Forum Thread

Nothing in here but quotes from my old writings-- whatever I can find at least.
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I don't ever edit my writing, so if you see any spelling errors, feel free to tell me.
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Title: Random quotes-1

"He was a stunning thing, his filament glass painted skin riveting together thin, distinct ribs, his form sinewy and sleek--" {Disclaimer, I know how that sounds, but it really wasn't an observation of that nature-- more of an appreciation of the being's odd form? He wasn't exactly human, just humanoid}


"It was asleep one moment, and awake the next, standing just outside of a hollow cylinder, separated by a thick wall of glass."


"You set high expectations for yourself, and that is commendable, but I fear those expectations have been holding you back."


"Tip-toeing barefoot in water puddling over concrete on this dark day, droplets fell over streetlights and cascaded from broken pipes, slapping down to the sidewalks where most hurried under umbrellas, cars sloshing through the pooling streets unable to drink the water as quickly as it came."


"THE MIRE probably once had a ceiling, if the few gargantuan silhouettes of ancient stalagmites were anything to go by. Since certain rock formations were thousands upon thousands of years old, at least those not lost in the collapse of the former cave, quite a few of them could be used as easily recognizable markers in your time travelling.

You were here to collect water from the surface. With the lack of a dome, a surface stream had at some point changed its course and became a constant thunderous crash of water slapping to the subterrain from what felt like hundreds meters up, pouring in tons of water which slipped through the marsh and pooled at the lowest points in the ground. If you were to obtain pure unmuddied water, you’d have to traverse the forest before reaching the bog, and then climb up to the first vestal, a clear pool that led into a series of smaller ones made from round striated craters in the Earth. The clay of the first vestal was also a very pale color, and full of minerals. It was known to have magical properties, not that it would benefit you much, as a human-- but you could always bottle some up and see if you could find a purpose for it."

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Title: Random quotes-2

"Day three in the simulation, and a pile of bodies had been scattered around the room. Alright, in as much seriousness as could be mustered, the lot of you-- the bonafide science team together in the flesh-- got pretty plastered last night, and your stomach was really feeling it. You tried slapping an arm in the direction of a water bottle because you felt like you were going to barf, but it fell over and that was everyone’s queue to groan in hungover misery."


“Oh! That was the sprinkler system. Turns out it’s fully operational in breakroom seventeen, OSHA would be proud.”


"Dust. Orange clay sweltering in the sun. A few dry shrubs hardly alive enough to do more than crinkle parchedly as the air literally obscured from the temperature. It instantly hit you in the face and on the shoulders, bringing an uncomfortable heat on your forehead and bite at the back of your throat from inhaling overcooked dirt dust.

You looked back at them with a grimace, they stood there expectantly as if you were supposed to be excited for miles of literal desert and a road made only from beaten down vehicle tracks that was slightly lighter than the rest of the ground. Immediately you missed the filtered sterile air from inside that smelled vaguely of something rubber and off brand windex. This just tasted like you dropped a marshmallow in an open fire and decided to eat it anyways, crispy pit ashes and all.

“So what’s your big plan now? It’s pretty out in the open, where are we going to camp?” "



“Alright, disclaimer, I didn’t know they were going to DRUG you!”



"It was.. nice. The idea that they could just be humans, not something that loaded and despawned based on your relativity to them."



"Could it be a stretch to say you belonged here, a leading figure in a secret research facility to some mentally demented eggheads that were far smarter than they said in their actions? Maybe that’s what fate was, a destiny cloaked in its sketchy bootleg guise so that it could take a poor sucker by surprise. Everyone had their backstory, didn’t they?

The onset of neurotic introversion did little to help you push off the ground, staggering to get a footing for yourself.

This whole time, he was watching your external reactions to having your reality crushed, and all you could do was curse Renee Descartes for the cartesian plane and giving the rest of you idiots a leg up in scientific evolution. There’s that Philosophy BA you earned at Caltech before transferring to the MIT triple major Physics graduate study program coming back to haunt you. At least the simulation says so, though you didn’t exactly know if it generated the diplomas for you to show off or not too. "



"As soon as you hit the back roads, there was nothing more than a kicked up cloud of dust and a sunburst sky for miles.

