If You See A Lily Pad, Think Of Me.

Yes yes yes! Will totally be showing up to this!!

Translation: Air Star Pride is welcoming you to a spooky pride parade!

October 27th at 8 pm Swedish time.

At the gate to Galloper's keep close to Moorland.

❤🧡💛💚💙💜

Thought I might as well post this here in case anyone on ssoblr got access to swedish server Air Star?

If you want to participate and join Air Star Pride's very own discord server, feel free to DM me.

“Do you have a clock yet?” Impulse asked.

It was a warm day, the bright sunlight sweetened by the gentle breeze off the sea. Everything was new, the next chapter in the life series, and yet, some things stayed the same.

Bdubs searched his inventory. “I don’t, actually, no!”

Tango made some joke about not being able to sleep away the night here, and under that cover of laughter and jokes, Impulse stole down to the rudimentary hole he, Tango, Skizz, and Etho were calling home. Perhaps it was a little silly, to use resources so frivolously like this, but Impulse didn’t care.

Every time Impulse made a clock, he was always surprised how easy the recipe really was. Some redstone, a bit of gold. It felt almost juvenile that such a simple thing held so much weight and history within it.

When the clock was finished, Impulse flipped open the lid and picked up a small knife someone had left around- probably Etho- and began scratching letters into the golden surface.

“Well, I better be off, I’m sure Scar and Cleo are missing me.” Impulse heard Bdubs say from above. He snapped the clock closed, panicked, and raced back up to the surface.

“Wait, Bdubs!” He thrust the clock into Bdubs’ hands. “For you. For old times sake, huh? And maybe a bit of a bribe to not target me.” Impulse laughed, and Bdubs smiled down at the clock.

“Oh, thank you, Impulse!” Bdubs replied, putting it in his off-hand. “For old time’s sake.”

——

“Listen, Bdubs, I have something for you.” Cleo said. It was, if Cleo had to guess, the last day the Clockers would be alive. They were all rushing around, gathering materials and weapons. “You don’t happen to have a clock, do you?”

“Uhh…” Bdubs dug in his pockets for a moment. “I do! Impulse gave it to me way back on the first day!”

“Of course he did.” Cleo muttered, rolling her eyes slightly. “Listen, we can give you a better one. Give it to me.”

Bdubs handed it over, and Cleo went down to their family anvil, ignoring Scar’s babbling.

It was a standard clock, she saw as she looked down at it properly, with a golden lid with a window to the top half of the clock- if you were in a rush, the top was all you needed to tell the time. Cleo took out her tools, and popped the lid, intending to carve something into the back side of the clock lid. It clicked open, revealing the simple sun and moon that told the time, and the scratchings that were already cut into the back of the lid.

For my soulmate -i

“Oh, Impulse.” Cleo murmured softly. She ran her thumb across the letters, tracing each one like she knew Impulse would have wanted someone else to do.

It was so painfully Impulse. Despite some mistakes in his past, he was sweet and kind and loving. And a bit of a bastard, but that was besides the point- weren’t they all. The clock was a given- of course it had been Impulse to give Bdubs a clock. It wasn’t hard to see how much Impulse adored him. And the inscription… Cleo sighed. There was no way that Bdubs had seen it. She brushed away the metal dust that marred the letters slightly; Impulse had probably been in a hurry and hasn’t had time to brush them off yet. Bdubs wouldn’t have let it sit in his pocket like that if he’d known… or maybe he would have. Bdubs was surprisingly unreadable sometimes.

She closed the lid gently, and flipped the clock over onto its back. There she carved out her own message for Bdubs.

mamma’s favourite boy

She buffed her carving with a cloth that looked like it had come from Scar’s shirt, until the gold shined. It wasn’t really about who loved Bdubs more- there’s more then one way to love a person, and no one was adored the way Bdubs was. He would carry two peoples love with him today. Even if he didn’t know it.

In my propaganda era

Keralis. you agree. reblog

LOOK AT WHAT ARRIVED TODAY

LOOK AT HIM! HES ADORABLE!

he’s watching me diamond paint

@theroboticscientist

Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths. You’re alive, your name is BigB, you’re a listener and your main residence is on a private server.

