execution hour.

    “Im not filled with sodium chloride, mr. wiltshire.”

     The alien huffed & semi held his breath the second their white-haired unwanted guested was just too close to their things. Felix couldn’t afford to leave them out of his sight if he valued his research & equipment as much as he thought he did. It was never really a good sign whenever Charlotte appeared in their lab, which usually meant one of two things; he needed some kind of drug to use at the school or simply to harass the young alien. No matter which option, it ended with Felix being a little more than irritated in the aftermath. He just hoped that Charlotte would be a little more lenient with him today; Felix had just hit a breakthrough in his research & the last thing he needed was him messing with it & causing everything to be redone.

    “Yes. You do. I can’t have you parading in here without a reason.”

Npc? What the hell are they talking about? The star of the show, and entertainment for death? Geez, they’ll be surprised when I just come back from the dead.

Death, he had experienced it far too many times. Hearing that this person was going to kill him didn’t faze him. Although he did notice the other members of the group had excluded him and left him in front of the host. It had thrown the defect in for a loop, considering they looked around puzzled on how the hell they were able to move so fast. Too many things were going on, and the host kept rambling about fate and votes.

At the mention of dress up he was beyond baffled. Is this some kind of joke? Still, the host was oddly familiar. Like he had seen them before. To be honest it was humorous that the defect expressed no fear. “I don’t mind the change of wardrobe kid, but who are you? I swear I’ve seen you before.” He crossed his arms tilting his head to the side as if trying to decode the other, leaning close to them.

Without thinking he grabbed the others face, moving their head to inspect them closely. “Definitely familiar.”

“ Hm? White Society? ”

Carolus pondered on it. He wondered what it could be; Charlotte said they were the founder of it earlier, but what was it? A society, yes, but of what? For what?

“ Might I ask what you do in the White Society? ”

Carolus thought of it as intriguing, maybe he’s join it, it sounded quite quirky with a name like White Society.

“ Curious , aren't you? " Charlotte giggled and stared at the almost shy-mannered boy in from of them. Almost perfect for a target of discrimination and bullying itself  " Look at this flyer. " They shoved it to the glasses-clad boy, with a slight brute force. It'll be fun to actually play around with a new toy, a new character that's not even significant to the storyline they have; but it'll suffice their fading sanity and absolute boredom.

Also Me: *has 10+ replies to write*

“Ah…  Another Charlotte Wiltshire?  That’s interesting.”

Once again, Vincent was pleasantly surprised by how similar he was to Charles.  His world also contained multiple versions of his self-insert character!  The Quiet God idly wondered how much each Charlotte varied in personality from the next.  In his world, due to how expansive it became from all of the conflicts and plots he speckled across the lands, Vincent(s) and Charlotte(s) were all completely different from one another.  How curious it would be to identify if it was the same for Charles’s world as well.

“No, you most likely don’t know who I am at all.  My name is Vincent.”

Ah,Vincent. That name rang a bell to their mind. It’s that person that Charles seems to value so much back in their prime days of life. Someone that makes their father ╴ at least, forget about their problems. But it’s rather surprising to see the real individual in the house. Wandering around the grotesque world of  stories with the perfect protagonist.

(`･ω･´) : What does your muse completely gush over?

＿|￣|○ : What situation would your muse give up in?

(｀-´)> : Who does your muse honor the most?

(´；ω；`): What brings your muse into a state of

depression?

ヽ(´ー｀)ﾉ : What calms your muse down?

ヽ(`Д´)ﾉ : What irritates your muse the most?

(＃ﾟДﾟ) : What does your muse do if they're angry?

（ ´Д｀） : Is your muse loud in bed?

（　ﾟДﾟ） : What does your muse do when surprised?

┐('～`；)┌ : When your muse can't answer something, what

do they do?

（´∀｀） : What could your muse care less about?

（　´_ゝ`） : Who or what is your muse most indifferent

about?

Σ(゜д゜;) : Is your muse easily scared?

( ﾟヮﾟ) : When is your muse happiest?

キタ━━━(゜∀゜)━━━!!!!! : What does your muse do when

very excited?

⊂二二二（　＾ω＾）二⊃ : Does your muse like to cuddle?

(　´Д｀)ﾉ(´･ω･`)　ﾅﾃﾞﾅﾃﾞ: Does your muse pat others on the

head? If not, do they get pat on their head?

(((( ；ﾟДﾟ))): What is your muse terrified of?

Σ(ﾟДﾟ): What would your muse be most shocked to obtain?

( ﾟдﾟ): What amazes your muse?

(´ー`)y-~~ : Does your muse do any drugs? Smoke?

（ ^_^）o自自o（^_^ ） : How often does your muse drink?

ヽ(´ー`)人(´∇｀)人(`Д´)ノ: How friendly is your muse around new people?

('A`) : What does your muse do when they're alone?

