Atrophy

Recollections: The Othergrounds [Complete]

Well. Either we gotta stop here or make 351 more IC posts.

The Night Shift - Gas Station Horror Simulator (OPEN)

Always trust a Big Al.

Recollections: The Coven [COMPLETED]

---

Vashti perked up as she heard the ding of the elevator. She tilted her head, saw Madison being carried by Herik, dropped back against the couch with a thump, and stuck her lip out. Some girls had all of the luck. Vashti realized then that Madison was passed out and chided herself. It was stupid to get jealous of a drunk girl. Still, her self-awareness did nothing to cure her envy. Today was turning out to be a horrible day. She looked like an idiot at the meetup, acted like a total asshole to girls higher up in the pecking order, and now was being a total sourpuss for an utterly benign reason. She wished she could blame her behavior on the Leviathan, but even before it her emotions ran rampant. Vashti sighed and massaged the bridge of her nose. What a headache this was all be—

A cry of surprise escaped her throat as she was effortlessly lifted up out of her slump like a ragdoll and constricted between a massive pair of arms. Momentarily panic switched over to even more panic as Vashti realized Herik was hugging her. Words tried to form on her lips as her feet dangled uselessly off of the ground, but the only thing that came out was excited gibberish. Before she still fully comprehended the greatness of the moment she was in it was over as Herik gently set her back down on the couch.

"Thank you!” Ohmigod. “You're a lifesaver.”Ohmigod ohmigod. “How about I treat you to dinner, yes?" Ohmigodohmigodohmigod. Vashti felt her face flush as her eyes darted around the room. This was a prank. Revenge for her shit behavior. No, wait, he was serious? Really? Buy her dinner? Buying dinner was big. Buying dinner was really big. It was practically date territory. Wait, was it one? Holy shit. She needed to breathe. She needed to change outfits. She needed to not have a creepy alligator hybrid body. Most importantly, she needed to say something, because right now she was just staring at Herik in disbelief. She hopped up to her feet.

“D-dinner? Yes! Yeah! Awesome! That’d be great! Totally! I’m in!” How many ways could she give him an affirmative? Vashti never would know, because the goth waiting for the elevator came over.

"Hi, I'm Sin, the best summoner in the world." Vashti gave her a horrified look. The only sin here was that this girl had managed to summon up a total vibe killer by interrupting the chemistry that was clearly sparking between Vashti and Herik. "So uh... You're one us yeah?"

“Geez, I still hope so,” said Vashti. Wait, did the girl just assume she was in the Coven? Did that mean she walked up to everyone introducing herself as a summoner? Vasthi shook her head, wiped the ugly look from her face, and smiled. She didn’t need to butt heads with anymore of the Coven. “I’m Vashti, the best elevator repair-girl in the world.”

Meanwhile, the other girls were rushing around and Herik had checked his phone. Something had gone wrong. Before Vashti could even consolidate plans with Herik, she was whisked away into a different car.

---

Vashti might’ve been sullen on the way to the Coven’s lair, but nobody could ever be sad in Fantasy Land! Or so said the broken sign covered with dying spanish moss. It was an odd concept for a theme park. Most bragged about being the happiest place on Earth. Fantasy Land was content with just not being depressing and, unlike when it was open, it actually succeeded. There was a haunted house that probably had an actual murder in it, the unearthed dinosaur bones of rollercoaster tracks that were quickly degrading looming off in the distance, and a pet alligator too. Vashti couldn’t help but wonder if Chompy was someone who just had it worse than her.

The Coven was having a wrap-up meeting sans Claudette and Madison, which was fortunate for Vashti. The further removed from the incident the less likely that it would be brought up. Vashti sat on the trunk of a rogue bumper car that was hundreds of yards from its home. She had a look on her face that was somewhere between shocked and intrigued as Maya dished the dirty details to Taylor. Surely, Maya was joking about screwing Blake Schmidt’s wife. Dude didn’t accept the deal so I fucked his wife. It was mimicking business trash talk. Fake machismo, purely ironic. There was literally no way it had actually happened, just like there was literally no way they were actually going to go to a strip club. Right?

