Recent Statuses

21 days ago
Current all i have is beer and cheese in my fridge.
3 mos ago
I was at a restaurant the other day put salt on the napkin I was using as a coaster so it wouldn't stick to my drink when I lifted it and my waiter asked me if I worked for NASA.
3 mos ago
The clownboy (half clown, half cowboy) says Yeehonk
3 mos ago
you're aren't (epic backflip)
5 mos ago
Who tf likes sparkling water that shit tastes like tv static


A letter of recommendation:

People on my junk mail list <3

@Ruler Inc
@He Who Walks Behind
@Spoopy Scary
@Lord Wraith

Most Recent Posts


Archie's breath hitched when he opened the door- his worst fears realized. Here Natalie was, looking great per the usual, meanwhile he had barely eaten or cleaned in days. He looked like a mess.

"I've been trying to get in touch with you to make sure you were okay after that night. Clearly, you're not. Can I come in?" she asked, concern in her tone. Archie glanced behind him at his apartment and sighed. At this point, there was nothing that he could do to escape whatever verbal and metaphorical judgement was coming his way.

"I-" he began, automatically formulating an excuse in his mind as to why she most certainly could not come in. "Yeah." he said, finally. Archie stepped backwards, pulling the door open to allow her entry. He hastily stepped away, moving into the main room to grab any articles of clothing that were left out and running them to his room in a half baked attempt at seeming at least somewhat cleanly. It wasn't so bad, he mused. The only thing that he wouldnt have time for would be the dirty dishes and that empty handle that he should really have thrown out days ago. Oh well, nothing he could do about that now.

Archie returned from tossing the dirty clothes into his room, out of sight out of mind, with a shirt on and shut the door. He turned around to face Natalie who was now standing in the living room, but stayed by his doorway. Seemingly unwilling to approach or come closer.

There was an awkward silence, then he spoke up. "Sorry for not calling. Phone has been dead. Put in on the charger today." he explained. It was a weak excuse and he knew it- essentially meaning he couldn't have been fucked to get out of bed to do a task as simple as charging his phone. But to him it didn't feel that way. He had no energy, no drive to even move. Getting out of bed alone felt like a monumental task that was so unattainable that he might as well not even try. It was soul crushing, in a way, even if it was over such a minute task. He hated himself for that. "But this- this isn't really about that night." he explained.

In his mind he liked to think he was depressed and alcoholic because he was a monster at sundown. It was easier to swallow and Archie, for the past few years had been doing nothing but running and taking the easy routes. It was only a natural progression for him to do it now. In reality it was the death of his son and the loss of his loved one that dragged him to this dark place and made him feel like a monster. Actually being one? That just solidified his own personal image. It was icing on the cake.

Archie sighed, walking over to the counter and past Natalie, grabbing the empty handle and depositing it in the garbage. He turned, grabbing the empty glass and running it under the sink in an effort to busy himself in some productive way. He knew he could only put it off for so long, and decided that it should be sooner rather than later. "I take it you'd like to talk about what happened?"

@Silver Carrot

Nothing and everything had changed that night.

After scavenging some clothing to make it through the city without being arrested for public nudity, Archie looked resolutely into Natalie's face and hugged her, right there in front of the badly damaged, likely to be condemned building. After a moment of surprise, Nat had hugged him back, and they sort of sank into each other's warmth before releasing and going their separate ways: Each to their own apartments.

It was only later, sitting alone on his neatly made bed, that Archie came to regret not seizing the chance, not being brave enough to close that last few inches between them and kissing her right then and there. He almost feels like he's missed an opportunity, that perfect moment when his mind had been vulnerable- but in a good way. Clouded by adrenaline, shock, the realization that he had indirection maimed or even killed people by bringing a building down on their heads... All that was left was that sense of innocence and nostalgia, and her lips had been so close...

With a growl of frustration, Archie tosses his pillow across the room, hearing it thud disappointingly against the beige walls. After all this time and he's still a coward. He buries his head into his hands and sits up. He doesn't want to deal with the reality that he had almost taken Natalie's head off. He can't think about it. Instead he considers how, despite her tiny frame, she had enough strength in her to stop him in his tracks. Between drinks Archie's outlook on this revelation flip-flops. On one hand, he seemed to have chosen the right person to... date? On the other, something in him reveled in how powerful he was. The feeling and rush of being the top of the food chain. The apex predator. It was unnerving to be faced with the reality that there were those that could challenge him.

And the reality that there were those that could win.

But perhaps the most damning fact was that Natalie had seen him now. The real him- not just the one she saw in bed. She saw his aptitude for damage and ability to harm others. Worst of all she saw his capacity for anger. Anger that misfired and often aimed itself at the easiest target around because he had little ability to control it and himself. If Natalie hadn't seen it, she had to have felt it and would see it soon. Ellie had seen it- it had always been an attribute of his that he disliked about himself but could never find the means to really change. It had reared it's ugly head the most after-

His whole thought process screams to a halt. With shaky hands, Archie tries to pour himself another drink but decides instead to finish the handle. He cant think about that. He's not ready, not strong enough. He downs what's left, feeling his chest burn and muscles swell. He fights it, but darkness welcomes him. Some small part of him is content with the somewhat open ended outcome, whether he turn, pass out, or simply die, Archie had done enough thinking for the night and would rather not do any more at all.

