24-hour thing about missing persons.
"I dunno," I shrugged again. "I know she wasn't at school yesterday. We haven't been buddy-buddy for a while, so she didn't come crawling to me if that's what you're wondering."
The officers were steady enough to not exchange a glance, but the second one spoke up, saying, "You say you're not 'buddy-buddy' with Miss Barnes. Could you elaborate on that a bit?"
"...not really."
"And why is that?" One of the two leans forward a bit to study me, and I half-turn away. It's good that I don't have a heartbeat or any nervous tics for them to jump on, but the mention of Emma and the scrutiny still makes me want to press bone spines out of my everywhere; maybe see if they like being needled. I doubt they're going to let me leave without answering, though, so I frown with the half of my face that's not withered and sigh again, blowing a stray lock of hair out of my face in the manner of surly teenagers everywhere.
"Oh. I get it."
"Get what, Miss Hebert?"
"What you're doing. If watching cape dramas on TV has taught me anything, it's that there's an easy way to tell who the secret villain is. I'll give you a hint," I say, and gesture at my face while dropping my voice into a stage whisper. "It's the ugly one."
* * *
Either the cops don't know if they can hold me without any charges or a confirmed criminal case, or they're reluctant to on account of my rather public history with abuse of authority, but either way I don't get handcuffed and marched out of Winslow. I am given a speech about not leaving town any time soon, and that they'll be in touch, and if there's anything that comes to mind about Emma I should give them a call, so once I get the opportunity to do so I end up hiding on the roof of the school and digging out my shiny new PRT phone to call Assault. He did say it was now his job to deal with my problems, or something close enough to that effect. After a couple of rings, he picks up. "Deadpan, what's up?"
"One of my classmates went missing and I'm the most suspicious-looking person in a five mile radius," I rasp. "Police already came by to ask me some stuff. Figured you should know."
"O-oh. Um. Okay... you're coming in after class, right? Why don't we talk about this then?"
"Fine," I say, and hang up. Getting all that questioning out of the way is probably better done sooner than later, and there's a bit of a silver lining: with this being so 'distressing' I'm willing to bet I can hang out on the roof of Winslow for the rest of the day instead of going to class. It's a nice day for it, too, with plenty of sun. It takes me a few minutes to figure out the specifics, but I hook a few strands of wriggling meat over the doorknob leading back into the school, to keep it closed and hopefully alert me of anyone trying to open it. That leaves me more or less safe to spread several thin puddles of flesh around the rooftop, and try to replicate the flowers I dreamed about. Maybe give shaping a meatrat another go, while I'm up here. All in all, a pleasant afternoon.
It's nice to feel whole.
Research Opportunity, choose one:
[ ]Channel Flesh
[ ]Chemical Compounds: Inorganics
[ ]Chemical Compounds: Combustion
[ ]Discorportion: Severance
[ ]Discorporation: Biohazard
[ ]Mimicry: Animal
[ ]Mimicry: Mechanical
* * *
Once I got to work and met up with Assault, the hero led me back to his tiny office and sat me down for another round of questioning. Though, this one would probably contain marginally less sarcasm; despite my quota, this was a bit serious. The PRT and Protectorate know I'm a zombie, after all. The police might think I have a motive for Emma's sudden failure to exist, but the PRT could think I have a means. I kept my flesh held tightly to my Taylor-shape, and chewed on my lip like I was nervous, and waited for Assault to get to the point.
"Okay," he finally took a breath, and leaned forward a bit over his desk. "Talk to me, kiddo. What's going on?"
"I told you. One of the kids at school didn't show up for a couple days, so the cops came and asked me about her."
"You mentioned. Did they talk to anyone else, or just you?"
"Probably the principal," I shrug. "Maybe a couple other people. But I didn't hear anyone else called to the office."
"Okay. What did they ask you?"
"Just… stuff. Things like if I'd seen or talked to her recently." I trail off for a few moments, then huff angrily. "They probably think I killed her or something."
"That's… a bit of a leap, Taylor. Why do you think that?" Assault's a person who trembles their legs when anxious. My feet are goo inside my shoes, where he can't see them, and I can feel the vibrations in tiny ripples.