"Instead of drinking to bond, how about we go for dinner?” suggested Herik.

Vashti reeled back as if she’d been hit by a bullet and barely kept herself from sliding off of her bumper car. We. He had said we should get dinner. As in, we all should get dinner. Fucking A. She plopped down onto the dilapidated cushion in the cab of her makeshift seat and propped her head up with her hand. Whatever. She was still hungry, and the alternative plan sounded like the perfect way to make a bad day even worse. Besides, maybe the rest wouldn’t want to go. The thought of that made Vashti perk up.

“I’m in. Pretty sure I heard you say that it was gonna be your treat, too,” said Vashti, then she winked. “Just kidding.”

Even if the others came along it’d be fine. She just hoped that she and Herik would have a moment alone. Vashti had made up her mind. He was the one she was going to tell about the Leviathan.

The Night Shift - Gas Station Horror Simulator (OPEN)

The Denihilist

PERSONAL INFORMATION

Name: July Welch

Gender: Male

Age: 27

Physical Description: July is a tall glass of water that upon being ordered to the table is revealed to be poured straight from a warm tap, served with no ice, and in a dirty plastic cup with a bug drowning just below the meniscus. His dark brown hair is trimmed down on the side but wavy and wild on the top, catching in the breeze when not shoved flat under a wool knit cap. His skin tone is reminiscent of mildew, and his smile is tightlipped for a reason. He has some scruff on his face, but it’s less of a five o’clock shadow and more of a midday shade. July dresses in snug, black clothing, regularly paints his fingernails black, and bristles when people call the eye makeup he wears “guyliner”. The only splash of color is the red Gas Way cashier vest he wears, often with the wrong name tag. Despite looking mostly like he has just been exhumed, July’s brown eyes are large, lively, and warm. Plus, there just seems to be a general air of chipperness around him.

Applied Position: Cashier

BUCKET LIST

REASON FOR EMPLOYMENT: Why, society gave July so much that he felt like it was his time to give a little back. After all, who would be there for any other reason outside of altruism and a dream to peddle Pabst Blue Ribbons to teens with fake IDs and fight the spread of botulism in long-haul truckers by replacing the old hotdogs every other shift? Surely, July wouldn’t get a job just because his mom threatened to kick him out of the basement if he didn’t have one. Likewise, July most certainly would be able to get a job in a place more exciting than Nowhere with all of his past work experience that doesn’t exist. Yeah, believe him when he says that he just chose the spot because he liked looking out over the Expanse and its expansiveness.

BUDGETING: First he pays the government for the pleasure of working for the man, then he pays his mom for the pleasure of not being homeless because of the woman. Then there is his car loan for his sick, nasty, totally tricked out, forty mpg on the highway, broken six CD changer in the trunk, matte white 2006 Honda Civic. After that a majority of the rest is put into July’s avant-garde project that is very, very, very important to the future of music, film, art, and humanity itself. Whatever is left is broken down into American Spirits, Four Lokos, and McDoubles.

LIKES:

• Artists (such as himself).
• Experimental music that is more challenging or interesting than actually enjoyable.
• Thought provoking films that are either pointlessly meandering along and end abruptly or ruthlessly jump between unrelated segments of visual dread.
• Debating for the sake of debate, but really just to prove people wrong.
• Telling tall tales, spinning long yarns, general bullshitting.
• Being a voice of reason.

DISLIKES:

• Posers (such as himself).
• His individualism and creativity slowly being crushed by the reality that neither might actually exist.
• Customers and coworkers who won’t engage him in meaningless hypotheticals.
• Being proven wrong, especially when he is wrong.
• Literally just about anything else anybody likes solely because they like it and therefore it must be lowest common denominator bullshit.
• Being the only voice of reason.

TRINKETS: July is armed with a weapon of mass destruction: the Polaroid Camera. One bad photo is all it takes to ruin someone’s perfectly good day. July claims his Polaroid doesn’t just print instant photos. In his hands, the Polaroid Camera can capture a moment so embarassing or a look so unflattering that it practically shreds the subject’s soul. Okay, really it just gets their dumb photo put up on July’s Wall of Shame in the breakroom where his muses will forever be subjugated to torture/light teasing until management takes them down.

