i. ✦ welcome to our new site! we have done a full revamp of our layout as you can see. all threads/posts transferred from bearbones will be under the archive category. if you would like to move any threads from these archives, please let us know in staff requests!
additionally, please feel free to check out our welcome thread for all transferring and new users to meet and talk!
ii. ✦ tnw has also undergone major changes as populations took a major hit in the recent breakout of natural disasters that shook many major groups to their core. we must stick together now more than ever and tend to our wounded and race for resources.
iii. ✦ check out some of these recent oneshots our community members have made!
crow please u already know I got a girl ready if you're gonna do The Thing
when this r e p e t i t i o n ends behind the window shades, a semi-conscious sorrow sleeping in the bed I've made —— that most unrestful bed, that most original of sins, and you'll say that's what I get when I let ambition win again. I'd hate to let you [sub]down,[/sub] so I'll let the waters [sup]rise[/sup] and drown my dull reflection in the naïve expectation in your eyes. back in a cast bit-part, back when I felt most free, I had a butcher's / heart and no-one thought they knew me . . . . . . [ ★ ]
[align=center][align=center][div style="0px; width:450px; height:auto; text-align: justify; font-size: 9pt; line-height:13px;"]One of the most startling things about Dema was how much it reminded Evan of home. The clouds, the buildings, the general gray of the area could easily be mistaken for his home... if his home wasn't covered in trees, or overrun with the feeling of fear.
He'd been told by others (and by others, he meant the people he could find during his "scheduled outside hours" after dark) that the other districts were different, that certain people went to certain places to fight against their certain issues. He was trying his best to piece together what he could, but it was confusing, and most of the people he spoke to were like him - on the verge of having some kind of anxiety-induced meltdown.
Confidence, control, those were these peoples "faults," according to them. In this place that seemed more like some awful hallucination at times than his reality, Evan was quickly learning that when these people repressed, they repressed hard.
Speaking of repressing, Evan clenched his teeth as he felt a new wave of fear (he couldn't explain it, but it was fresh and clearer than the rest) wash through the room, sending the man searching for the source.
It wasn't hard to find - his dark red cloak stuck out against everything else metal and gray in the room - and Evan found himself unable to look away as the Bishop stalked ever closer to him.
He'd been asked to leave his living space-slash-holding cell to head to the Tower at dawn, but asking was more of nicety. He knew where Evan would be. There was no point in refusal, Evan had nothing to gain, and too much to lose.
Evan was still unfamiliar with this form. It wasn't like staring at the mirror, it wasn't a weird, sickly blackness that oozed and stuck to the back of his mind... this form was almost normal. Like reality warped, leaving behind.. whatever He was. It was strange to think that the thing that had broken into his head and shredded every thought of comfort or safety he'd ever possessed was real, this was the creature that had plagued every thought, left him terrified...
And he was old. And yet, Evan couldn't see anything but some undefinable power behind his bloody eyes. Evan's throat tightened as the Bishop stopped before him, red eyes gazing into blue. It felt like he was drowning as the Bishop stared him down. Evan wanted to look away, to collapse, to do anything but continue the stare-off, but he was drowning and dying at the same time...
A whimper broke the silence.
(His.)
And with that, a winner was silently announced.
"Evan, how nice of you to join me." Evan thought he caught a hint of smugness in the Bishop's voice as he spoke, dark and distorted - yet.. familiar.
It should've been familiar, of course. It'd been the voice inside his head for such a long time, perhaps it was more concerning hearing it coming out of someone else's mouth than it was hearing the tones themselves.
The Fourth Bishop controlled insecurities. That was what he'd been told.. which made total sense for his luck that he was stuck in this district, that he'd been visited by this particular bastard instead of any other particular bastard.
"We'll be talking on the roof today." Their conversations had been... non-existent at this point.
pulled this out of my drafts to clear it out. hmmm. what was crows thinking. what was her mind doing. hmm. is it worth it to finish. hmm
when this r e p e t i t i o n ends behind the window shades, a semi-conscious sorrow sleeping in the bed I've made —— that most unrestful bed, that most original of sins, and you'll say that's what I get when I let ambition win again. I'd hate to let you [sub]down,[/sub] so I'll let the waters [sup]rise[/sup] and drown my dull reflection in the naïve expectation in your eyes. back in a cast bit-part, back when I felt most free, I had a butcher's / heart and no-one thought they knew me . . . . . . [ ★ ]