A few days later, he cannot seem to draw it out any longer.

While ambling through his apartment and revisiting old haunts in his own mind for the past two days, there is a knocking at the door that the man promptly ignores. Calls and texts from his boss- which he answers and Natalie- which he doesn't. Reality is setting back in, though and he has to come back at some point. There is another banging at the door now, with a familiar voice that is neither as surprise nor expectation— but, at this point, Archie's starting to question: what is this poor girl seeking him out for? Why him?

Archie was content to dwell on these questions himself, but sat up abruptly when the whole wall began to vibrate. Seems like Natalie was tired of waiting. Having long since abandoned all desire for self preservation, Archie slunk out of his bed. His body felt stiff and heavy, and he hadn't shaved or taken a proper shower in days. He had bags under his eyes, no shirt- the works. Exactly what you'd imagine when you think of a depressed man approaching his prime. He did his best to ignore the banging and stumbled into his bathroom. He ran water through his hands and splashed it on his face in a last ditch effort to freshen up.

Leaving his bedroom was a a dreadful experience, because he was more and more aware of the embarrassment he would feel when Natalie saw his home. Clothes strewn around, an empty handle of whiskey on the counter and uncleaned glasses. It could've definitely been a whole lot worse, but it didn't feel lived it. It wasn't a home. When they disappeared, the soul of his dwellings had gone too.

He took a deep breath and turned the door handle, opening it enough so Natalie could get a good look at him and hopefully not much else. He rubbed his eyes. God, she was a welcome sight. It took a surprising amount of willpower to stop himself from reaching out to touch her right then- just to see if she was real. A guardian angel sent to rescue him from wallowing further in his own filth. God, he was pathetic.

"O-oh," he began, briefly forgetting how words worked. "Natalie. Hi, hey, hello um," he dragged on. "What- what brings you here?"

@Silver Carrot
“Put that back in your prison wallet!”
who has the smallest character? i say we defeat Abel by sending them into his asshole like Antman will do to Thanos in Marvel studio's upcoming movie Avengers Engame™ (2019) set to release in theaters April 25, 2019 at participating movie theaters.
see i like to shitpost

but at least im autonomously capable of doing so.

the true king of brainlets.
Matthew Detmer

"Who ya' textin? Your side chick?"

Matt winced, realizing he was being somewhat rude. He shook his head to dismiss the thought from her mind. "No, no. Just- Texting Israel." he explained, an awkward half smile gracing his lips.

The music was in full swing now, it was difficult to hear much, he could barely even hear himself think. But he saw people preparing to release their balloons and followed suit. It must be that time. Experience had taught him that tying the balloon to one's wrist was usually the best method of keeping it in one's possession, so he carefully untied the balloon. There are cheers around him, as the light on a tall, large building across from him lights up, bright fluorescent lights casting a glow across the streets and into the sky.


He berates herself mentally for a moment for thinking the way he did. He closes his eyes, and the hand holding the balloon tightens its grip. He wills every ounce of willpower and determination into that little paper and that fragile balloon.


He doesn't open his eyes, even as the time counts down. The sound of people laughing and chanting all around him grows louder as the time shortens.


He feels a cool breeze from the sea pass by him, and he only clutches even tighter onto his balloon, moving it in front of his, both hands clasping desperately to the thin line to the small, yellow balloon. A line to her.


Laughter erupts from the right of him. He tightens his eyes.


He takes in a deep breath.


I hope she finds what she's looking for. Even if it isn't me.

Screams of joy and laughter erupt from all around him as she hears the sound of music erupt from the stage. And finally he lets go of the line he so desperately clung onto just moments ago. He opens his eyes and finally releases his breath, and watches as the fragile, light balloon lifts slowly into the air, carrying his wish along with hundreds more. He turns to smile at Amanda, who is calling his name from the water's edge, but there is screaming in his ears- the bad kind this time. He whirl's around in time to see red and viscera, Amanda yells about his friend and then a person barrels into him.

"¡Coño asere, vámonos!"

Speak of the devil, he thought despite the panic. There Israel was.

"He's here!" Matt said, pulling Israel off of him and almost shoving him toward Amanda's direction, giving him a direction to run and deciding that greeting his friend was probably not a priority at the moment. Getting the hell out of here was.

Pain ripped through Matthew's back, and he felt hook like appendages catch his shoulder blade, effectively lifting his body off the ground and throwing him about three feet to right. He felt himself scream as muscle was rent and his arm was popped out of it's socket, but he didn't hear it. A small, separate part of himself realized that there was more than on monster at this park. He felt his body impact the sand face first, and felt painful weight on his back. One of those creatures was likely on top of him right now- ready to end his life.