July is defended by the most nano-y of iPods. The bitesize device is reinforced with nearly two whole gigabytes of music so obscure that he sometimes forgets that he had ever heard of them in the first place. The wall of sound that emits from his large, chunky headphones shields him from the terrifying sounds of things that go bump in the night. Unfortunately, July has recently invested in a speaker dock so he can subjugate his coworkers and customers to the terrifying sounds of his music taste, often bumping it throughout the night.

BACKGROUND CHECK

July Welch's latest occupation is listed as an Artist and, yes, he did capitalize and bold it in his application. Technically he still is one since he is currently exhibiting a performance art piece titled The Life of an Abject Failure. The piece was incubating inside of him for several years before fully becoming realized this fall. Before art, July was a Musician. Fittingly enough, his music career died on his 27th birthday because he had to sell his guitar and his keyboard to pay his mom rent. The woman failed to realize that she had just cost her son his dream, much like his ex-bandmates failed to realize that the funeral doom genre was just too commercial and drone was where the music was at. After that, July has listed Independent Film Actor, Independent Filmmaker, Independent Film Critic, Essayist, Author, and Student (GED) in that order.

SKILLS AND QUALIFICATIONS

The Quickest Study in the Pacific Northwest ► Despite being an absolute utter failure of a human being, July isn’t useless. He’s actually rather fast on the pick up and easily learns almost anything after being shown it once. This can be something as utterly benign as how to properly wrap the microwaveable sandwiches or unjam the cash register with a Slim Jim to life (and more importantly, job) saving like properly using the AED paddles on someone who actually ate the personal pizza or remembering to burn sage at the start of every shift.

Actually, There is a River in Egypt Named Denial ► July claims to be a master of many things, but just about the only thing he is actually any good at is lying. The first part of being good at lying is to never get caught, and the easiest way to never get caught is to never admit it. It’s impossible to be certain when July crosses the point of speaking frankly and from the heart to joking and spouting out complete and utter bullshit. Convincing people to believe what he says can actually be quite powerful, although it’s also just as difficult to tell if July is telling the truth. Still, it’s probably for the best to believe him when he says tulpas do not exist.

The Tempter of the Norns, or, Telling Dracula “Suck It, Vampires Aren’t Real” ► Look, it’s fun and all to pretend that Bigfoot ate out of the dumpster or that the drifter yelling at the moon is the Wolfman, but c’mon, July isn’t an idiot. Everything, and he means everything, about the night shift at Gas Way can easily be debunked with logic. July intends to prove this to his coworkers, and so he’ll happily go tell the drunk guy shuffling around in the parking lot moaning to beat it or go check out whatever the hell was that noise coming from the Behind.

Recollections: The Othergrounds [Complete]

---

Penny was shaking. Her vision was blurry but she was pretty certain it was from the tears, not from the after effects of her Abstraction. The second that thing moved she would activate it. She didn’t know if she’d have time to react in that window, but it wouldn’t matter if she used it too soon and broke her sight again. Her eyes narrowed and she readied herself to take a swing as the thing that wasn’t Caelea made the girl’s head turn and grin even wider than before at Penny. She felt a chill run down her spine. She almost didn’t recognize what it was. Adrenaline rushes in the face of horror was common, but it wasn’t often that Penny found herself completely afraid. It also wasn’t often that Penny believed she was in a fight where she would lose regardless of if she survived or not.

The shell of a Caelea's grin hit its breaking point, and the thing disappeared. The sigil below Penny’s collarbone glowed as she enhanced her vision, simultaneously swinging her hand forward in preparation of activating her glyphs. Instantly, Penny started to see spots. It felt like someone was taking a jackhammer to her skull. She caught vision of Caelea’s body beelining in the other direction and immediately stopped her Abstraction. The jackhammering stopped with it, but the pain didn’t subside.Penny grabbed her temples and covered her face. She staggered but stayed upright, biting the inside of her cheek so hard that she tasted blood.

