Atrophy

Recollections: The Coven [COMPLETED]

This RP is like coming across a dumpster of manure that's on fire when you're a hobo in the dead of winter who lost their old, patched-up coat.

Recollections: The Coven [COMPLETED]

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Vashti tapped a finger against her chin to think of another idea after Emily revealed that what Vashti had suggested was equivalent to telling someone with clinical depression that they should just try being happy. A tick Apparition? If it was literally the size of a tick, it would be damn near impossible to just find out in swamp country. Vashti eyes drifted to follow a server carrying a tray of food, losing their luster as it passed by their table without stopping, and then she quickly glanced back at Emily. Now wasn’t the time to worry about her stomach, even if the last thing she remembered eating was just the empty calories of a DQ Blizzard and, possibly, part of an engine.

Herik had a better idea. Vashti sat up straighter in her seat as he explained that there were Adepts who could deal with curses. Maybe if they found one to help Emily’s sister that Adept could also, in turn, help Vashti with her Leviathan problem. Herik suggested getting in contact with Kimberly, and Vashti lifted her feet and tucked them under herself to boost herself up even higher as Emily expressed her uncertainty

“She’s totally legit!” shouted Vashti, her excitement a little too high when compared to the average peaks of the typical Red Lobster diner. Her chair rocked back dangerously on two legs before it settled down as she pointed a finger at Emily. “I know from first hand experiences when she helped me. Temporarily, anyway, but that’s not her—whatever! I have her number!”

Except Kimberly’s number had been lost. Vashti shoulders dropped and her face tightened, “I had her number. But it shouldn’t be hard to get in touch with her, right Herik? I’m sure Agatha would give us her number, or we could just try getting in touch with her through a fansite.”

Recollections: The Othergrounds [Complete]

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There were maybe three entire seconds of silence before Odessa uncomfortable laughter echoed around the steps of the bank, but it only took Penny one of those seconds to instantly regret what she had just done. She took a step down as if that would help her uncross the line and relaxed her fists. Her face was still pained and contorted, but the red was more from embarrassment than anger and her blue eyes glistened. As Odessa moved to comfort Stacey, Penny quickly wiped away the tears as if her cool facade hadn’t already been trampled underfoot by her outburst. Still, if she apologized quickly enough maybe the boy wouldn’t spiral out into another panic attack.

“Sta—”

"Fuck you too, Penny! Caelea's better off dead with a piece of shit friend like you!"

Stacey’s words were a dagger to the chest. Penny jerked back like she’d actually been stabbed and nearly lost her balance, just barely catching herself on the railing as her mouth fell down in her stead. If it had been anyone else she would’ve screamed back, hell, she would’ve rushed them down and made them shit out those words, but with it coming from Stacey it had stunned her. Penny never imagined he had that kind of fire inside him. She clicked her tongue as she closed her mouth and avoided looking at Odessa. Penny believed Stacey was right about one thing: she was a piece of shit friend.

Still holding herself upright with the railing, Penny hung her head and hid her face with her free hand as she lost the battle with her tears. Her shoulders shuddered as she silently sobbed. Stacey’s words resonated with an idea that had already been forming in her mind, fertilizing the seed of a thought and turning it into a great oak tree with gnarled branches that overshadowed anything else in her mind. Penny bit her lip to keep it from quivering and smeared the sleeves of her sweater back and forth over her eyes in a hapless attempt to clean her messy face. Penny lifted her head and looked up at Odessa, determination and certainty shining through her bloodshot eyes.

“He’s not wrong. I am a shit friend. Caelea isn’t the first...” Penny frowned. She let go of the railing and balled her hand as she blew off the bitter memory. She had avenged them. She would do the same now. Penny turned and began to descend the bank steps. She paused only to look back and, with a wry smile, say, “Odessa, could you pass a message on for me? When the others ask where Penny went, tell them she’s gone to bury a friend.”

The Night Shift - Gas Station Horror Simulator (OPEN)

I gonna invest my Bork Bucks like a goddamn adult. That way in twenty years I can cash them out for a sick spider ring, a bouncy ball, and three strangely warm, slightly damp Tootsie Rolls.

R E D U X .// 2047 //.

Maysah’s face wrinkled into a smile at the sight of the Tower wearing an Old Glory t-shirt. She was somewhat disappointed that the Brit didn’t try his hand at imitating a southern fried accent to completely sell the disguise. Unless, worried Maysah, that it wasn’t a disguise but rather just what the Tower thought was fashionable, and perhaps his suitcase was packed with designs of maple leaves, rising suns, and three legs. She tugged at the sleeves of her white wool sweater , noting the hypocrisy in her critiquing another’s choice of clothing.

