This son of a hitch is still following you. It isn't easy to turn around and hiss at someone while you're retching, but you manage it anyway because you have never felt so humiliated and scared and angry and confused in your life. Your eyes are streaming washed-out olive, and your vomit is laced with dark green splotches that might suggest internal bleeding that you don't quite care about right now.
You don't want to trust him. Maybe it's the ridiculous, inexplicable caliginous feelings (inexplicable what?) that surfaced when you fought this troll. Maybe it's just well-placed fear of pretty much all trolls. But your pride hasn't gotten you anywhere. In fact, you're fairly sure it's dead. Plus, maybe letting this dude help you will result in something like your fan fictions.
But definitely not the red half. Never the red half.
"You just killed the person who was once your mother. That's probably going to leave you with lasting psychological damage. Now... in all likelihood, your sister's pretty fucking far gone by now. It won't hurt me as much to beat up some kid I never even met."
Then she shrugged. "Your choice though, I fuckin' guess."
It was a day like any other in this sleepy suburb of Phoenix, although slightly different in the best of ways; that is, there was no school. This meant two important things for Rich: one, he didn’t have to face his numerous bullies and risk getting his ass handed to him, and two, he was now free to do much more important tasks than schoolwork. He ran a Facebook page dedicated to old-fashioned but still very dank memes, and with thirty-three likes (and steadily growing), any spare moment to maintain his personal meme garden was a blessing.
In the middle of captioning a lolcat, however, his Pesterchum dinged softly and notified him that he was being messaged. After hurriedly finishing the very old-style content, Rich opened the chat client and was pleased to see that his best friend and neighbor Alex was pestering him, although he would never admit that. His voice got him called gay enough without him being sentimental about people. Not that Alex knew about his school situation. Best it stayed that way.
-- ratifiedRebel [RR] began pestering memeticPhallus [MP] at 11:24 --
RR: Hey.
MP: hi whassup
RR: First of all, can I just reiterate how much I really hate your handle?
MP: theres nothing wrong with my handle
RR: It's kind of immature tbh.
MP: no it isnt
RR: It is, but okay. Anyway, did your copy of SBURB come yet?
Rich blinked slowly at his computer. He’d forgotten that he’d even had that thing ordered, and frankly, it didn’t seem like a terribly remarkable game–– apart from its promise that players would be able to control their friends’ houses. Much of his reason for agreeing to play was, in fact, curiosity.
MP: i havent checked
RR: But it's noon.
MP: it is? MP: oh it is
RR: Yes. RR: It is. RR: Can you go check?
MP: right now??
RR: Well, yeah. RR: I'm gonna ask Abbi if she got hers.
The “okay” meme very obviously implied hesitant agreement to do something. It was like a contract, and since Rich had signed it by using the meme, he had no choice but to rise from his desk and slip down the stairs and outside. The flag on the side of the mailbox was down, however, which he only realized after he’d stepped into the horrifyingly hot outside environment and felt the sun sucking the life force out of him. Disappointed, he hurried back inside.
Alex was being terribly weird about talking to their mutual internet friend, Abbi. What was so difficult about it, he wondered? She was just like most other people. In fact, she was better, because even though she could be mean sometimes, Rich could tell that she didn’t talk to him solely to belittle him.
Or maybe she did.
It was hard to tell these things.
Alex was taking awhile to respond. Rich made a couple of half-hearted memes about Communism before their (abridged) conversation resumed.
MP: man i hope my copy gets here soon MP: wait MP: maybe my aunt took the mail in oh no
RR: Go ask her.
MP: i cant just do that she thinks i should always be doing homework or reading or something
RR: I don't think she'll punish you for asking about the mail. RR: Come on, Richie. RR: Please.
It was a terrifying prospect to ask his aunt if she’d seen a small package labelled SBURB. She was not a woman who even liked cartoon violence––not even Spyro the Dragon. Somehow the thought of not getting his hands on that game (not Spyro, SBURB) was worse.
MP: yeah i should ask soon or she might return it MP: brbrbrbrbrb
RR: Okay, awesome.
Rich cracked his knuckles and stood one more time from his desk chair. Time to do this. He skittered down the stairs and arrived in the kitchen, where, alas, the perfect, mint-condition copy of SBURB lay on the counter amid boring, adult-looking envelopes. Where was Aunty?
Just grab it before she sees you.
He’d clutched the smooth, plastic box when her shrill voice made him jump.
“Richie, is that the new game the kids are playing these days?”
Lie. Lie. Lie.
“Um, well, yeah, but––it’s––for school?”
