My eclectic interests

i'm going to kill god

i'm going to delete my blog

i'm going to explode

i'm going to blow up this entire website

i'm going to become the joker

this is going to be my villain origin story

oh you know

He eyed me suspiciously, and I could hear the group of teenagers behind me immediately start whispering to their phones about a ‘bully finally getting his comeuppance’. I can’t entirely blame them, both him and I look like walking stereotypes, him even moreso now that he had an eyebrow peircing and long, sideswept bangs. He looks everything like a former emo band kid and NOTHING like a maurading black sorcerer who summoned ancient evils to wreak havoc on unsuspecting kingdoms.

(Four FUCKING times, thankyouverymuch!)

He looked over my shoulder at them, then back to me with some of his old cruelty in his eyes. “Say you’re sorry for Epaphra.” He cooed, clearly basking in the attention.

That hurt. Even knowing it was meant to, I couldn’t help the slight flinch. Despite that I felt a fire flare in me that I’d thought had been thoroughly doused in the waters of sheer *age*… But it seemed I still couldn’t let him win. Couldn’t just walk away.

Years ago I’d have leapt over the counter and throttled him where he stood for daring to speak her name, but in this new world that would be even worse.

“I’m sorry about Eprapha.” I replied, my voice breaking on her name. I felt my eyes well up, but was able to reign myself in enough to not actually cry.

He blinked at me, clearly caught truly off guard for the first time since I severed the Bering Land Bridge so long ago. He turned to the young lady next to him in the shops apron and said, “A chai latte for…” He trailed off then, looking at me expectantly.

“Morris.” I replied as I almost collapsed against the counter. “I shortened it long ago.”

He nodded and turned back to the girl. “For Morris. And make it an extra large.”

“Thank you.” I gasped, almost giddy with relief. I had my card in my hand but he waved me off.

“Sit down before you fall down.” He snipped, turning his nose up and dismissing me.

'He’s cute when he sulks.’ I found myself thinking, then blinked. Though I wasn’t unfamiliar with the *concept* of him being attractive, he used to used seduction all the time as a manipulation tactic, I’d never previously considered it in relation to *me*. Usually when I saw him he was laughing maniacally and covered in blood, neither of which are things I’m into. Dazed, I wandered off to do as he’d said.

I was expecting to hear the purple-haired girl call my name, but instead some ripped black jeans walked into my line of sight and a cup was unceremoniously thrust under my nose. “Here.” He snipped before pulling out the chair across from me and throwing himself down. He had his own drink in hand, and promptly pulled out and started fiddling with a phone. I started at him bemusedly. His eyes occasionally flicked up to mine before snapping back down to his screen. Eventually I noticed the faint blush rising on his cheeks every time this happened.

It was cute.

“Thanks, Tethra. I really appreciate it.” I replied, chuckling as his face went pink and his shoulders hunched. I picked up my drink and took a slow sip, savouring the flavour and the memories it brought back. Nothing else ever worked to soothe like this did.

“Why chai?” He asked, breaking the silence but still not looking up.

“It reminds me of my time in India.” I admitted, knowing the knowledge held no power anymore. “I lived there for… A time, years ago. Back when they thought I was albino, not caucasian. I travelled from village to village, protecting people from predators and administering medicine to the ill. It was where I learned to meditate, and where I calmed my temper. Usually I make it myself, as I find the process soothing, but today I just really needed a sudden slice of calm.”

His shoulders hunched even closer. “And then I brought up Eprapha.” He replied, contrition seeping into his voice. “I’m sorry, Morrigu. I won’t lie and say I didn’t mean it, but I truly didn’t think it through when I mentioned her. I haven’t seen you since Antioch, and I guess habit just got the better of me.”

“She was pregnant, did you know? She had her own mystic powers, and we hoped -*I* hoped- she would be able to carry to term.” I replied, rather than addressing his apology.

“And then I exploded a mountain on her.” He continued, voice wretched.