The Tower asked the only question that needed to be asked: why were they doing this? Maysah’s answer was different from the one Arbiter gave out. For starters, just because Hex wasn’t wrong often didn’t mean he was never wrong. Harrison was the one to convince her that the best course of action after the corps made their move against her was to disappear and live the last twelve years of her life as an useless husk. More importantly, if the drone had the kind of information on it that Peterson said it did then Carolex deserved to have it swiped out from underneath their noses. Her eyes narrowed as the man himself joined their table. She wasn’t so sure that Peterson deserved to have the drone, either.

“To form a true plan, I'll need to know your abilities.“

“Some information broker,” said Maysah as she leaned back in her seat and folded her arms as Arbiter spoke up.

“...Technomancy, if you want to get technical," he finished.

“Cute,” said Maysah.

She had eyed Arbiter with suspicion as he spoke. It was nice to hear him admit that there was more to him than a haircut and a suit of armor, but the truth was all a little too late. Her eyes darkened. Could he have possibly been the one too—she shook the thought to the back of her head. Accusing Arbiter could wait for after they had stolen the drone. She didn’t want their infighting to destroy what small chance they had to get information surrounding the mystery of Hex’s death. Maysah also didn’t want to answer the question.

“The big guy does exactly what he looks like he does,” said Maysah, flippantly jerking a thumb over to the Tower. He was capable of a lot more than her oversimplification implied, but she’d leave that up to the Tower if he wanted to actually elaborate. “I’m your typical quick, blaster type with a master’s in aerospace engineering and a bad habit of breaking any piece of technology I touch."

"Really, I wouldn’t pick either of us to come to a surprise party, let alone sneak into a corporate headquarters to steal a macguffin. I’d apologize for ruining any plans, but thankfully there isn’t one yet,” said Maysah with a wink. She put her elbows on the table, laced her fingers together, and rested her chin on them. “On the bright side, I doubt we’ll have any trouble handling what comes next once we cock up whatever brilliant plan you expect us to just whip together in under an hour.”

At least they would have no trouble unless they drew the attention of Envoy, that is, but some things were better left unsaid.

Recollections: The Othergrounds [Complete]

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“I think it’ll have to do, won’t it?” said Penny, looking sullen as she stared at the marker in her hand. She still felt defeated, but if Caelea actually did become an Apparition then it was nice to know that Apparitions like the Nurturing Will existed. Odessa’s story had given Penny some of her fleeting hope back. It wasn’t exactly what she had hoped for, but it was more than she had expected. Penny sighed and leaned back on the stairs.

“I’m from Shimmer,” said Penny. So, Paradise brought in people from different universes. “Hagan, Zoey, Caelea, we’re all from a town called Farmer Hill. We’re students at this dumb academy. That League of yours was using our town as a prison for this thing called the Glutton, this world-eating son of a bitch masquerading as a God. Things went to shit as they tend to do, it tried to kill a bunch of us, and we eventually unmade the damn thing. Everything got reset, but it was hard to go back to a normal life after that, you know?”

“Guess what I’m trying to say is that I get feeling lost and I get not knowing who I really am. I know I had a life before everything with the Glutton but the further I get away from it all the less and less of it I remember,” said Penny. Her childhood and early teen years were nothing but shredded images. She couldn’t tell if the loss was just part of growing older or something more dire. “The real sad thing is that fighting things like the Glutton might be the only thing I’m actually any good at.”

And she wasn’t even that good at it as her mind looped the image of Caelea getting ripped in two. Penny leaned forward and choked out, “What’s really frustrating is that because of that everyone just looks to me like I know what the fuck I’m doing when I don’t have a goddamn clue when it comes to any of this shit!”

She closed her eyes and knitted her brow as an old, familiar anger boiled inside of her. No, it wasn't just starting to heat up. It had been bubbling for a while like a volcano primed to explode. Odessa didn’t ask to hear any of this, but Penny had to vent. She couldn’t hold in her disgust any longer. Zoey and Hagan should’ve stopped Caelea. Caelea shouldn’t have been an idiot and try to talk to something that had attempted to kill them. Penny shouldn’t have been stupid enough to let them be on their own. The others shouldn’t have distracted her. Just one little release of the pressure and she’d be fine. She knew Odessa would be able to handle it. She seemed unflappable, perhaps one of the positive traits of giving up her humanity.

“Like, I try—”

"Uh, could I get some help? It started glowing when I played and I don't know what'll happen if I sing what I wrote," said Stacey as he walked down to the girls.