Arid wastelands, tires baking off by infrared radiating off of the light dirt tracks of the desert, the inside of the car was a much more fortunate place to be than the post-apocalyptic hellhole outside.You wouldn’t be able to tell where you were going even if you tried, there was just land and only land for miles and miles, nothing discernable at all."

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Title: Big excerpt for no real reason

Silence in suspension, going neither direction yet projecting aimlessly in the confines of expansless space with nothing to touch, no ground nor gravity. Just silence. A sense deprivation pool that could not be stepped out of, had no stop.

It allowed one to see things.

Besides dancing phosphenes which in space had taken to the art of synchronized dance every time one’s eyes had closed to become the stimulus the brain had otherwise been choked of, thoughts started to become abstract. The internal monologue became words written on fine aged parchment in cursive, like a typewriter typing script for the eyes to read, but the contents not be decipherable by the author. It was writing blind, or otherwise might as well have been blindness.

You were losing the cognitive ability to understand yourself without a world to be relative to. Language was ingrained in you and that still held true, but it was quickly losing its prevalence, and in time it would be lost fully. In time. In more time.

Now you were amongst rock, a cluster of particles in space, holding onto each other fervently, afraid to shed, afraid to let go. This was also your mind, in its forsaking of its organic nature to become itself acclimated to its new superposition, living, just unclassifiable as life without the environment relevant nor the functions to be determined so.

Repetitive. These words were repetitive, as they were all your mind had left to ponder. This was not a reward, this was a prison.

If truly a solvable problem, then all you could do would be forget all, and turn this place into the closest attainable paradise, or a living non-existence. You would force yourself to be dormant if time itself had no longer desired its embalmative post. And yet all you had to touch was in itself melding to you, the last source of magnetism around. Your coat had however been too weighted, and had formed behind you somewhat of a comet trail, tugged by the small amount of inertia it could maintain even in nothingness with few to no rules.

You had nothing physically attached to you with enough mass to help you redirect course. Not a pack, not a weapon. Therefore, once again revisiting the possibility of reaching the resonating rift likely receiving its fuel from Earth vibrations or held open by Combine forces, any amount of hope that you could perhaps leave was denied to you.

Besides, you chose your fate. You chose to die in the name of all that you wanted to continue living. You had come to know that it was either a sacrifice for the many or a sacrifice OF the many.

By now, you knew which you chose. It was not a choice you could repeal.

The world was beautiful before, just on its own, but you had at some point come to depend on its presence, and did not realize how it would feel to lose it. Essentially immortal now, your mere seconds may have very well been thousands of years to that planet, and in your current state you couldn’t even feel more than a dull pain.

Your grief had collapsed on itself, lost with your will. It was acceptance that kept it constant, but not unbearable. It was as if self compassion too had frozen, now alienated from all that was ever your narrow line of life, just a pinprick on a collage board of all living and nonliving, even semi-living beings in the universe.

It had come to feel like so long ago that you’d started to forget, and couldn’t even remember the simple things, such as the sound of pedestrians going about their day to be, or the nip of crisp air during a cool autumnal midnight.

You remembered the concepts, but like a face washed away to time, you could only remember that the eyes were blue, not the unique starburst patterns and yellow flecks painted like an artist’s last flower. And slowly, slow enough to not elicit notice, even the remembrance of that principle face and those eyes would fade too.

[...]

[You’re making some cosmic entity out there laugh!]

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Title: More random blocks of quotes

" "Mrs. Windsor, I'm back." You set down the case with a premeditated gentleness and sat down, ignoring the door to the study where you were expected to be at the moment. Along the faded dusty green walls were a few different decorative prints, one a candle tied to a clear string being tugged off into an endless sea, another of children blowing iridescent bubbles as they sat with gargoyles.

Taking a moment to soak it in, you could picture the shimmering sphere forming at the end of a wand, almost convincingly magic, if not for the poisoning that age had implanted within the thoughts that fed imagination. It all faded away as quickly as it came, and you noticed how oddly quiet it was in your usually racing mind. You glanced over to the bookshelf, then the TV which was pretty much as good as static with how late it was, but even so you knew you didn't have time to really get invested in either at the moment.