@Ruler Inc@Spoopy Scary

Henry Olin

Henry stood in silence for while longer with Jake. The two men obviously had plenty of stories to share, but it felt... wrong to push. At least right now. So Henry didn't say anything- talking right now would be like asking him to admit weakness. They knew each other's type, so they stood in silence, simply enjoying quiet company. It was, at least in Henry's case, something he was unused to. A welcome change of pace.

He must've looked silly, giant lizard cop holding a tiny yellow balloon. He looked up to it, then to the stage. It was time to let them go. The singer was calling for everyone to release. Henry looked up to his balloon once more, holding on for a second longer before letting go. From there, he watched the balloon float away, up, up, up until there's nothing left but a dot in the sky.

Wish you were here.

He closed his eyes and imagined, allowing his arm to fall to his side and relax at the thought. He wasn't sure who the wish was for yet, but he knew that he would know when he saw them.

His eyes snapped open at the sound of screaming and the smell of blood. He heard his radios buzzing with activity, people giving commands and others reading them back. Something something manifestations. Get civilians to safety. He looked across the street to Drake, who was already shifting forms. Hot blooded and rearing for a fight. Henry momentarily remembered the days when he was like that, too. He caught sight of Bobbi making her way over towards him, trying to brave the crowds running through the streets away from what was best described as a hot spot of manifestations. Through luck and will, the little girl made it across- and then promptly opened a portal of all things.

Henry was instantly more on edge, if that was even possible. This person had been particularly friendly towards them- something that was both uncommon and something he was unused to. He tensed, had she been the cause of this event somehow? His mind flew a mile a minute, but stopped as soon as she pulled out a small pink adult toy from the portal she had created. He furrowed his brow, more confused than suspicious now.

"Jus' what teh fuck am I s'pose tah do wit' dis?"

Henry opened his mouth, but no words came out. He shook his head, and took a step forward into the street. He stopped momentarily, turning around and taking the monstrous handgun off of his hip. He grabbed Bobbi's arms and pulled her towards him roughly, at the same time putting the gun into her hands- practically shoving her back as soon as he let go of her arm to give her the gun.

"Crash course-" He said. The gun was huge and heavy for its size- essentially a modified glock that had thirty 9MM rounds in its gigantic magazine. It was largely useless to him, but it was standard for all FAMA agents to have a sidearm and building a handgun chambered in .50 cal would be wasteful, inhumane, and unnecessary even if it would've been far more normal for his size. "Point, aim, fire." He said, pointing at the iron sights and then the trigger. He gave Jake a glance- he'd prefer to have given him the gun, the man reeked of gunpowder for Christ's sake, but he was likely packing heat himself. It was the better decision to arm Bobbi.

"Keep each other safe-"

He heard the wet smacking sound of Drake's tongue behind him and the inhuman sounds of the mutants. He winced, he couldn't stay much longer.

"Hey, Henry! You comin'?"

Henry craned his neck, turning around and glaring at Drake. It was time for the giant to do his job.

"Drake will get you out of here."

He stepped back, turning around again to face Drake. "I got this, Dragon. You know the drill, get them out of here and if I dont come find you, scrape my ass off the pavement gently please."

The aberrant's attention was on Drake, and it had no time to reach when Henry grabbed it by it's head with one of his enormous hands and with herculean strength lifted it's thrashing body in the air. With his other free hand he grabbed one of it's wildly kicking legs and brought it horizontal. It feebly clawed, scratched, and beat against the scales on his hands, and with a grunt the reptilian giant brought it down against his knee. There was an almighty shattering sound as the aberrant's chest cavity was turned to paste, and the mutant's spine arced unnaturally around Henry's leg. Henry released the corpse, which fell unceremoniously to the asphalt like a discarded trinket, or a broken toy.

Henry wasn't the best shot, nor was he the best technical fighter in FAMA. He couldn't be, he was too big and never had any extreme talent with firearms. He was good at a few things though. Henry curled his hands into fists and beat his chest like an ape- emitting a loud pounding sound. Like a living war drum. He arched his back forwards and roared, the sound reverberating through the very souls of those around him. Deep, primordial, and an uncanny combination of both human and inhuman.

He was good at being the diversion, so everyone else could do their jobs. In this case, a giant to get the mutant's attention, and an immovable object to keep most of them at bay. A distraction, but a force of nature all the same. Henry felt the ever familiar blood rush as his body shifted into fight or flight mode- he was a warrior through and through and this was what he lived for, and what he would die for.

Just not today.

@Ruler Inc @EclecticWitch @CaptainBritton

Thank you, Kanye. Very cool.
Matthew Detmer

@Ruler Inc,@Spoopy Scary

All at once, Matt was being dragged around the festival. Amanda was talking and smiling and god- laughing her head off. It was intoxicating and dizzying and all he could ask himself was how empty he had felt without that being in his life. This girl shone like the sun.