He could not have had worse timing in the world.

“Stacey!”

There was no hiding the seething annoyance in her voice as Penny jumped to her feet and turned to glare at the boy. She felt like she was his goddamn mom the way he always ran to her when he had the slightest of problems. Couldn’t he bother someone else for once? She didn’t even notice the glowing guitar as she raised her hand holding the marker and cocked it behind her head.

“Fuck!”

She chucked the marker downward with frustration. It repulsed away from her and exploded into a mist of black ink at the boy’s feet. Any higher and it would've hit him, doing who knows what kind of damage. Penny hands morphed into fists as she shoved them down to her side and took one step towards the boy. Her face was red, puffy, and twisted into an hateful, ugly expression of pure rage and utter revulsion like she’d just stepped into a pile of dogshit. From the way her hands were shaking, it seemed apparent that she was going to be scrapping something on the concrete. She took one more step towards Stacey and screamed the loudest she has ever in her life, spittle flying out of her jaws like a rabid animal.

“OFF!”

Recollections: The Coven [COMPLETED]

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A ravenous grin popped on Vashti’s face as Herik suggested that they would, in fact, get the pizza crime. A grin that was quickly smacked off of Vashti’s face as Herik reached over and patted Emily on the hand. She chastised herself for the spike of jealousy. He was only comforting the girl who was concerned for her sister. Vashti was respectful enough to sit still and shut up as the two revealed that someone in their family had been hospitalized. She picked at the table as Herik ordered the food, the initial excitement of having a smorgasbord of garbage to dive into defeated by the talk of real problems.

“I mean, surely there’s something we can do,” said Vashti, her eyes brightening. She’d joined the Coven to get help for herself. The thought that the others had joned to help her family just made her feel selfish. Would she go through the trouble to help out a family member? The fact that the answer wasn’t an instant yes made her let out a tiny, regretful sigh. “Not to sound cheesy, but isn’t that the point of the Coven? To help out one another in a time of need?”

Vashti turned to Emily and gave her a reassuring smile, “I’m sure there’s something we can do! I’m not going to pretend like I know a lot about this stuff”—she was more familiar with aliens and bigfoots than Apparitions and Extra-Normals—“but what if we tried to track down the Apparition and use it to find a way to reverse your sister’s curse. Like creating an antivenom from the snake that bit you, you know?”

However, if it was just money that Emily needed, well, Vashti had money. But, like the Leviathan, she was going to keep that to herself for the moment.

The Night Shift - Gas Station Horror Simulator (OPEN)

July Welch had a thought once. Actually, July has had many thoughts in his twenty-seven years of breathing, eating, and sleeping, perhaps even up there in the few dozens. Still, only one of those thoughts came back to him now as he pushed his Honda Civic up to almost sixty miles per hour, the engine screaming for an oil change that’d be pushed off for a few thousand more miles still. The thought had been born back in his touring days with his band, the Mothers of Babylon. They’d piled into Stew’s old Astro Van and had taken a pit stop at some random gas station along the stretch of a highway for a leak and a spicy chicken sandwich when July made the astute observation that unless the workers had a bungalow outback then they actually were willing to make the drive out here every day to sling chicken sandwiches to road randos. He’d laughed at the thought back then. What kind of loser would choose to work in the middle of nowhere for barely more than minimum wage?

The thought still made him chuckle as he drove to his job in the middle of Nowhere where he was making barely more than minimum wage. The key difference between July and those other losers was that, unlike them, this loser hadn’t made a choice. His mom had. Besides, this was just a transition period . Today he’d be running a register, tomorrow he’d be registering for a spot in an art gallery. Ignoring how he’d also need to make art, he just needed to find a gallery. All the ones he had checked out so fair were commercialist bullshit fronted by wannabe hipsters that only signed on their friends. They were the kind of place to hang up posters of future Hallmark cards, not a place for his true art that was still only in his head.

A psychopath in a big rig driving seventy passed him with their horn blaring, although July didn’t notice it over the sound of a distorted guitar holding a sustain continued to rattle the life out of his speakers and his eardrums. So he was a bit of a slow driver, so what? He wasn’t late and bad driving had put an end to his aforementioned tour. It hadn’t been five hours before Stew had wrecked the van, effectively killing the tour that was going to last one more hour getting there, plus thirty minutes of playing, and then six hours back to their hometown. July may have left over creative differences, but the death of the van killed what momentum they had and made it so that leaving was the only smart option. Who knows where he would’ve been if the tour had gone off without a hitch. Perhaps he’d be playing right before the headliners instead of being the opening act.