The realization of what had really happened hit her again: Caelea’s dead. The pain in her head paled in comparison to the one in her chest. She shook her head, muttering nonsense and disbeliefs under her breath that was punctuated by loud, arhythmic sobs. Penny was completely unaware of her surroundings. She didn’t see Zoey moving to calm Hagan, or notice that the others had actually listened to her call to run, but she knew she wasn’t safe. She wiped her tears, smudging ink from her fingertips onto her cheek, and tried to take control of her breathing.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” she said softly. She continued to quietly chant her mantra as she whipped her head back and forth to take in the spotted world. Where had the ghost kids gone? More importantly, where had the real kids gone? She caught sight of Isla’s beanie again. She caught sight of Hagan’s barrier again. Penny felt a fire start up inside of her. Zoey and Hagan had been with Caelea. What the hell had they been thinking? Why didn’t they just smash the Apparition? Why didn’t they protect Caelea? She kept muttering her mantra.

She saw the false light of Hagan’s barrier die and her breathing grew heavy. Her face soured. She canned the mantra. The tears let themselves go again, and Penny turned and ran. She wasn’t running after the other group. She was running away from her friends. She had trusted them to watch out for one another, and they had betrayed that trust. There was no way Penny could face them right now, or rather she didn’t want to face them. Penny was quick to catch up to the group of strangers. She slowed down to a jog as she neared them. She made it to them so quickly because some of them were little more than useless deadweight. Penny frowned, shoved the toxic thought back down, and wiped her face clean yet again before she made herself apparent.

“Hey, wait up,” said Penny to get the group right as Isla stopped them. “Yeah, I think we can take a breather.”

Judging by how Trent was looking, they needed one and she needed to prepare. She didn’t know how long puppet Caelea would actually be gone, or if they even really were gone. Penny stepped past the group so her back was to them, partially so she could focus and partially because she really didn’t want to deal with anyone’s shit right now, and flipped open her satchel. Her gear, if it could be called that—it was more like a random assortment of junk—was still there. She pulled out a trifecta of Keno cards. On each one she drew a different glyph, shook them dry so they didn’t bleed, and shoved each one into a different pocket. Penny capped her marker and turned back in time just to get embraced.

Zoey wrapped herself around Penny and cried loudly. Penny felt her body stiffen. Instead of returning the hug, Penny’s arms dropped down to her side and stayed there. Her eyes did water, but the look on her face was not one of sorrow but of anger and disgust. Zoey couldn’t believe Caelea was gone? Caelea was gone because Zoey let that thing get near her! Penny wasn’t surprised that she didn’t return the hug. She was surprised that she didn’t deck Zoey right in the face. Penny’s body started to shake, and she slowly lifted one hand to push against Zoey’s elbow to unlock herself from the hug.

“Zoey, don’t you ever fucking touch me,” said Penny, speaking barely loud enough for the other girl to hear her. Her voice was thin. The fire in her eyes was balanced by the ice in her words. She knew that her friend was going to be hurt by her words. She smirked, but then it faltered. Penny took a step back and, refusing to make eye contact with Zoey, added a little less harshly, “I just need space.”

With that, plus a sharp, disapproving look thrown over at Hagan, Penny walked over to a lamppost and leaned against it with her arms folded over her chest. Her eyes narrowed as Odessa suggested that what had happened wasn’t real, but Penny’s skepticism shifted as Odessa mentioned that the Hound didn’t show up. The important question of how Odessa even knew about the Hound was forgotten as soon as Penny picked up on her implication. Technically, Caelea could still be alive because it hadn’t been her time. Penny frowned. Technically, this could just be false hope. Maybe the Hound didn’t operate in Paradise.

“He’s Death, basically,” said Penny, in response to Isla and Finley. Penny had been lucky enough to keep her time with the Hound to a bare minimum. From what she had heard he was also a manipulating piece of shit, but she kept that part to herself. “He comes when it’s your time to go, which means that wasn’t Caelea’s fate. However, just because she shouldn’t be dead doesn’t mean that she is alive. There are things that can interfere with the Hound and break his design.” She closed her eyes and saw the orange light. She blinked it away. “And there are ways to set it back on the right track.”