"Hey, you, come here, newcomers?" a woman asked, approaching them. "I see you don't have balloons."

"Yeah," the woman beside him piped up, ever a spitfire. "What's all this about?"

Matt had lived here for a few years now and had taken part in the festival more than a few times as a child and as an adult. He opened his mouth to explain it to Amanda, but the lady beat him to it. "So every year during this festival, everyone who's gets a balloon and a piece of paper. You're supposed to write a wish on the paper and at four, we all let the balloons go!"

Amanda's face broke out into a smile and something inside Matthew wished he had brought Amanda her at some point all those years ago. "Ooooh, Matt," She said, facing him with wild and excited eyes. "Let's do it, I want the blue one." Matt choked somewhat at the beginning of her sentence, but quickly collected himself when he realized that she wasn't insinuating that.

Eventually, with a dark cyan balloon in her hand and a bright red one in his, they sat down at a table to write their wishes. She was bent far over the table suggestively, but Matt wasn't paying attention. He had taken out his phone and was sending a quick text to Israel.

We're at the festival. By the tables writing our wishes. Red and blue balloons. Just shout when you get there.

Matt slipped his phone back into his pocket. Walking right past Amanda's show and sitting down- focusing on his blank piece of paper in front of him. What did he want?

He looked at his hands, and realized with a childlike smile that he couldn't ask for a cool superpower- he had one of those. He had friends, one that would likely catch up with him soon, a home, a job, hobbies... He looked over to Amanda, realizing that he had everything he could possibly wish for already. The idea hit him like a ton of bricks while he was looking at her. A deep frown etched itself into his features, and he looked down, writing down his wish quickly and folding the paper several times so that Amanda wouldn't be able to read his wish.

Henry Olin and Enoch


The Henry’s brow raised as Bobbi seemed to bounce between several directions at once. The crowds and activity on all sides seeming to gain her attention and lose it just as quickly- penultimately resulting in her doing a full one-eighty away from the conversation she was having. Henry’s jaw set when she saw him, expecting something along the lines of what had happened yesterday. He watched her intently, waiting for her to say or do something but was pleasantly surprised when all she did was raise a stuffed alligator above her head and waved it above her head. Henry was unsure of how to react to this.

Her attention was almost instantly returned to Drake, and Henry breathed a sigh of relief, his whole body sagging slightly against the tree further- which groaned under his weight. He looked up at the palms far above even his head and shifted his weight off of the tree some. He tugged at the balloon in his hands, enjoying the light bounce. He grunted- feeling a sudden weight on his tail. The appendage was almost entirely muscle and prehensile so he lifted it, curling it around his body and turning around to find the a small child that had stepped on him by accidently. The child scampered off with little more than a look, and as he returned his eyes to the ever shifting tide of people he flicked his tongue habitually. He frowned as he tasted the air. The scents of various body fluids, pheromones of all types, the ocean, alcohol and food. People all smelt very similar, but every person had their own discerning markers that set them aside from one another. They were imperceivable to the regular person, because it’s not like humans stank on average or anything. Drake smelt slightly metallic, as if he placed his tongue on a 9 volt battery or sucked on a coin. The girl he was talked to smelt like chemical of some sort. Sonya had the tinge of phlegm. Amanda smelt like, well, sex. And so on and so forth. He almost never forgot the indicative marker that attributed to a person. It’s why he was so good with names and never forgot someone- he couldn’t. Even if he wanted to.

There were two scents that he could discern that he had smelt before. They were too far away and too diluted by other, stronger smells to determine location or actual existence. The first had been an enigma to him for the longest time until Adam’s funeral- where he attributed it to be most like a mausoleum. Like something old, ripe and sour. Mildewed, almost. It was difficult to pinpoint, and even harder to define, but it was a unique scent. It put him on edge, but it was gone almost as soon as he smelt it. He narrowed his eyes at everyone and no one at the same time.

The second smell was much easier to attribute to someone, for he had smelt it just the other day. An interesting mixture of tobacco and gunpowder. Unlike the previous scent it was much easier to locate, as it got stronger with every second that passed. He followed his nose in the crowd, eventually coming upon the man in question- the curious cat himself- Jake. The man had the lingering smell of liquid courage, characteristic of this festival, that was likely making the approach easier. They hadn’t met by the most normal means, after all. He knew better than anyone that he was a difficult person to approach, both from a personal and instinctual sense.

“Jake Riley, in the flesh.” Henry boomed, mirth encompassing his tone. “Come to take me up on my offer of a free drink?”

“Yeh.” Came the accented response, “If’n you’re still good for it.” Brooks grinned. Characteristic of the man, him and his piece both assaulted Henry’s nose with senses. It was clear he was, as always, packing. Henry didn’t verbally reply, instead pointing to where he’d be so Drake and him could keep eyes on one another, and then motioning for the man to follow him across the street. The crowd quickly dispersed and then weaved around the gentle giant, who approached a tex-mex style vendor in a food truck. The giant placed his hand on the roof of the vehicle, leaning against it as he read the menu, much to the operators chagrin. He was trying to decide if he wanted seconds after his meal less than half an hour ago. When James caught up to him, he looked over to the man.

