Recent Statuses

1 mo ago
Current "You tell me I make no difference. At least I [fudging] try. What the [fudge] have you done?" - In My Eyes, Minor Threat
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1 mo ago
My friends talk about things going "back to normal". I'm not really of the opinion that I've seen a state of normalcy worth preserving but I believe we can make one that is.
2 mos ago
Periodically it hits me that my superpower is being superhumanly judgemental
2 mos ago
I'm 21 but looking at a calendar and identifying how few opportunities there are to schedule significant, novel, and emotionally enriching things makes it seem like I may as well already be 90.
2 mos ago
You Can't Break A Boomerang®
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Alden The Black

How the mighty had fallen. The once beautiful Alden Blackstar had everything in the world to live for. He was wealthy, young, attractive, strong; you name it: he had it. The world was his for the taking and the best part was that his father was in the process of taking it for him. But unfortunately for him, things changed, as they so often do when they are progressing as one wishes. While some suspected, and most of whom wholeheartedly accepted, that Alden had been injured in a hostile takeover engineered by his own kin, Alden knew the truth. He had been stricken by his master, punished for his misdeeds and as penance for his gluttonous embrace hedonism, never again would he feel the warmth of a maiden fluttering her eyelashes his way nor would he be severing heartstrings with his razor sharp jawline any time soon.

Just as a runner would feel a pleasure when he ought to feel agony, hoofing the soil itself into submission, he had made his own flesh subject to the font from which the world had emerged. It was that which brought him where he now stood, to the palace of the Garlands. Jocun was a man who Alden admittedly knew exceptionally little about. In years past, he had little reason to care about the politicking and whatever goings-on there were within the land, his concerns had essentially been limited to his business. But becoming a servant of that which was sacred meant safeguarding that which was more mundane.

Approaching the gates of the palace, he had several testimonials to his identity, letters of recommendation and various other papers to verify his identity should they not be able to spot him on sight. That said, he doubted that he would really need them. After all, he was no longer the boyishly handsome youth Alden Blackstar, he was the saggy-skinned remnant Alden The Black. The title, like a weighted shackle, was not something he'd endorsed but there was little he could do to divorce himself from it at this phase.

As he peeked through the gates towering iron bars, he felt a fresh presence come to stand amongst the gathering crowd. A fresh-faced, unkempt youth, looking a bit peckish, stood hooded with his face obfuscated, though not nearly so thoroughly as Alden's own. Suddenly inquisitive, Alden stepped near him with a small wave and a quiet humor about him as he closed the distance, "Is it true that our very own king is subject to his queen?"
Hey, maybe dead/divorced/shitty parents is a prerequisite for activating your superpowers.

I think that's basically just a superhero trope in general
Thanks for the posts, gents
I held you like you were a kitchen knife
Now I don't hold you at all
My friends and I have a band but don't really have a place to practice since we live in the city. We used to use a local college campus's music center as a practice space when it's empty but with the pandemic closing it down, we've not really been in a good position for that sort of thing. So we'll probably be back to that shortly-ish.

Do you ever drag your hands against the edges of things just to feel your fingertips shudder as the edges lock in and out of each and every ridge like a snowboard jittering down a pyramid?
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