“So are you saying what I think you’re saying, Odessa? Is there something we can do? Because I—” Penny’s voice broke. She shook her head and continued, “Because I really can’t be jerked around right now.”

Recollections: The Coven [COMPLETED]

---

Vashti dropped her shoulders and pouted as Taylor called her out. She was about to protest and say that she really didn’t mean to snap at Claudette, but it wouldn’t do her any good. The silent treatment from Claudette told her that no apologies would be taken anyway. She felt like she was going to be sick. She moved quickly as Herik got the door and dropped down to the eighth floor. Vashti turned back to the group and gave them a miserable smile.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be quick,” she said and jogged towards the stairwell. The door slammed shut behind her and she hesitated before deciding to head towards the lobby. The receptionist would help her, whereas interrupting the Coven’s meeting to tell them that she’d managed to fuck up her fast task would not. Actually, technically, she had succeeded in babysitting duty. She had taken care of Madison. Just, Vashti figured trapping her in the elevator wasn’t what Kayla had in mind. Still, it was something positive to hold on to, a light that burned away the worrisome thoughts of what the others would say about her once everything was settled.

Maybe if she was fast they’d be more merciful. She ran down the stairs, cutting the last third off of each flight by jumping to the landing. By the time Vashti hit the ground floor she was panting. Vashti didn’t waste a second and wiped the sweat from her forehead as she bursted through the door to the lobby. Her shoes echoed across the lobby as she bolted past some goth girl waiting for a lift that’d never arrive and skidded to a stop at the receptionist, just barely catching herself from slamming right into the desk. The receptionist looked visibly startled as Vashti fought to catch her breath, holding her chest with one hand and hanging up a finger as if to say one moment to the receptionist. She sucked up one big breath of air.

“Help the elevator has no power, people are stuck, oh my god, I’m never running again, I don’t know, do something,” said Vashti, releasing the words with her breath so they were all hurriedly strung together.

The receptionist gave Vashti a look, and then lifted up the phone to call maintenance. Vashti, having done her heroic deed for the day, let herself collapse against the desk as if she were Pheidippides running from Marathon and sunk to the marble floor of the lobby. The receptionist peered over the desk and, with her hand over the phone’s receiver, said, “They just had to flip a breaker. Also, you can’t sit there.”

Vashti groaned, got up, and made way over to one of the lobby's couches. Hopefully that call had actually fixed the elevator. It had taken, what, only a couple of minutes? That was pretty good. She mentally patted herself on the back. Claudette would have to forgive her then. The small, satisfied smile on Vashti's face soured. Claudette had broken the elevator, she better thank Vashti for fixing her mess.

Recollections: The Othergrounds [Complete]

---

With an exaggerated groan Penny helped heft Trent up to his feet. She heard her name and turned, her face doing little to hide her shock at the state Stacey was in. She swore under her breath. When did she start running a daycare? Fortunately, Odessa was there working part-time. Penny was almost used to the woman’s uncanny ability to seemingly appear next to Penny whenever she glanced away. Almost. She still jumped and dropped a hand to her bag, but it relaxed upon recognition.

“Hey, be careful about warming him too quickly,” said Penny. Stacey wouldn’t really be able to play with chilblains. She glanced at Stacey and gave him an affirmative nod with a confident smile, “Don’t worry. You’re going to be okay. We are all going to be o”—a building exploded and wiped the smile right off of her face—”kay.”

Penny turned her head to avoid getting the dust in her eyes and happened to catch sight of her friends just in time for Hagan to activate his barrier. It was wrong. Her stomach sank as the sight of it filled her with a familiar dread that visited her almost every night. A whirlwind of dust swallowed them whole, and when it settled the Apparition was wailing. It was one of the most awful sounds Penny had ever heard. She steeled herself and fished out a handful of change before thinking the better of it. She massaged her temple. The shriek had drummed up her migraine yet again so that it rapidly pulsed with pain as if set to the bassline of a techno beat.

“Get out of here,” said Odessa.

”But—”

“All of you.”