“Anything jump out at ya?”

Brooks’s two dull greens scanned the menu, lower lip curling slightly, as he ran his hand across his stubbled chin, an index finger particularly trailing his shrapnel scar.

“Fajita sounds good. Chicken, yeah? Could for for another brew if they got that, too.” Brooks nodded, looking over to the scaled man of meat. Henry cast a gaze to the cashier, fishing a plastic card out from his chest piece to pay. The man sent the order forward, and Henry shifted his weight away from the food truck, causing the shocks to shift the car back to stability.

“So, Jake,” Henry said as they waited for the food to be ready, sidestepping to allow the line behind them to put in their own orders. “Tell me ‘bout yourself. Normal people dont go checking out skirmishes. Usually they run the opposite direction. What makes you tick?”

Brooks internally froze. He kept his cool exterior, but inside he was thinking about his responses very carefully. “That’s a hard one, y’know. I guess I ain’t one to run away. Gunshots a block down the street. Hard to ignore, y’know? Figure you check it out, call law as need callin’, other than that I figure it’s a waste a’ your time to investigate a big heap of fuck all.” Bad answer, Brooks. You’re too buzzed for this. Henry flicked his tongue, tasting the air again in case the scent from before reared its head again, but continued the conversation.

“Fishy.” was all Henry said in response. He’d been in this game for almost as long as Enoch had been alive and wasn’t so easily fooled by the dismissive answer. That being said, he didn’t sense that James was someone he’d have to worry about. He had the right kind of air around him. It was difficult to explain, and difficult to ignore. “What brings you into town then? Certainly arent local given our conversation in the alley and your lack of, well...”

Henry tugged on his balloon, making the small and delicate object bob in the air by him for emphasis of James’ lack of balloon.

“Work. I’m with Maersk, at the docks. Supposed to be learnin’ how to operate cranes n’ shit, loading and unloading shipping containers.” Brooks played it cool, despite utterly fucking his cover from the start.

“And how’d you land that job?” Henry said, giving James a sly grin. He’d let the man dig himself the hole, if only to have a little fun before having him come clean. If only for his own sick sense of amusement.

“Shippin’ is a big industry, y’know. Always lookin’ for hands. Applied, n’ I got the job.”

Henry nodded, deciding not to press further on the matter.”Son, whatever it is that you’re running from- just remember that you have friends in town when it catches up to you.” he said, keeping his attention on the crowd and intermittently flicking his tongue more. “Cause shipyard workers, well, they normally don’t smell like gunpowder.”

Brooks froze, eyeing Henry up and down, his amicable expression having changed to one of suspicion, of paranoia. He remained silent, waiting for where Henry was going with this. Henry, noticing his silence tilted his head slightly, peering down at the man. He snorted, seeing his sudden attitude change. He must’ve hit the nail on the head. Huh, well that explains why the man had chosen to check out the scene. “Relax, Jake. If I was planning to do something, I’d have done it by now.”

Brooks lowered his voice cautiously. “So what’s your game, officer? I’m here, you got me.” Brooks darted his eyes, faking confidence and going on the offensive as he went through every scenario in his head.

“No game, friend.” Henry confessed. “Saw someone doing something suspicious. Figured I’d look into it. It’s my job.” he explained, continuing. “But I didn’t find you particularly suspicious. My intuition is usually pretty good, and I don’t get that sinking feeling that I usually do around unsavory individuals.”

The great lizard sighed. “Not that there is anything I can do even if I wanted to. You haven’t done anything wrong. The ball’s in your court. Suppose it’s up to you now- if I should have a reason to be concerned.”

“It’s behind me. Has been for a while now. Just wanna live my life.” Brooks clarified, sighing heavily. Henry smiled and gently patted him on the back. “Then consider me your new best friend in town.”

The giant looked up at his balloon and then down to Brookes and frowned. “You don't strike me as the type to get a balloon. But say you did, what would you wish for?”

“Y’know, I ain’t thought about it much. I guess I’d just wish to forget all the bullshit, y’know? A true new start, ignorance is bliss, yeah?”

That struck a nerve in Henry, who froze at the mention of forgetting the past. He looked over at Drake- who had done wonderful things for FAMA- really, but he hadn’t been tested yet. Not truly, at least. The things he and Adam had seen had broken most men- it almost certainly broke him. The grit necessary to come out alive, to steel yourself and mold into something less than human to simply survive- he hoped that Drake would make it out of the other end. The boy was like his nephew- and Henry was likely the closest thing to an uncle that the boy ever had. There was a pregnant pause, broken when Henry finally spoke. “Amen to that, brother.”
Henry Olin and Enoch
Written with: @CaptainBritton

Henry’s ears picked up a low scraping sound in the otherwise silent building. He followed his ears to face the general direction of the sound, turning around to the emergency exit door. He frowned, deciding that after what had happened, simple confrontation would be the easiest option.