“And then you exploded a mountain on her.” I agreed, my mind playing back that frantic last day, where everyone was trying to get beyond the range of Vesuvius before it blew. I had climbed the mountain, searching for my foe and hoping to stop the destruction, and my beloved Eprapha… “She organized a fairly large evacuation of the poorer sections, but miscarried due to the stress and bled out. The caravans she commandeered and led left her behind as she lay there.”

“I am *so sorry* Morrigu. I never… Well, I never counted the bodies I left behind, just gloried that they weren’t mine. If I’d known at the time I’d probably have been worse, but … It’s been a long time since then.”

My eyebrows rose in surprise. Tethra had never shown any hint of remorse before in the long millenia I’d known him… But also he was correct that we have been living for a very long time. My priorities had also shifted. Perhaps this was true for him as well.

What *happened* to you?“ I asked, needing to know the cause of his change of heart. He went bright pink, then sighed and dropped his face into one palm.

"This is so embarrassing.” He muttered, then raised his head to face me straight on.

Tethra was many thing, but a coward had never been one of them.

“Okay, so, due to a hilarious and involved series of cultural misunderstandings I… Set a despotic shogun on fire for disrespect and accidentally became the guardian kami of an isolated prefecture in Japan. And they REALLY loved me and it was REALLY… Nice. They still obeyed and worshipped me, but they did it with smiles and glad hearts. And at first it freaked me out so I ritualistically sacrificed the town’s hero to scare them all back into proper terror. Buuuuuut it turned out that not only was he abusing his wife and kids, he was raping his wife’s young sister who lived with them. While harping on how generous he was for keeping such a morally lacking young slut around. She cried tears of joy when I killed him, and named her baby after me. Kōki, for light, hope, and good luck. And then I couldn’t just *leave*, he needed me! So… I stayed. And they worshiped me. And they *loved* me. And it was nice. I’d grown out of wanting world dominion, and I couldn’t destroy a world with Kōki in it, so I just stayed. For… I don’t even know, centuries? Then Shiroyama happened and I just…. Couldn’t stay.” He fell silent then, lost in his green tea and memories.

“Couldn’t stand the final fall of feudalism?” I sniped, unable to help myself. He looked at me strangely, clearly wondering what was going on in my head.

“No? I cared about industrialization, not feudalism. It’s a stupid governmental system. I understand why it developed all over the world, but I have no loyalty to it.”

“Not even when it paved the way for your rise to power?” I asked, needing to know…

He laughed then, so long and loud it caught everyone’s attention. Suddenly I was the one blushing, and he was wiping tears from his eyes. “What exactly do you think my Tragic Backstory™ is, you total dunderhead?”

I frowned at him, not sure where this was going. “You rode in with kings, alike in all ways. You spoke like them and sported like them and fell to their depravities. Your hands were always as soft as any noble. It was clear to all what class you were born into.”

He was laughing again. “Yeah, no.” He replied, smirking at me and taking a sip of his tea. “Though I’m glad to know I had you all fooled. I was a prostitute’s bastard child, and was sold into slavery before my fifth year. I was passed around from house to house, my temper and wit always making me unwelcome, before I was bought by a noble with plans to sacrifice me to a demon. Which he did, don’t get me wrong, but it turns out I had more rage and hatred packed into my small frame than his entire coven had greed. So the demon offered me a deal: he would give me the power to wreak my revenge on all who opposed me, and I would be the mortal instrument of his sadistic will.” He took another sip of his tea. “It was actually a mutually beneficial arrangement, for as long as it lasted. By the time our pact was broken, however, I was powerful and cruel in my own right, so I just carried on.”

“What broke it?” I asked, fascinated despite myself. He raised his eyebrow at me, making a face like I was stupid.

It was a face I had seen a lot.

“You did.” He explained to me slowly, as if I needed the extra time to understand. “You drowned him. Him, the whole middle east, most of the rest of Asia. You remember? That dude with the boat and the zoo.”

“Noah.” I supplied, smiling myself. He’d been a gullible sort, and had truly believed me an angel of his God. He had *listened*, though, and at the time I hadn’t had the breathing room to worry about accuracy. Or blasphemy. I was rapidly running out of both time and options, and him saving his family and his animals had soothed me somewhat.