Penny returned Odessa’s stare with an unblinking one of her own, and then winced as the thing cried out again. Damn it. She’d give Odessa this one. Penny felt like even with having one of her arms tied behind her back she could still help take this thing out, but there was more to worry about than a grudge match. Besides, her friends knew what they were doing. They could handle themselves.

“C’mon, let’s go,” she said, turning her back on the standoff and looking for a place they could hole up while Odessa and the others got all of the glory. Penny rolled her eyes as she heard Finley speak up from behind her. That thing had easily sunk a cruise ship. Hiding behind a car wouldn’t stop—another scream kicked her right in the skull. God, why won’t that thing shut up? Penny shot an angry look over her shoulder and then let out a choking noise as if she had just been stabbed in the gut. It sure felt like that way. Her eyes welled up and as they reflected the geyser of Caelea’s blood lacerating the sky.

Her arms dropped to her side dead. She never even had a chance to draw. The knife in her gut twisted and shot a numbness through her body as she watched her friend get split in two, yet somehow her feet shuffled forward on their own. It was like they were drawn to the carnage. A simple protest wouldn’t stop them, and anybody stupid enough to touch her would get a sharp elbow. Smoke threaded between the two halves and made it one, Caelea’s body twisting and jerking unnaturally as it sewed itself back together. A huff escaped Penny’s throat as that thing fucking dared to smile at them. Hagan flipped out. Zoey froze. Odessa hid.

Penny stopped. She had felt something tickle her fingertips. It was the felt tip of a marker. She didn’t know when she had grabbed it, but she had drawn on herself. What was the plan here? Judging by the glyphs, it had been a stupid plan. She was between the two groups now, meaning that Penny was close enough to see from the look on Odessa’s face that she was fucking up and not far enough away from Hagan’s rampage to truly be safe. The thing that was once Caelea continued to grin, only it wasn’t grinning. It was baring its teeth. Penny realized she had been baring her teeth, too.

So that was it. She had planned to kill it. She could, too, although she might not walk out of the fight. It disgusted her. Not the thing that was once Caelea, but the fact that she would kill it with there being a shadow of a doubt on whether Caelea could possibly still be in there somehow. Hagan had come back. Zoey had come back. Maybe Caelea could come back. It was a stupid, childish thought. An impossibility, really. She still had to consider it. Penny took a step back, and then she shouted a singular command. It worked for all of the strangers, really, but she meant it only for that fucking thing that was once her friend. She really hoped it would understand her, and she really hoped Caelea would forgive her for not being able to do what she should do. The second Penny shouted was the second her tears finally burst free.

Penny had yelled, “RUN!”

Recollections: The Coven [COMPLETED]

penis

@Ghost Note

Ladies and gentlemen, our featured GM. Perhaps if you were as articulate as this your RPs would get recognized.

The Night Shift - Gas Station Horror Simulator (OPEN)

The Denihilist

PERSONAL INFORMATION

Name: July Welch

Gender: Male

Age: 27

Physical Description: July is a tall glass of water that upon being ordered to the table is revealed to be poured straight from a warm tap, served with no ice, and in a dirty plastic cup with a bug drowning just below the meniscus. His dark brown hair is trimmed down on the side but wavy and wild on the top, catching in the breeze when not shoved flat under a wool knit cap. His skin tone is reminiscent of mildew, and his smile is tightlipped for a reason. He has some scruff on his face, but it’s less of a five o’clock shadow and more of a midday shade. July dresses in snug, black clothing, regularly paints his fingernails black, and bristles when people call the eye makeup he wears “guyliner”. The only splash of color is the red Gas Way cashier vest he wears, often with the wrong name tag. Despite looking mostly like he has just been exhumed, July’s brown eyes are large, lively, and warm. Plus, there just seems to be a general air of chipperness around him.

Applied Position: Cashier

BUCKET LIST

REASON FOR EMPLOYMENT: Why, society gave July so much that he felt like it was his time to give a little back. After all, who would be there for any other reason outside of altruism and a dream to peddle Pabst Blue Ribbons to teens with fake IDs and fight the spread of botulism in long-haul truckers by replacing the old hotdogs every other shift? Surely, July wouldn’t get a job just because his mom threatened to kick him out of the basement if he didn’t have one. Likewise, July most certainly would be able to get a job in a place more exciting than Nowhere with all of his past work experience that doesn’t exist. Yeah, believe him when he says that he just chose the spot because he liked looking out over the Expanse and its expansiveness.