He sighed, walking towards to door and grabbing it by the handle. He pulled- causing the door to strain before the latch eventually gave way and broke off from the door, exposing the peeping tom. Henry stopped, deciding not to press forward or approach the man any further than he already have. They both just looked at one another, in varying states of confusion and shock.

Eventually though, Henry decided to break the pause.

“Uh- hi?”

And so there was Brooks, a deer in the headlights, the door quite literally being broken open in front of him. He stood there, hunched, a pocket knife with blade deployed clutched in a right hand. The discovery of a massive fucking lizard prompted him to back to the opposing end of the alley, the hand clutching the blade close to his midsection, not that it’d be of much use.

And as the ragin’ reptilian broke the silence, a long silence proceeded soon after, Brooks’s eyes darting between his possible escape routes and Henry himself. Unsatisfied with the tight quarters and such a hulking potential foe, he simply played along, piping up in an accented voice best described as somewhere between choking on gravel and throat cancer, with the Appalachian dialect showing through in force.

“Woah, eh- Who- Who the hell’re you?”

Henry put his hands up, palms facing the man in an attempt to show him that he meant no harm. It was likely not exactly disarming, but it was better than nothing. “My name is Henry-” He said, his left hand moving to point at the FAMA insignia on his uniform. “I’m associated with FAMA. Heard a lot of noise and…” He trailed off, realizing that he was rambling. “Sorry for- surprising you.”

Henry breathed, allowing his hands to fall to his sides. “I take it you heard the shots too?” This was a difficult situation- because there were bodies in the building, and he had made a deal to help with Tiamat. He’d have to try to keep this man out of the building if he could- but if he found a way inside, he’d have to lie.

Shit, it was law. FAMA, no less. A risk he couldn’t take. “I did, yeah. Ain’t usually my business, but the shots were a little fuckin’ close for comfort.” He slowly and deliberately folded back in the blade on the knife, guiding it into a pocket on his jeans. He seemed on edge, almost if it wasn’t what he was expecting. Law already here, situation under control enough for a fucking greeter to meet him at the door.

“You alright?” Henry asked, seeing how things had played out, it was completely reasonable to assume the poor man was only a few steps away from having a heart attack himself. Henry decided not to press him for why this had decided to investigate the sound of gunshots and conflict. That was some textbook horror movie first victim shit- but this man was too old and smelt too much like gunpowder to be that naive. “What’s your name?”

Brooks darted his eyes, looking the reptile up and down, sizing him up perhaps. “Is’ uh, Jacob. Jacob Riley.” He seemed to relax a little seeing as the conversation didn’t start with his Miranda rights. Satisfying enough for him, he reasoned, playing into the officer’s questions. The edges of Henry’s lips curled up in a small smile at this.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jacob.” The giant sighed. “Listen, I’m going to be calling this one in in a few minutes. You should get going before the cleanup crew gets here. No reason for you to get caught up in all the paperwork and red tape.” he explained. He looked away, glancing behind him and cringing at the acidic smell of the rapidly deteriorating REAPER agent. It was strong enough that even the man could probably smell it now. Especially if he was familiar with the scent of dead REAPERs.

Eager to avert his own attention, Henry returned his gaze to Enoch. “You going to the festival tomorrow by chance?”

“Is’ Jake, what folks call me.” He clarified at first. “N’ yeah, I’ll be there. Wouldn’t miss that shit. Crowds ain’t to my fancy, but the food n’ hooch are worth it, yeah?” Brooks chuckled a bit, grinning to reveal teeth stained yellow, damaged by years of coffee and cigarettes. “Yeah, I ought get goin’.” The stench hits him. He knows it too well. To say something? No, play it cool. It’s a new life.

“It was, eh, nice meeting’ you, too, Officer- Henry, was it? Yeah.”

“If you see me there, I’ll buy you a drink. Think of it as an apology for scarin’ you.” Henry said. “Take care, Jake.”

“Real kind a’ ya’. You too, Officer.” Brooks gave his farewell, turning off towards his Dodge silently. His expression turned. Careless, Brooks. Fucking careless. New life and you were this close to throwing out the goddamn window because some shots and a fucking lizard man spooked you. Real smart. He slammed his car door, turning the key, before spinning the tires as he took back off to his original destination.

Matthew Detmer

After Amanda's sudden arrival, the day passed quickly. It was a sudden and dramatic- but not entirely unwelcome change. There was something homely about having another person in his dwellings. She livened up the joint to say in the least, the house felt warmer than it was before. Perhaps that radiance was the nostalgic love he carried for her in his heart re-awakening. He does the polite thing, and gives her his room, deciding to take the couch as he is not yet ready to share that level of intimacy with her yet. When she was squared away, the young man excused himself outside. To escape the situation, not think at all, and overthink- he's not sure, as he finds himself doing all three not long after his feet touch the coarse beige sand. It's surprisingly peaceful now that the sun has gone down. Matt takes a deep breath of the salty gulf harbor, and the smell carries wistful memories from what seemed to be forever ago. This is where he had visited many times with his family, way back when he was still young and naïve and silly. This was also the place he had made his home two years ago, so long ago now that the memory seems airbrushed with a layer of rosy powder.