The foreboding note ended and was immediately followed up by the exact same chord that was somehow darker sounding. It was the kind of note that evoked images of pagan sacrifice on the darkest nights of the coldest winters. July felt a chill run down his spine. This music right here was the exact kind the world would hear when the trumpets were blown to call forth armageddon. Pure, earth-shattering doom. What a jam! He had been dreading it earlier, but the tunes had absolutely energized him for the night shift. Between bites of burger and sips of a flat Coke he shrieked along with the guttural vocals in perfect disharmony.

The Gas-Way Express appeared on the horizon, the ever slight haze of leaked gas making it shift like a mirage. The gas station was a shining beacon in the cold darkness of the I-205, the last bastion for all things human, inhuman, and automobile to refuel. The sight of it made July’s face sour, or perhaps that was from the dirty bomb of odor that was released through his car when he tossed the burger wrapper into the mass grave of wrappers, for some reason saved as if they were the skins of an animal from a great hunt, in the backseat and had managed to knock free the one wrapper that was keeping the rot contained. July was thrown into a coughing fit as he turned into the Parking Lot, the ghosts of burgers past assaulting him for his food crimes.

He parked next to another car, cracked the windows, and killed the engine. The screaming drone of music died in the arms of the Civic as July stumbled out of the car while coughing into his hand and looking like a man possessed. July took a moment to catch his breath and then, upon realizing that he didn’t really enjoy having it, lit up a cigarette. There were still a few minutes before his shift according to the slow clock on his dashboard, so he wouldn’t have to bother himself with taking care of the tiny dolls in line he had spied through the windows just yet. He sucked in on the cigarette and then exhaled the cloud of smoke. He tapped his black fingernails against the filter, sending red embers that drifted through the Parking Lot like will-o’-the-wisps. July reckoned he was far enough away from the pumps to be safe from sparking a gas fire. If not, he was close enough to his car to save himself.

The cigarette was on its last legs and the line had only just begun to move, but July was unconcerned with the present. Like any man who found themselves in a dead-end job, he was looking for a way to give himself a brighter future. Namely, he was looking for a way to not have to drive home in a smelly car. The solution was a simple one. July opened the back doors of the Civic, drew in his breath, and gave the mountain of wrappers a massive shove. They surged forward like a tidal wave and poured onto the pavement like an avalanche. A few more shoves and the backseat was clear, and a couple of deft kicks shimmied a majority of the balled-up wrappers into the free parking spot next to July. His problem was now the Pump Attendant’s problem. It was the way life should be. He craned his neck to see if he had gotten away with his crime and smiled. He was truly a mastermind.

Except there was one small problem. July’s eyes widened in horror as he realized the one hitch in his perfect plan and looked through the cracked window of his car to the red Gas-Way vest that had been stewing inside of the biome for days now. It’d smell like old burgers for sure. A dead giveaway to the yokels who worked here, where playing What’s That Smell? qualified as entertainment. He tugged at the collar on his black button up shirt. Crap. July did some quick thinking and came up with a plan. He hurried to the front door, stopping only for just one more cigarette break as he reached the side of the building, and then rushed inside.

July almost bumped into the happiest looking trucker in the world who, upon seeing July’s post-modern vampire cosplay, instantly shifted his face towards disgust. It happened again as he dipped between a middle-aged woman waiting in line. She looked as if she had just been told the most wonderful and earnest of compliments in her life, but when July quietly apologized the look she gave him made him feel as if he had been the root cause of everything she hated about herself. As he ducked around a display of jerky he saw the woman’s gaze turn back to the front of the line and her face return to a state of serene bliss. July followed the look and saw that Rory was running the register. He smiled and forgot all about the dirty looks those squares had given him.

Wait, why was he standing around? Rory was too busy being amazing to even notice that July had slipped in like a shadow. July turned on his feet and entered the breakroom. His eyes scanned the coat hangers like an owl on the hunt for a field mouse and he charged forward like a bull at the sight of the red vest. He ripped the article of clothing off of the hanger, threw it on over his clothes, and took a quick look at the nametag still pinned to the chest. Jenn? He could live with being a Jenn. Jenn probably had a savings account. He ran his fingers through his hair and took a look at the note pinned to the corkboard. Refill the slushie machine before tomorrow? Tomorrow as in the tomorrow after today, or tomorrow as in the tomorrow after their shift? It was a confusing note. Unclear. He could probably use that as an excuse not to do it.