BUDGETING: First he pays the government for the pleasure of working for the man, then he pays his mom for the pleasure of not being homeless because of the woman. Then there is his car loan for his sick, nasty, totally tricked out, forty mpg on the highway, broken six CD changer in the trunk, matte white 2006 Honda Civic. After that a majority of the rest is put into July’s avant-garde project that is very, very, very important to the future of music, film, art, and humanity itself. Whatever is left is broken down into American Spirits, Four Lokos, and McDoubles.

LIKES:

• Artists (such as himself).
• Experimental music that is more challenging or interesting than actually enjoyable.
• Thought provoking films that are either pointlessly meandering along and end abruptly or ruthlessly jump between unrelated segments of visual dread.
• Debating for the sake of debate, but really just to prove people wrong.
• Telling tall tales, spinning long yarns, general bullshitting.
• Being a voice of reason.

DISLIKES:

• Posers (such as himself).
• His individualism and creativity slowly being crushed by the reality that neither might actually exist.
• Customers and coworkers who won’t engage him in meaningless hypotheticals.
• Being proven wrong, especially when he is wrong.
• Literally just about anything else anybody likes solely because they like it and therefore it must be lowest common denominator bullshit.
• Being the only voice of reason.

TRINKETS: July is armed with a weapon of mass destruction: the Polaroid Camera. One bad photo is all it takes to ruin someone’s perfectly good day. July claims his Polaroid doesn’t just print instant photos. In his hands, the Polaroid Camera can capture a moment so embarassing or a look so unflattering that it practically shreds the subject’s soul. Okay, really it just gets their dumb photo put up on July’s Wall of Shame in the breakroom where his muses will forever be subjugated to torture/light teasing until management takes them down.

July is defended by the most nano-y of iPods. The bitesize device is reinforced with nearly two whole gigabytes of music so obscure that he sometimes forgets that he had ever heard of them in the first place. The wall of sound that emits from his large, chunky headphones shields him from the terrifying sounds of things that go bump in the night. Unfortunately, July has recently invested in a speaker dock so he can subjugate his coworkers and customers to the terrifying sounds of his music taste, often bumping it throughout the night.

BACKGROUND CHECK

July Welch's latest occupation is listed as an Artist and, yes, he did capitalize and bold it in his application. Technically he still is one since he is currently exhibiting a performance art piece titled The Life of an Abject Failure. The piece was incubating inside of him for several years before fully becoming realized this fall. Before art, July was a Musician. Fittingly enough, his music career died on his 27th birthday because he had to sell his guitar and his keyboard to pay his mom rent. The woman failed to realize that she had just cost her son his dream, much like his ex-bandmates failed to realize that the funeral doom genre was just too commercial and drone was where the music was at. After that, July has listed Independent Film Actor, Independent Filmmaker, Independent Film Critic, Essayist, Author, and Student (GED) in that order.

SKILLS AND QUALIFICATIONS

The Quickest Study in the Pacific Northwest ► Despite being an absolute utter failure of a human being, July isn’t useless. He’s actually rather fast on the pick up and easily learns almost anything after being shown it once. This can be something as utterly benign as how to properly wrap the microwaveable sandwiches or unjam the cash register with a Slim Jim to life (and more importantly, job) saving like properly using the AED paddles on someone who actually ate the personal pizza or remembering to burn sage at the start of every shift.

Actually, There is a River in Egypt Named Denial ► July claims to be a master of many things, but just about the only thing he is actually any good at is lying. The first part of being good at lying is to never get caught, and the easiest way to never get caught is to never admit it. It’s impossible to be certain when July crosses the point of speaking frankly and from the heart to joking and spouting out complete and utter bullshit. Convincing people to believe what he says can actually be quite powerful, although it’s also just as difficult to tell if July is telling the truth. Still, it’s probably for the best to believe him when he says tulpas do not exist.