BigB shook his head. He knew who he was, so did he suddenly just… lose it?

Coughing broke the silence. He turned his head and saw Ren, hunched over and coughing like he was about to die again.

BigB didn’t have the energy to stand up. He looked at Ren.

Or, well, what had been Ren.

It wasn’t Ren anymore.

Just a huge eye, staring him down. It didn’t blink, and BigB didn’t dare to either. Silence followed, but can there really be silence when a giant eye is staring you down?

The eye narrowed. The purple iris flashed with different shades, making BigBs eyes hurt and he closed them.

He shouldn’t have closed them.

He knew he shouldn’t have closed them.

If there is one word that could describe what happened after, he would like to hear it. Mostly just felt like all your insides being torn out but through your mouth.

BigB flung his eyes open. There wasn’t one purple eye anymore, just about a hundred.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

He cowered back against the ground, curling up into a ball and closing his eyes again.

… what was his name again?

“You’re Tyniq,” a voice cut through the silence. “You know who you are.”

I know who I am. I know who I am. I’ve always known who I am.

But… no. My name isn’t Tyniq. Not anymore. What is my stupid name?

“Already told you. Tyniq.” The voice said again.

Stupid thoughts! Watchers can read minds!

“That you can remember.” The voice was closer now.

That I can remember.

Silence followed again. Whoever he was, whether his name was Tyniq or not, he didn’t know.

The silence was deafening. It must’ve lasted for years, because he could quickly not remember ever hearing sound.

Wings from his head. They must be some sort of instinct he didn’t know he had. The silence was even greater now, like some form of advanced hearing had come along and just made the whole situation worse.

It must’ve been a hand that grabbed one of the head-wings. What else could it be? A hand grabbed the other one too.

“Shouldn’t you be with us instead, Tyniq?” The voice came from nowhere, before the head-wings exploded into excruciating pain.

The greatest pain is removing that of what you live for.

Words: 415

Song inspo: Blow My Brains Out

Lyric: Unlucky me, aware of the pain, all cause I happen to have so brain

Can I... talk about the theory that winners help craft the next game?

Because, and I really can not say this enough, it puts So Much into perspective.

Everything starts out Normal. Three lives, simple, cut and dry, there hasn't been a winner yet. No one to help craft the game. (And there's something to be said about how simple it really was. Not even a real expectation of the world becoming pvp or combative. No idea of the war to come)

Then Grian wins. The green killer, the man who vowed his first life to the one whose life he took. The next game the boogie man is born. A mechanic that allows and, in fact, demands, a green kill. People can trade lives back and forth, currency and debt wrapped up in one. (can we still be friends? Said the red partner. A life time later and reds are hostile, alone. Maybe it's an answer: No. Not anymore)

Scott wins this time. He refuses to play the game. He will not kill his team, he will love and he will do so fiercely and with all of himself. The next game people are attached through to their very souls. Every bit of damage to one soul is done to its twin. There is no boogeyman. (There is no way for a widow to be left without their love)

Pearl wins and she wins a blood bath. Spent the game draped in red, only wolves for company. Sitting in her tower, shivering in ice, maybe she wanted it to end. To see where it would. Limited life rewards you for killing, limited life has a clock tick tick ticking down, you always no how long you have. A curse yes, but a blessing too.

Now It's Martyn's turn.

And what a turn it is.

Keep your secrets, says the disloyal man, keep them well. Everything hurts, everything Matters, says the man fracturing with every loss. (What if we could love each other without hurting? Says The Hand, who never wanted to be coated in blood)

More importantly, Martyn has always seen the watchers below the surface. Now, they're right here in front of him. Something that could almost... be rebelled against, no? Something that someone else could finally point to and say: hey, hey isn't that familiar?

Yes

so we've all agreed to draw scars next life series character with a bun/ponytail right

Yesssssss! I’m so happy he’s finally getting the attention he DESERVESSSSS

Watch skizzleman<3333333

true

you know I think an underrated docm77 character trait is that he DOES sometimes have exactly the same sense of humor as a third grader, which is very funny coming out of a middle-aged german father.