As it was, it was boring. It was the usual amount of lonely, and the usual amount of quiet, save for the sound of trains packing and loading not far away in the trainyard."


"Ferdinand the fish was quite intriguing and playful, and even a talkative one too- sometimes he'd let out two bubbles instead of one! With your little hint of bitterness aside, you didn't particularly dislike the little animal. He was nice to look at, being an odd kind of goldfish to which you recalled was known as Ryukin Calico, one the woman had snagged off a showfish breeder and payed a ridiculous amount of money for. It had something to do with the length of his fins and the quality of his scales, though the woman seemed to only care that he was of value, and felt that you should somehow be grateful for her expensive, unnecessary gift as if it were obligation. When she wasn't busy insisting you call her mother, she'd be attempting and failing to buy your affections through private schooling and violin lessons. Again, it wasn't like you absolutely despised her, but you felt like she only adopted you for another headline in the news, "Widow gazillionaire honoring late husband by taking care of poor orphan with undisclosed origins". "



"As the shower turned on, steam whafted up and fogged the mirrors. The bathroom had always smelled faintly of various assorted fragrances, a mixture of vanilla, lavender, almond- a sweet and nutty hint, and other more herbal scents tossed into the bathing concoctions the woman would experiment with. The fumes coming off of her creations were sometimes able to gas out the area, and you'd have to prop open the awning windows which sat in a portrait setting, with obscured panes making it hard to see out of when they were closed. The bathroom itself had a few paintings protected by thin filament to keep them dry, all framed in extravagant gold swirls and flowers. While it wasn't the only bathroom, it was unfortunately the closest one to the dorming quarters. The building itself used to be a school originally, and for a short while an office for the Montgomery Industrial Company, which then through marriage became Moncoury property. It was only one of many buildings the Mrs. owned, but it was by far your favorite, for it was the one you'd been raised in.

You weren't around for most of the renovations, but you did remember when they were recreating the observatory dome, one that had been destroyed in a two story fire in the 1940's which left the fourth and fifth floor off limits. It still was, but you were allowed up the North corridor which just had a bunch of useless rooms and some leftover construction materials. The Observatory and greenhouse made up the fifth floor, which was once solid wall before they knocked down the rubble and remastered the roof. "

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Title: Creepy sort of excerpt from something

Her lips spoke slowly, but not even a whisper of it reached your ears. Her eyes were as wide as a bovine's, her heel pinned to a screw as it spun on the stage. She seemed to be a mechanical doll.

You found yourself standing directly in the center of a spacious, well-decorated room, staring up at the portrait of a boy who's face you couldn't quite remember.

"Not yet my dear." The blond ballerina was off her pedestal and she stepped into view. "Don't go yet, your mother brought you rosemary."

Her tone was a delightful chirping of a songbird as she reached her tipped claws up and sprinkled the plucked pieces of green onto your face. You attempted to rise from the goose plush chair, but a smell had waft up in a silky ribbon scented of herbs and tied around your throat- securing you to the backrest like the reins of a pony. Restricting.

She pitched her head to the side as if a child watching a sparrow on its windowsill, retaining the same enthralling smile. You pushed shut your eyelids, but they were then painfully propped open with metal prongs. The room around you faded, and a single shiny needle crept up, closer and closer, to your one, open, eye.

You sat up in through the complete darkness of your window. It was lightly raining, and the cars the passed by made a faint swishing noise which you could hear from inside your room. The walls were painted with semi-realistic wispy clouds which you could see only partly through the low silvery light that came from the moon. Nothing but a bad dream. That's all it was.

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Title: More of that previous work

"Silence permeated through the halls, the air stiff though this particular quarter had been decorated with light unlacquered wood, a sort of sandy color that would be seen on the beach. The morning light had come from the spotlight windows placed in intervals so that there were gaps between them, striping the walkway where underneath sat potted vines that made walking through just a little more tolerable. Part of the mansion had been connected to some office space where the complex was more renovated, and as you got closer to that part of the building, the scent of files and office carpet became stronger. For the most part though, you didn’t go over to that corner of the city block."