Matt isn't sure how long he stayed out on the beach. He returns to his home long after the sun has disappeared over the horizon.

Matthew suggests that they go to the festival. It's more out of necessity than it is desire- any reason to escape the small, claustrophobic home that was suddenly only so because of the nature of his relationship with the second person occupying it. And excuse to socialize, laugh, to ease the tension. As he drives, searching for parking, he cant help but notice the festival this years. The streets are filled with jovial people, families, children, friends, all meandering through the open air market with smiles and laughter abound. The cloudless blue sky stretches above the commotion, polished with friendly sunlight and the promise of the vacation season. There are booths lined up everywhere, with cheerful vendors selling everything from ripe produce to candies, fresh seaweed to glass vases. It was an annual event, the city has adopted an infectiously merry atmosphere that just can't be ignored. Even more so than in previous years.

He casts his eyes away from the window and finds himself caught on Amanda. The conversation had been... nonexistent- and she had done exactly what she always did whenever she clammed up: Distract herself with her phone. Matthew found himself smiling at the familiarity, but also noticing how beautiful she looked in the glow of the sunlight. She wasn't quite as green as she had been two years ago- she was a woman now. She was beautiful. He felt his mouth dry up and averted his gaze quickly when Amanda looked up from her phone.

"Hey, Matt, remember cousin Nikki?"

He opened his mouth to respond when she showed him a picture of an insect that was way larger than it had any right to be. His mouth dropped, instinctually saying "Holy-" and then following up with "Nope. Nope. Nu-uh." His grip on the steering wheel tightened and he breathed. He wasn't particularly afraid of insects, but he was mostly normal. That was a big bug. He sheepishly looked over at her. "You were always the brave one between us." he says, friendly mirth in his tone.

"But, yeah. I remember Nikki. How is she doing? Staying out of trouble I hope." he says, giving Amanda a knowing and dangerous, but friendly look. Referencing their... incident a few years ago.

He'll have to tell Israel about this one when they find him.

@Ruler Inc@Spoopy Scary

Henry Olin

It's midday. The sky has dressed herself for the occasion, traditional silk skirts the color of forget-me-nots. The sun hangs overhead like a warm, shiny button, the heat of a Florida summer in full effect.

It's a lovely backdrop, Henry thinks— almost like a canvas sewn together by messy cloud stitches. In her haste, the sky has scattered other fluffy clouds across the sky in an attempt to mask the imperfections. Charming, really— the sun has always been impervious to criticisms anyway.

Flocks of Seabirds and Pelicans dot the cerulean blue sky, casting the ocean, always in sight in the beach town, aglow with gold foam and small waves. The city in the distance shines bright as ever though, and Henry stands the Formica-topped tables in the courtyard of a small restaurant. The waitress told him the food wouldn't be much longer. He gave her a small smile and excused himself outside, and now he stood by the curb of the road, a half-empty glass of lemonade cradled between his palm. Simply enjoying the day— the salty ocean breeze making the otherwise hot and humid weather feel far more tolerable.

Unlike many other FAMA officials, Henry wasn't dressed up in body armor. The idea had been to give the public eye a view of FAMA that wasn't quite as militant as it appeared to be. Thus, he had been instructed to stick with to his regular officer uniform. He wore thick, form fitting grey spandex on his chest, padded with an extra layer of black body armor in some locations with yellow accents. It wasn’t particularly special or stylized, but it was comfortable and it fit him- two things that didn’t go hand in hand often. His legs were covered by cargo pants. His feet and tail, per the usual, were bare. It was the closest he had to casual clothing, really. Due to his size, mostly. As an official it fit the situation well enough. His full suit of body armor truly had no equal. It would make him appear more like a military juggernaut- an impenetrable wall of kevlar and gunmetal. For a festival it would be intimidating, and unnecessary.

He could have waited until five in the evening, but when he saw the festival lights and the bright colored food trucks, he couldn't resist coming a tad early, if only for nostalgia's sake. Vendors lined the roads, children, parents, and couples alike wandering about the area. It is crowded, and he struggled to get through without bumping into people. Eventually deciding to grab a snack rather than try to weave through the never ending tide of people. Now, here he was. Waiting for his food.

He notices fairly quickly that everyone is holding a balloon, all in varying shades of color. Some sit at benches, holding pieces of paper in one hand and a pen in the other, deep in thought. Other people already have their papers tied to the balloon, and are holding it tightly in one hand whilst talking amongst each other, laughing into the warm summer day.

