Iāve been writing a bunch of tiny scenes for Zero Parades just to get into it, hereās a hardcore angst pre-canon Hershel/Mel bit I liked:
Data pools in your numb, ringing ear. The one the phone's pressed to. Honey dripping in, slow, like torture, as Mel asksĀ Why are you calling, CASCADE?
Cold metal pressed to the underside of your chin. Your own hand curled around the grip, your own finger caressing the trigger. Your own, and yet you seem to have no control over it. Too fucked up, crossfaded on schnapps and Ramses's legendary fucking joints, and your body's doing that thing where you just have to strap in for the ride.
"There's a gun to my head," your mouth says.Ā Make her worry, your body says.Ā Make her fucking care.
Silence on the other end of the line. Then, cautious and hesitant. "What does the person holding the gun want?" Mel asks, in a way that might mean she knows it's you or that she's trying to be calm, it's so hard to tell, it's always so hard to tell.Ā
"You," you say.Ā
"What about me?"
"Justā¦" you say, then swallow a stream of bile that you didn't feel rising. "Just you." Voice hoarse from smoke and stomach acid.
"There isn't a gun, is there, CASCADE?" No more caution. Just exhaustion.Ā Show her you mean business. You fucking mean it.
Your hand flicks the safety off, right next to the mouthpiece, and you hear Mel inhale. "You know there's a fucking gun. You gave me the money to buy it."
"Operant," Mel starts, slowly, calmly, all business, not even CASCADE anymore. Not even a name.Ā Did we fuck up, asks the little bit of your mind that's still in there, and your body answersĀ Not yet, but it probably doesn't know what it's talking about. Probably never did.
"Come on, Mel," you say.Ā Whine.
"They never should have sent you," Mel says, then sighs. "You were always volatile."
"Just say my name."
"You want me to say your real name."
"It's a secure line, according to you, and everyone here fucking knows it already anyway," you say.Ā Still whining.Ā "I just. I want to hear it in your voice."
"And you'll kill yourself if you don't," Mel says, flatly.
"I don't know," you say. "Fucking. Maybe. Maybe."
"Grow up, Operant. You're 30."
"You remembered my birthday," you say, and something in your heart flutters.
"I see it every day when I open your file and wait for you to tell me about your latest failure," Mel says. "Kill yourself or don't. I'm sure HOLOCENE can clean up the mess."
She hangs up. All of the forces keeping you upright leave your body at the click, and you sink to the ground, motionless, gun fallen from your hand.
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BLUEPRINTS: Of course. There is a room *behind* this one, locked within your former double's head.
Holocene is probably my favorite character in the game. Had an absurd amount of fun painting this one - all the textures, lines, dotted patterns, splashes and little details.
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
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