“For school?”
“Yeah. Yeah. It’s, like, an educational thing…”
“What’s it educating you about?” She sounded doubtful.
“I dunno, I uh, I think it’s about how––how the Universe formed,” Rich spluttered out the first thing that popped into his head, “like, the Big Bang or something.”
“What’s it rated?”
“E. For everyone. Haha.”
Rich felt like all the tension he’d built up through his life was released when his aunt gave an approving smile and said, “Alright, Richie, but tell me what you learn, okay?”
“Okay,” he squeaked.
No sooner had he sat down and briefly celebrated his deceptive victory with Alex, when another Pesterchum notification popped up.
-- cronicallyTechnical [CT] began pestering memeticPhallus [MP] at 15:12 --
CT: C//:>1've been 0n the 0ther end 0f sh1ty th1ngs because 0f wh0 1 am and what 1'm l1ke
MP: really
CT: C//:>and what 1'm d01ng w1th y0u 1s c0mpleatly unrelated wh0 y0u are 0r what y0u l1ke CT: C//:>1t has everyth1ng t0 d0 w1th the game y0u are ab0ut t0 play
MP: so you're bullying me over a game
CT: C//:>guess s0 CT: C//:>aga1n CT: C//:>n0t really my 1dea CT: C//:>1'm just b0ard CT: C//:>l1ke 1mp0ss1bly b0ard
Name: Rich Hudson Species: Human Gender: Dude Age: 13 Derse or Prospit?: Derse Fetch Modus: Strife Specibus: “toy”kind Weapon: A giant dildo Game Entry Item: A Bonsai fig tree Sprite: Probably something memey Exile: ? Server Player: Abbi Yaylon Client Player:? Title: Page of Light Active or Passive?: Medium: Land of Weasels and Libraries Denizen: Cetus
Human-Specific Information:
Eye Color: Brown Hair Color: Blonde Skin Tone: Tan Symbol: A crudely-drawn ferret Guardian: Crazy aunt (“Aunty”) Home: A typical, suburban house next to Alex’s. Chumhandle: memeticPhallus Typing style: he usually types in all lowercase, unless he wants to EMPHASIZE SOMETHING Sexuality: Demisexual Relationship status: LUL WAT??
General Appearance: (All characters must fill out from here down!)
Do they need to wear glasses or contacts?: Glasses If yes, are they nearsighted or farsighted?: Nearsighted They should wear their glasses, but do they always?: Nope! Weight: idfk but kinda chub Height: 5’5 Notable features: A bit of acne on his cheeks and chin Hair: A huge, blonde mess. Disabilities/Health Concerns: N/A
Personality:
Biggest goal: Before Sburb, to become Famous On The Internet™ Greatest fear: Failure/being ostracized Darkest secret: Occasional suicidal thoughts Does anyone know?: Nope Greatest strength: Compassion! Greatest weakness: Has a hard time being serious Greatest accomplishment:Creating and maintaining a YouTube Channel consisting of intentionally shitty kazoo covers Biggest regret: Avoiding talking genuinely about feelings Are they more aggressive, assertive, or passive?: Passive, but will develop toward being more assertive later on Are they emotional or stoic?: Somewhere in the middle but more on the emotional side Which do they trust more, their head or their heart?: Heart Are they an introvert or extrovert?: Extrovert
"For––for fuck's sake," muttered Mattie, her hands shaking as she bent and picked the crowbar back off. It'd been a stupid decision to throw it down. The noise had probably alerted this douchebag's zombified sister as to their location. She could toss it later. Preferably at him (yeet). For now, it seemed, there was possibly an undead kid to deal with, and after that, Mattie figured it best to leave.
Logically. The pity eating at her meant it would be harder in practice.
"Okay," she said, putting her free hand briefly to her forehead. "I'll look for her and you can burn this corpse."
"I feel so fu– so free right now," you hiss, and just like that, you hobble out the door of this strange hive. You can see some wide pairs of eyes through the windows of other hives, and you do your darndest to ignore them.
It's a lot easier to feel self-conscious when you're doubled over and vomiting, though.
It was a day like any other in this sleepy suburb of Phoenix, although slightly different in the best of ways; that is, there was no school. This meant two important things for Rich: one, he didn’t have to face his numerous bullies and risk getting his ass handed to him, and two, he was now free to do much more important tasks than schoolwork. He ran a Facebook page dedicated to old-fashioned but still very dank memes, and with thirty-three likes (and steadily growing), any spare moment to maintain his personal meme garden was a blessing.