Everything around him is joyous, people are laughing and the atmosphere is happy. Even so, he can't help but feel somber, no matter how hard he tries to cheer himself up. His eyes eventually come upon the concert stage, standing down near the end of the road. People mill about, getting seats early or simply enjoying the view. It is a beacon with a million brilliant sparkling lights that flash a wide array of patterns, inwards and outwards like a wave from the center towards the red and white coaches, in zig-zags and in bright alternating flashes. It stands empty, the festival’s show nowhere in sight, but it’s still beautiful.

As he brings his lemonade up to his face for a drink, he notices a nearby vendor calling out to him and approaching, dressed in the food truck’s uniform. Her hands are full of paper and balloons, and she finally approaches him, out of breath but with a cheerful smile on her face.

"Officer!” She says, having gathered that he was associated with FAMA given the large insignia on his chest. “I see you haven't gotten a balloon or a piece of paper yet! Here, you can pick what color you want!" The girl says cheerfully, waving the balloons in her left hand vigorously in front of her face. Henry opens his mouth to say something, but ends up simply staring at her, somewhat confused. Both by the question and how easily the woman had approached him, but luckily for him the girl notices.

"Oh! You're not from around here, are you?" She asks, in her chirpy voice. He nods at this, and the girl continues, "Well, you certainly look like you’re right at home in this weather.” She gestures to all of him, and Henry tightens his jaw. She either doesn’t notice, or does and chooses to move right along.

"So every year during this festival, everyone who's gets a balloon and a piece of paper. You're supposed to write a wish on the paper and at four, we all let the balloons go!" The girl finishes with enthusiasm while bouncing up and down, and nearly letting go of the balloons in the process. Henry, oddly enough, feels touched at the festival tradition. He picks a dandelion colored balloon, and nearly trades it back the moment he is handed it, but manages to restrain himself. He plucks a fancy piece of paper from the girl, who bounds off immediately after in a flourish of pale blue and white. One side of the paper is decorated with gold and red patterns, while the other is simply plain paper. He glances around, trying to find a flat surface to write on, opting to use the wooden support for the restaurant porch when he finds none.

He places the paper, white side facing him against the support, the string of the balloon tangled in his fingers. being extra careful not to put his weight against the structure. Many mistakes and accidental damage have made him quite good at this. He glances out at the road, then up at the sky, which is still clear as ever. He pulls a pen from his hip with his free hand. He absentmindedly clicks it in and out, thinking long and hard for a minute, trying to decide what to write. What did he wish for?

Henry hesitates for a moment, before his pen hits paper and he starts to write. He scribbles the wish in quickly but meaningfully, before returning the pen to his hip and rolling the paper into a small cylinder. He ties the end of the balloon onto the paper tightly, but not so tight so it doesn't crush the fragile paper. It's difficult with his meteor hands, but he doubles, triples, quadruple knots it just to be sure and tugs it to make sure it won't slip. When he is finally satisfied, he holds the balloon in one hand while staring at the crowd that mills all around. A multitude of colored balloons pass by, and he can hear the laughter of children as they talk to one another and their parents about their wishes.

"What did you wish for, Mommy?"

Laughter, high and charming like bells, "Honey, you're not supposed to tell anybody your wish, otherwise it won't come true!"


More laughter, that fades as the two walk away from him. He stares at the paper attached to his own light yellow balloon, and smiles softly.

'Don't tell anybody, huh?' he thinks to himself, before looking up at the sky. He doesn't have much of anyone to tell.

The restaurant doors suddenly open, and a waitress sticks her head out, fluorescent light from inside the building spilling into and mixing with the day.

"Henry?" she calls out gently. "Your food is ready."

The great reptile was never one to shy away from the call of food. To him, the largest burgers and heaviest steaks were closer to finger food- but it was fuel in the tank. He had ordered a burger, grabbing his snack with a polite "Thank you." before he was out the door again. The burger, down the gullet before he had even stepped outside the building. It didn't take long for Henry to find Drake- his body armor smelt metallic and ionized. He was speaking to that odd girl from yesterday. At eating a hotdog. Typical, Drake always is either talking to a girl or has a Weiner in his mouth.

"But, yeah, you're speaking to officer Drake Blackmore, FAMA special forces first class."

Henry can't help but do a mental facepalm. That was quite likely the most boot thing he had heard out of Drake yet. The girl doesn't look too put off, though; just nods and continues talking. Drake – or should he say officer Drake Blackmore, FAMA special forces first class – listens. The girl's back is turned to him, but he's big enough that Drake can likely see him now. The giant gives him a curt but friendly wave as he approaches.

"Mah names Barbara Kimble. Most jus' call me Bobbi the girl announces as Henry gets closer. Henry gives Drake a look, like, See? That's how you tell someone your name. Drake's fairly good at recognizing unspoken communication, probably because of all the time they've spent together, so he'll likely get the message. The giant stops a few feet away from them, leaning against a palm tree that, despite being large and well established, still tilts some against his weight. He's been through this song and dance before, and if Drake was trying to get laid then Henry was going to let him finish shooting his shot before interrupting the conversation. He was many things, but he wasn't going to be a cockblock.

@Ruler Inc @EclecticWitch

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