"Well, 'cuz… because it's Emma. She's the one who did this to me," I run my hand down my face, the side with the withered lips, and I trace my smile for a moment. "Her and her friend, Sophia. And a couple hangers-on, too. So I guess I've got reason to want revenge."
Assault's leg goes very still halfway through that sentence, and even his hand twitches. He moves it to the arm of his chair. Hmm. "Well, I guess I can understand that. Do you want revenge, Taylor? I won't judge."
I don't believe for a second that's not a loaded question, but I'm also not sure what the correct answer is. Silence seems kinda damning, though, so after a long pause I lower my voice. "I don't know. Sometimes, yeah; I think about everything she did and said and I get pissed off. She was my best friend, before she met Sophia… so the fact that we were close made it hurt more when she broke away, y'know? Other times I just-- wish the whole thing had never happened at all."
"Yeah, that's-- that's rough, Taylor. I'm sorry."
I shrug again. Despite my attempts to keep still, I can feel the flesh around my spine twisting and rearranging, ready to lash out. I know it's important, but I don't like this conversation anymore. "I dunno. I try not to think about it."
"Okay," Assault's usual boisterous tone is absent. I have a bit of trouble trying to place what voice he's aiming for. "Well, there's no reason to think something like that has happened to her, so try not to let the cops get to you, okay? Is there anything else you think I should know, or that you want to talk about?"
Is there?
[ ]Yes: Confess to harassing Emma
[ ]No: I'd rather let the matter digest in peace
* * *
I finally let my flesh relax once I get out of Assault's office, and my spinal cord wastes no time in freeing itself from the confines of my skeleton. By the time I get to the Wards' Commons it's been repurposed into a stretchy whip protruding from the back of my head, with the remains of my coccyx sharpened into a spearhead. The long scythes that my wrists are fond of forming make it a little difficult to buzz myself in, but that's the tradeoff for dual-wielding the grim reaper, I guess.
I don't actually remember that my room is off-limits until I'm already in the common area, so I'm a bit thrown by finding both Armsmaster and someone else I don't recognize. The newcomer is probably an adult, and he's wearing a set of full-body armor made of oddly smooth metal or ceramic in different shades of white and pale grey. They stop what conversation they're involved in and look up as I approach. Maybe I should have worn my costume, instead of letting my giblets all hang out.
Armsmaster taps a pencil against the clipboard he's holding--even from here it looks like it's full of gibberish, much less math gibberish--and speaks first. "Deadpan, good timing. Sphere and I are going over the requirements for refurbishing your quarters. We could use some more samples of your acid to help choose the right alloy composition."
Huh. So that's Sphere. I didn't know he really worked with the Protectorate, I only ever hear about him building those underwater habitats and stuff. And I guess the quarantine domes, like up in Wisconsin. The Tinker walks towards me and extends a white-enameled hand; I shake it with a vestigial arm I push out of my stomach. He actually laughs. "Deadpan, huh? Nice to meet you. Exciting stuff, this-- Armsmaster tells me you've got a belly full of Nitric in concentrations it really shouldn't be at. I'm looking forward to testing it, I use Inconel 625 for the basis of a lot of my work, and developing a variant alloy to withstand your juices could have wonderful cross-applications for fission shielding and containment."
I… have no idea what this man is talking about. I mutter a quick agreement and then excuse myself to go check the Ward schedules, because at least on that the words make sense.
I could tolerate the company of someone who speaks English and doesn't ask questions:
[ ]Who? (Write-in)
[X]Chemical Compounds: Inorganics
[X]Yes: Confess to harassing Emma
[X] Clockblocker
[X]Yes: Confess to harassing Emma
[X] Clockblocker
Okibruez
(Verified Mid-Boss)
- Location
- Dreams
That went out the window day 1, when we got a shiny silver floating lady, instead of a shiny gold floating man.
And further down the block when Taylor got a mini-marker in her brain instead of QA.
[X]Discorportion: Severance
[X]No: I'd rather let the matter digest in peace
[X]Vista
Somehow, I don't think 'No: I'd rather let the matter digest in peace' is a bit more literal than the others expect.
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