I thought back to all the calamities we had created, all the pain and hurt I had caused in the name of the needs of the many, and that he had strewn about casually and with glee. Unable to help myself, I asked, “What do you regret the most?”

“Immortality.” He replied, quick and decisive. “At the time I thought it would be grand to live forever and never know fear again, but instead I sit here, exhausted down to my very molecules, still able to remember the face of the man who pinned me to the alter and raised his knife. It’s been long enough that his whole civilization has been forgotten, but because of one impulsive demand at twenty /he/ never will be.”

I sighed, knowing exactly what he meant. “I hear you. I’m pretty sure the goddess who 'blessed’ me,” I stressed the air quotes, rolling my eyes, “Expected my boon to be to stay by her side forever. But I was also young and stupid and there were pretty girls everywhere. I asked to be able to defend my people for all time, instead. A noble cause, but exhausting. And the bloodline has spread so far that basically everyone is 'my people’. I can’t escape it.”

“So what do you do?” He asked, eyes shining with a sympathy no other person could offer, for no other person could truly comprehend.

“Oh, I’m a firefighter.” I replied lightly. “I’m immortal, so burning buildings are fairly whatever, you know? And it’s a physically demanding career, so every few decades I 'move back home’ for 'health reasons’, then quietly 'get sick’ and 'die’. I actually move to the mountains for a few years to live in isolation and just *breathe*, then I pick a new town and do it all over again.”

The only known copy of the Hussie “First Folio” of c. 1625 exists in fragments in the Bodelian Library (MS. Eng. misc. c. 413). No publishing details are available, provenance is unknown.  

Prologue:

The uncertain glory of an April day, Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, Limns a youth upon which no name did weigh These thirteen springs. That burden will be one He will take up this morn, and so in this This gentle youth becomes a gentleman, By taking on the name that’s rightfully his - A token that betokes a divine plan. Where others, who did Fate give name at birth Can have no say in what their fortune tells (Whether lives of misery or of mirth), This youth may choose his Heavens, or his Hells. He stands now at the door of childhood’s room, Now Let him learn his name, and learn his doom.  

Act 1, scene 1

   Voice: Enter name.

   Boy: Letters are appearing! As if drawn by Some fiery hand - and now I ken they spell The name “Zoosmell, Lord of Dung”? Fie on this, Fie! A shallow jest - better be the names Of rustics than nobility besmirched.

   Voice: Try again.

   Boy: More words appear, these pleasing to the eye - I’ll be “John Egbert”, a name for saints and Kings, I trow. Now to take up arms and go, But where among these cakes and bills for rude Entertainments could they be? In this drawer?

Looks in drawer

   Boy: No arms. Damn my addled mind: they rest Beneath the cake inside yon magic chest.

   Voice: Remove CAKE from MAGIC CHEST

Boy retrieves arms

   Boy: No antics or hilarity for now, I must needs store these in my Sylladex. What else lies here? Some Gyves that feign to lock, A Blade that cannot wound, a Hat, a Mask, Tricks to mimic smoke or blood, a Treatise On japes, a Volume on the life of a Man of wisdom who traffick’d in dark arts. All this I fain would take ‘gainst future need, For now mayhaps this smoke will show it’s meed.

Takes smoke pastilles

   Boy: Alas! my arms I now can’t bring to hand! This Sylladex is like unto the sack That peddlers use to cart about their wares – And all that they have pack’d must be unlade ‘Ere that which they pack’d first will come to light. No matter now: anon I’ll set it right.

Examines bill

tried to use wayback machine to see how many notes it had before it was brought back, but it started circulating again on nov 11 and i could only find one from nov 27, where it still only had 783 notes

in an attempt to find how obscure this post was before its resurrection, i went all the way down in the reblogs to see how many it had. and it looks like, before being brought into the modern day by @homestuckmadethisfanart​, it only had FOUR reblogs?

of course that wouldn’t include deactivated blogs, so there were probably more than just 4, but probably not TOO much more if that’s all that’s left of non-deactivated reblogs. especially because the average amount of notes op got on all their other posts (there’s only 25 of them so it was easy to calculate an average) was between 3-4 notes.