The Tempter of the Norns, or, Telling Dracula “Suck It, Vampires Aren’t Real” ► Look, it’s fun and all to pretend that Bigfoot ate out of the dumpster or that the drifter yelling at the moon is the Wolfman, but c’mon, July isn’t an idiot. Everything, and he means everything, about the night shift at Gas Way can easily be debunked with logic. July intends to prove this to his coworkers, and so he’ll happily go tell the drunk guy shuffling around in the parking lot moaning to beat it or go check out whatever the hell was that noise coming from the Behind.

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

Maysah began to think that perhaps getting catcalled into catching a bullet would be a mercy as Void continued to filibuster. This kind of lecture was largely wasted on her, and it was largely based upon assumptions that she knew not to be true. They were going up against one of the Big Six. Any yuppie with slicked back hair and a seat on the board of one of those companies was a lunatic tripping off of a power fantasy. Besides, she had ruined her career fighting corporations like these. She didn’t need to know every which way they’d screw her because she had already been through them all.

Her brow furrowed into a v-shape and it stuck there as Void kept talking hypotheticals upon hypotheticals. Was he attempting to make a point, or did the sound of his own voice mend his precious ego that had been wounded by getting shot down? They had been inventing ways to kill her for over twenty years. She had been shot by guns, blasted by hand lasers, thrown around like a ragdoll by a mutated scientist, and just hours ago was practically hit point blank by a miniature nuclear warhead. Yet, somehow she had survived long enough to ironically get talked to death by this man here about all the possible things that would, yet again, fail to kill her.

A short huff of air, the death of a stifled laugh, escaped from Maysah as Void went on to threaten her with EMPs. She’d love to see if an EMP would be able to counter-out a perpetual EMP. She squinted her eyes shut tighter as a hand went up to cover a smile. Yes, how could big bad Stardust even dare to think about hurting the poor innocent make-believe single mom who had, in this dumbass scenario, just tried to murder her with a magical bomb?

Another hand went up to her face as she started to shake in her seat. Oh, oh, alas, these poor innocent civilians who willingly punched the clock to work for an evil empire, oh, how the world will weep for them and cry out why, Stardust, why!? Yes, yes, this was it, this was her start of darkness, all because she didn’t let a man harass her. What a monster! What a frosty bitch! Damn it, Stardust! Why did she murder this man because he had negative pick up game? Why couldn’t she just take the compliment? Alas!

Arbiter spoke up, telling her not to go killing anyone. Wow, thanks for the support. Glad she followed him to Denver. She shook her head as he continued on business as usual. She couldn’t take it anymore. This was why she never could be part of a team. She lowered her hands from her face. Her cheeks were red. Tears were pooling at the bottom of her eyes. Void was still there, but it didn’t matter anymore. The corner of Maysah’s lips twitched.

And then she exploded into a howl of laughter. It was an uncontained, uncontrolled, full on laughing fit complete with blown out equine heehaws and sharp snorts. Maysah doubled over as she smacked the table and flopped back in her seat. She didn’t know what exactly it was that got her but goddamn did it get her. The lack of real sleep didn’t help. She wiped at the tears flowing freely down her face, caught one look of Void, thought for a second that he was actually about to start fucking talk again, and erupted into another laugh session. It was uncomfortably long for everyone involved. Maysah was in actual physical pain by the time she had wrestled it down to a soft chuckle.

“Holy shit. Holy. Shit! I haven’t laughed like that in ages. Oh my god. Thank you,” she said, mostly to Void. It was the first time her partners heard actual glee in her voice. “Are you sure you aren’t a hero? Because that? That was just an incredible speech. Seriously. Bravo.” She lifted the drink he had gotten her in a mock cheers. “Really, I take it all back. I have seen the error of my ways. I was in the wrong. I’m totally going to fuck you now.”

And with that Maysah sneered, turned the drink, and poured it right onto the floor. She set the empty glass on the table, snatched up Hex’s notebook, and stared Void dead in the eye, “Since you’ve been doing this kind of thing for years I doubt you’ll need to study up. Besides, the lady needs another drink.”