WiR: We Can Make It - ch11Descending in the elevator was unnerving. The entire box seemed to shake in the shaft, rattling with the vibrations. The muffled roar of a guitar riff nearing its end became clearer and clearer as she sank, and by the time the ride shuddered to a stop, the music was over, leaving only hectic cheers and stomping feet. Make-It swallowed, not looking forward to dealing with the creepy figures of the fans.As the silvery doors slid open, her heart drew back just as quickly as she did against the far wall of the elevator. The featureless, pixelated people were packed so tightly in the massive room that it was a wonder any of them could even move,
WiR: We Can Make It - ch.10The next few days following her little talk with her cousin were emotionally trying and exhausting, but not entirely unpleasant. It took them all of three days to make it through the photo album, with how often they would stop at one particular memory and flesh it out together, laughing, sighing, just embracing their backstories. Remembering when she decided to leave her town was something that stuck out to her in particular. Her parents had been so angry and out of ideas on how to get her to behave that they managed to wrench the brush and bucket out of her hands. They might as well have torn off one of her limbs, she had thought, recallin
EriNep - Warmth"Wwell come on, it's not so bad." Nepeta watches the seadweller uncertainly. He is standing amongst the waves as they wash just beneath his shoulders, a depth that would easily be over her head. She swallows, peering down at the tide falling just short of her toes. "Trust me, Nep, I'vve spent my wwhole life livvin' out among these tides an' I'm still bloody wwell alivve," he continues in his watery accent, frowning impatiently with poorly-masked concern, "I'vve not met a wwavve that could take me dowwn an' you'vve got the most dexterity out of any land dwweller I'vve met. There's no reason to be scared." "Sure," she purrs back, "that'
Iron DepthsYou waded me deepInto sonorous brass cavernsHalf choked in stinging metal waters,Fondled my wristsAs our hips stirred togetherMotion implied by young whirlpools between.You have a history,A long story left behindIn this murk tainted with drops of time.Smother its waves,This damnable steel lake.Bleed me out to the marrow with your claws.Our perfect shriek,A chorus through the folds of caveSweeter echoed in the hollow of your throatMuffles crimson splashesAnd reminds the sweet swimmer thereOf the promise I rasped against your bones:My blood will keep you afloatAnd my breath is yours to takeWhen you find that your own has bee
Raven SkyDark wings curl behind sighs of cloudStreams of stardust swirling freeAll is done, all is dealtDemanding sunbeams laid to restAnd comfort blinking bashfullyIts glowing, flushed, radiant breathBeneath the feathers of raven skyAnd out of sight of weeping dayHangs as a fog between our feetCaresses ankles, bare and chillAnd lays me down within your reachTo shroud us from pale morning’s lightProtect us as we feign our sleep
RiseI am kneeling.Void falls around me as a loose silk, dropped, forgotten, too slight for gravity to even bother waking. Its air pushes and pulls through me. My dust hisses, stirs, gropes around for a new place to sleep. What pulse is in my body is hardly a flutter. A weary thrumming, strumming, steady and indifferent.There is hardly enough of me left to be worth the blood.My mouth is dry and rank as it creaks open and I taste the surrounding ash. It is bitter, heavy, the exhaust of a fire long since passed. I try to recall the embers. Remember the heat. Grasp at the living pain. The memory tastes worse than the ash.But it is a medicine
WiR: We Can Make It - ch9Apologies, curses, and incoherent noises poured from her mouth like the sickeningly hot tears on her cheeks. She could barely hear herself pleading against Turbo's red collar. The fans were shaking the whole console with their screams and the engines of the rival racers were drawing closer and closer to the finish line. What she could hear was Turbo. He stumbled awkwardly with the weight of her embrace, his arms twitching and flinching beside her. "Mavis, I'm not dead. I'm completely fine. How would you be nearly pushing me over if I were dead?" He stumbled backwards and bumped against his car. "Hello? Mavis? Are you gonna tell me what's w
WiR: We Can Make It - ch8Make-It awoke so slowly and gradually that it took her mind quite a while to correctly process reality. She was suspended in a patch of surprisingly thick clouds, using a particularly large, warm, soft, squishy cat as a pillow. Its paws were curled around her loosely, its muzzle nestled against her hair. What? No. Her brow twitched slightly. Where did she find a cat this big..? …No, no, she gave herself a tipsy, mental slap to the face. She was in a bed. Her pillow was Turbo. She had never really noticed how comfortable he was before. Vague memories of the night woke with the rest of her. She recalled traversing nearly every inch of the
WiR: We Can Make It - ch7Upon returning home and holing up in her basement once again, the rest of the day was nearly painful to stay awake for. She yawned, stumbled, grumbled, tripped, tumbled, and all around silently cursed Turbo for making her stay up all night. On any other day, being nocturnal would have been a breeze for her, but she desperately needed to finish a chore that she had been putting off. Her idea to construct an incinerator for her unwanted creations did not go unforgotten. Dealing with pyrotechnics, machinery, and potentially (literally) explosive artwork while deprived of sleep was not something she particularly thought safe. However, rubbing h
WiR: We Can Make It - ch6Barely an hour had passed by the time Make-It put the finishing touches on Turbo's face, drawing a darling little swirl on the tip of his nose. She sat back on his belly, stroked her chin, and observed her work. Candies, bonbons, trophies, hearts, and winking faces littered his skin along with as many words and gibberish as she could fit on his exposed flesh. "SWEET" across his forehead, "WEENIE'S CUP" across his cheeks, "facial hair" over his lip, "oooh", "oooh yes", "wow", "HEE HEE", "AAAAAA", "this is a shoulder", "ears here", "sleepy", "WAKE UP I'M BORED", and his lips glossed in a lovely black. It was a masterpiece if she had ever see
WiR: We Can Make It - ch5She stood at the Turbo-Time port, staring at the train waiting for her to climb aboard. The grinning image of Turbo on the side made her far more nervous than she found logical. Recalling all the times he had threatened mortally wounding harm against her, though, she supposed it made sense. What was she even going to say to him? An apology was not quite going to cut it, she imagined. And why was she even sorry? He was a little cuss who needed to be put in his place. But he was not put anywhere except a world of confusion and anger. A place quite similar to where Make-It currently found herself. She was not ready to face him. Not yet. Ma
WiR: We Can Make It - ch4The wind of the racers speeding past nearly threw Make-It off her balance. Turbo swore quite loudly as the others took off without him, but he was hot on their tails not a fraction of a second later. Turbo was utterly ruthless. He swerved and ground against the sides of the NPCs cars, directing them harshly off the track. He crashed quite deliberately into another, flipping him clear over and causing him to spin out and spawn back where the impact started. As Make-It flew overhead, she could hear him growling obscenities to himself and the other racers. With a cheerful barrel roll, she lowered to rush along beside his car. "Ahoy—WOAH!" S
Sta.sh