July punched the clock like a happy worker drone, cocking an eyebrow at the timestamp suggesting that it was already after ten. The clock must’ve been broken, because he was certain that he wasn’t late. July strolled out of the breakroom like a man marching to his own grave and shuffled behind the counter towards the register like a mummy. The employees only spot was his sarcophagus, the wall of cigarettes were the canopic jars full of his useless organs, and the take a penny, leave a penny was his faithful cat that his followers had seen fit to also kill for some religious reason instead of just taking it to an animal shelter.

Rory, Anubis, the one who could free him from what would be a night of suffering by sending him home early, was looking wistfully out the window. What was he looking for? Past the pumps was only the dark void of Nowhere. Before he could think to clear his throat to not startle the man, July’s face appeared in the reflection of the void looming over Rory’s shoulder like Nosfreatu about to bite down into the neck of a young, pretty actor. July halted at the sight of his own face which, when compared to Rory’s angelic features and handsome jawline, needed to have a bag thrown over it, ideally one without any holes and made of plastic. God, life was truly unfair. July felt terrible that Rory would even have to look at him.

“Oh, hey, sorry if I scared you, boss,” said July, his voice surprisingly soft and sweet for a tall man who heavily smoked cigarettes and used to regularly destroy his vocal cords through guttural screams. He smiled as the lie came through his lips so naturally that it felt like July was telling Rory how nice his hair looked today. “Do you know who’s on lot duty tonight? Some customer dumped a bunch of trash in the Parking Lot and just the thought of all that litter ruining the environment makes my heart break. I would do it myself, but...” He gestured to the register and the empty line. “Well, you know, gotta be here for any of our wonderful customers.”

The Night Shift - Gas Station Horror Simulator (OPEN)

I've made decent progress on a post myself. Shouldn't take too much to finish it up, but I might wait on @Firecracker_ to post before I completely wrap it up.

Although I do imagine the rest of the crew will have fought for the privilege to open up the door for our most wonderful assistant manager.

Recollections: The Othergrounds [Complete]

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Penny laid on a sofa with her hands behind her head with her eyes closed, but she didn’t fall asleep. She waited an indeterminate amount of time for her head to stop throbbing as she thought over what Odessa had said about the Pit. Naturally, like anything supernatural Penny had dealt with, it sounded terrifying. How did the girl know about it? Odessa had said something to Zoey earlier about being Adjoined, about being fused with an Apparition. Penny sighed. She was trying her best to get a grasp on the Extra-Normal, but she was still an amateur at best. Thinking about it made her head hurt in a different way, but it was better than letting her mind replay the loop of Caelea getting murdered.

Penny waited until she heard a soft choir of heavy breathing from the others and sat up. Thankfully, the spots were gone and the stark white interior of the bank no longer looked like a well-lit roller rink on disco night. She looked around the room and did a quick headcount, her face growing dark as she realized they were missing Lilith. Shit. Penny pulled her orange cardigan tight around her and poked around the lobby to see if the girl had wandered off or gone to the bathroom. Nothing. The bank was silent except for her footfalls, the light hum of the AC, and the collective snoozing of the strangers.

Wait, was Odessa still outside? Penny’s footsteps echoed more loudly as she hurried to the front door and pushed it open. She heaved a sigh of relief as she saw the girl in the orange robe sitting patiently at the bottom of the steps. For a moment, she had thought that Odessa also would’ve been spirited away. Penny jogged down the steps and took a seat next to the strange girl. She plucked the marker from her mouth and tapped it with her finger like she was ashing a cigarette. Penny kept toying with the marker as she broke the news that she was certain Odessa already knew, “Lilith’s gone.”

Penny slumped forward with her elbows on her knees and groaned. Things just kept getting worse. They were stuck in a weird dream city. Two of the strangers were missing, possibly dead. Caelea was fucking dead and a smoke monster was running around in her skinsuit. The desire to go steal Zoey’s pack and smoke all of them was riding high in Penny right now. She inhaled deeply, sat up while pushing her hair back, exhaled, and eloquently observed, “This fucking sucks.”

“Hey, thank you again for saving me back there,” said Penny, turning to Odessa and offering her half of a defeated smile. “I seriously owe you, like, seriously...which is what makes this part right here suck even more…” Penny’s eyes narrowed as her face twisted in disgust. “But how the fuck do you know all of these things? Who are you, really?” Penny shook. “Don’t give me some vague bullshit, either. I want everything. Give me the goddamn details. All of them.”

“Please,” said Penny, her voice breaking as her face softened. She wasn’t angry. She was scared. “Please. I already trust you, it’s...I just need to know why.”