"School laptop in a sensible folder carrier, the thing was thin and sleek, the color of steel with black trimmings and a black keyboard. It wasn’t the prettiest thing, but it had a tan band-aid over the webcam that had just started to peel where it wrapped around the top and peeked out on the other side. It just ran the regular windows programs, and had enough computing power for keeping documents and simple flash games, though anything not typing or little dinosaurs jumping over cacti and it’d heat up really fast to the point it had to shut itself off. It was designed completely to combat fun.

You hoped Ferdinand wasn’t offended that you chose to leave your room today, but the dark and rusty light was making it hard not to drift off and you really needed to go through the new required book list for literature class. You had access to the audiobooks, but it’d be nice to buy a physical copy to go along with them-- and for that, you decided, you might just take the debit card and head out to one of those charming little cafe-bookstores that you passed on the bus on your way to violin lessons."



"Inhaling softly, you ran your hands over the coarse fibers of the rug. Pretty standard rug for a workplace. You wondered why so many of them chose that kind of carpet that most shoes would loudly scuff on when it would break everyone else’s concentration. That was your cue to get up, before your skin was imprinted any more by the rough texture.

You’d have to walk all the way back to the front of the block where the mansion sat, though technically one building, it was sort of three different buildings connected by hallways on the first and third floors. This particular building didn’t have the hanging glass tube hallways that the newest building did, since it had been fairly old, and the other one was completed only around a year ago. The construction was an eyesore on your way back from the public library, but the noise was barely noticeable unless you were walking down that street to get to the part of the block you lived on. Now it seemed kind of wrong to have the workers in hardhats missing and the fences taken down. It was a brand new building, and that was it, that stiff modernism. If anything, it matched your laptop. It hardly went well with the old art deco, slightly gothic style of the mansion.

In the middle was a cross courtyard with a cherry blossom and a pond full of Koi, decorated with hanging moss from the balconies and rocks covered with a different kind of moss. It was prettiest when it rained and the concrete walkway was littered with fallen petals. For the most part though, your part of the world was small, since you’d been pretty much confined to your one singular room and the showers out of the hundreds of others in the complex for most of your life. Just on a far wing, pushed out of the way. You were a public display mostly, until the news died down and you were just another used toy that didn’t really mean much like a birthday present that the recipient pretended to love, but left in a box out of sight after everyone had left and the excitement died down.

That was why, no matter what you accomplished or what new thing you tried, even if you were a full blown child prodigy you wouldn’t really receive any praise or attention. You weren’t really her kid, you were her orphan, a trophy she waved around for better business and to look like a good person. You never forgot that.

Instead of being bitter about it, you laughed curtly in spite of yourself, and went on with your day. Little did you know that this day wasn’t going to go anything like you planned."

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Title: Random quotes-3

"Being a replacement is often a thoughtless endeavor. No one often thinks as they stand on the pavement in front of their old family house that just centuries ago their great grandparents were envisioning a grand structure as some sort of pipe dream to place on that plot of land in front of them. Yet, here is their distant progeny, standing in the same spot, occupying the same space, fulfilling a requirement of human proportionate to land in square foot.

Hence, a slot was to be filled. "


"Universal omnipotence in its own was being smart enough to see what you lack, yet not knowing how to obtain it. Of course capitalistic were the diagrams of exponential growth flashed in quick wastes of lifetimes trying to figure out the formula, knowing how limitless both ambition and potential were, but this information was useless to you.

You and I were, afterall, the one both singularly and plurally tired of trying to become some ultimatum of a god. Believe it or not, being infinitely everything means that part of you can also oppose being so, since all conditions are true in the can canning universal glitch of a horror mess that was the problematic marriage of time, space, and everything in between. The schrodinger teenager dilemma. In that thinking, we’re both infinitely powerful, and the weakest of us in all existence. Did I mention we’re prions? There’s a specific quote on the strength of individual links that comes to mind, but nevertheless, we have one current dilemma."


“Okay boomer.” At that moment, the song had started back at the beginning and played the line ‘I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed’, and you looked so smug as he caught it. Oh you.. you!! YOU!!"


That one was just funny to me-- but I'll be done now. I'm really tired! I had to wake up for yet another meeting! Yay! :')

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Title: Just others' Gem OCs

Others' gem OCs that I'd choose to be members of my court-- already have written SU aus so thought to do this as well-- maybe I'll share some quotes from those too!

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