In the middle of captioning a lolcat, however, his Pesterchum dinged softly and notified him that he was being messaged. After hurriedly finishing the very old-style content, Rich opened the chat client and was pleased to see that his best friend and neighbor Alex was pestering him, although he would never admit that. His voice got him called gay enough without him being sentimental about people. Not that Alex knew about his school situation. Best it stayed that way.
-- ratifiedRebel [RR] began pestering memeticPhallus [MP] at 11:24 --
RR: Hey.
MP: hi whassup
RR: First of all, can I just reiterate how much I really hate your handle?
MP: theres nothing wrong with my handle
RR: It's kind of immature tbh.
MP: no it isnt
RR: It is, but okay. Anyway, did your copy of SBURB come yet?
Rich blinked slowly at his computer. He’d forgotten that he’d even had that thing ordered, and frankly, it didn’t seem like a terribly remarkable game–– apart from its promise that players would be able to control their friends’ houses. Much of his reason for agreeing to play was, in fact, curiosity.
MP: i havent checked
RR: But it's noon.
MP: it is? MP: oh it is
RR: Yes. RR: It is. RR: Can you go check?
MP: right now??
RR: Well, yeah. RR: I'm gonna ask Abbi if she got hers.
The “okay” meme very obviously implied hesitant agreement to do something. It was like a contract, and since Rich had signed it by using the meme, he had no choice but to rise from his desk and slip down the stairs and outside. The flag on the side of the mailbox was down, however, which he only realized after he’d stepped into the horrifyingly hot outside environment and felt the sun sucking the life force out of him. Disappointed, he hurried back inside.
Alex was being terribly weird about talking to their mutual internet friend, Abbi. What was so difficult about it, he wondered? She was just like most other people. In fact, she was better, because even though she could be mean sometimes, Rich could tell that she didn’t talk to him solely to belittle him.
Or maybe she did.
It was hard to tell these things.
Alex was taking awhile to respond. Rich made a couple of half-hearted memes about Communism before their (abridged) conversation resumed.
MP: man i hope my copy gets here soon MP: wait MP: maybe my aunt took the mail in oh no
RR: Go ask her.
MP: i cant just do that she thinks i should always be doing homework or reading or something
RR: I don't think she'll punish you for asking about the mail. RR: Come on, Richie. RR: Please.
It was a terrifying prospect to ask his aunt if she’d seen a small package labelled SBURB. She was not a woman who even liked cartoon violence––not even Spyro the Dragon. Somehow the thought of not getting his hands on that game (not Spyro, SBURB) was worse.
MP: yeah i should ask soon or she might return it MP: brbrbrbrbrb
RR: Okay, awesome.
Rich cracked his knuckles and stood one more time from his desk chair. Time to do this. He skittered down the stairs and arrived in the kitchen, where, alas, the perfect, mint-condition copy of SBURB lay on the counter amid boring, adult-looking envelopes. Where was Aunty?
Just grab it before she sees you.
He’d clutched the smooth, plastic box when her shrill voice made him jump.
“Richie, is that the new game the kids are playing these days?”
Lie. Lie. Lie.
“Um, well, yeah, but––it’s––for school?”
“For school?”
“Yeah. Yeah. It’s, like, an educational thing…”
“What’s it educating you about?” She sounded doubtful.
“I dunno, I uh, I think it’s about how––how the Universe formed,” Rich spluttered out the first thing that popped into his head, “like, the Big Bang or something.”
“What’s it rated?”
“E. For everyone. Haha.”
Rich felt like all the tension he’d built up through his life was released when his aunt gave an approving smile and said, “Alright, Richie, but tell me what you learn, okay?”
“Okay,” he squeaked.
No sooner had he sat down and briefly celebrated his deceptive victory with Alex, when another Pesterchum notification popped up.
-- cronicallyTechnical [CT] began pestering memeticPhallus [MP] at 15:12 --
CT: C//:>1've been 0n the 0ther end 0f sh1ty th1ngs because 0f wh0 1 am and what 1'm l1ke
MP: really
CT: C//:>and what 1'm d01ng w1th y0u 1s c0mpleatly unrelated wh0 y0u are 0r what y0u l1ke CT: C//:>1t has everyth1ng t0 d0 w1th the game y0u are ab0ut t0 play
MP: so you're bullying me over a game
CT: C//:>guess s0 CT: C//:>aga1n CT: C//:>n0t really my 1dea CT: C//:>1'm just b0ard CT: C//:>l1ke 1mp0ss1bly b0ard
souleaterfan320