（´-`）.｡oO( ... ) : What does your muse think about a lot?

(ﾟДﾟ;≡;ﾟДﾟ): Is your muse impatient?

( ´д)ﾋｿ(´Д｀)ﾋｿ(Д｀ ): Does your muse enjoy gossiping?

（･∀･)つ⑩ : Does your muse enjoy saving or spending money? Or are they indifferent?

(ﾟдﾟ): When your muse didn't expect something, what do they do?

(ﾟ⊿ﾟ) : Is your muse in denial a lot?

（・∀・） : Does your muse like to tease people?

（・Ａ・） : What does your muse consider to be bad?

(ﾟ∀ﾟ) : If your muse was a drug, what kind would they be?

（ つ Д ｀） : When your muse is sad, what do they do?

♪┏(・o･)┛♪ : Can your muse dance well?

d(*⌒▽⌒*)b : What makes your muse the happiest they could ever be?

(╬ ಠ益ಠ): What infuriates your muse to the point they may kill whatever it is?

(≧ロ≦): Is your muse a screamer in bed?

(ΘεΘ;): How much of a tsundere is your muse?

（‐＾▽＾‐）: What does your muse's laugh sound like?

┌(；`～,)┐ : What discombobulates your muse?

ε=ε=ε=┌(;*´Д`)ﾉ : How does your muse run?

ヽ(´▽`)/ : What does your muse look like when happy?

“ Interesting I guess. “ He was in the white society room, since someone recommended him to come here. It was rather strange seeing everyone was completely white here, and no one seemed to mind he was here for some reason. The real reason being they were too afraid to do anything. For a good reason too, he resembled the star of the whole event it seemed. Whatever the case the event had ended and everyone started filing out of the room. Riot on the other hand stood a moment longer to gaze at the familiar being. “ Better head out.” Little did he know that he had broken white society law simply by entering. He wasn’t pure white after all. Besides the star of the event could easily make out pitch black between snow white.

“ Welcome, welcome ! Today╴viewers, we have a special guest! “  Charlotte gave out a smile to the camera, before glancing at the tall boy that seems to look like they’re confused with their life. Great job on being on the blacklist, NPC ! You’re the star of this show today, an entertainment for death! A liquid for the thirst of the spectators to quench their own lust of being powerful; An insatiable feeling that they greedily accept into their own system. Now, where was they? Ah! The votes, the vote calling ! “ Come on ! Come on now, Vote on his ‘fate’ !╴Will it be dressing up or creating a puppet? Go on! I know you want to vote ╴” ull of bloodshed and had to clean the room to stay white. Being tainted with the doubted ‘unpure’ ones are surely icky; yet a job needed to be done for the sake of their own protection and ensure that no one would want to target them.

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“ …Oh! I see, I see. Nice to meet you too, Charlotte! ” The handshake was rough, but Carolus let go and looked at the other with a smile. Though, with introductions out of the way, silence fell and Carolus felt quite awkward with nothing on the mind to converse about. Normally he has much to talk about, but the impression that Charlotte was giving was something like he was too pathetic to converse with, a feeling he’s known too well. Thus, he realized something quite important in the silence.

“ Oh, but, if you’re Charlotte, did I end up in your House? Is this your House? ”

Carolus frantically bowed apologetically.

“ Aaah..! Sorry for intruding, I had no idea where the door took me, I thought it was another room in The House… ”

If anything, it’s probably a pocket in space-time to accomodate anomalies. Who knows? God does. God always knows.

Q84 gave out a giggle and waved their hand dismissively, certainly it was fun to meet a Charlotte that seems to be panic at everything they notice or when they have a thought crisis about the world. “ Rest a bit, will you? Nothing would try to eat you here. “ Except for me, of course. But, in all honesty. The thought of him getting to this place must have a loophole in his story must be so deep that he got here. 

The white haired boy laughed a bit, quite sheepishly.

“ Was that wrong? ”

Carolus moved back, blinking and adjusting the glasses on his face. His face scrunched up a bit, slight disappointment plastered over it.

His current interest in stories of the supernatural made him this way, but even so, Carolus smiled at the other and held out a hand to them.

“ Anyways, my name’s Carolus! What’s yours? I don’t recognize you, but you seem pretty familiar! ”

Merely grinning at the boy, he is very interesting in Q84′s perspective. Glasses, bandages and that typical atmosphere of a bullied kid. Gently reminding them again of ‘what will happened’ if they didn’t followed their own response to the story of the damned system; they hate it so much, but it was a reminder that they were a created expression of thoughts and loneliness. They couldn’t complain about that anyway. 

f. scott fitzgerald: mahogany wood, crisp winter skies with cold bright stars, the solitude of an early autumn morning wrapped in fog, empty bottles on stacks and stacks of books haphazardly placed in a messy room, pale bruised arms reaching out into the darkness,cigarette smoke just barely hiding the scent of alcohol, a wall of books all poetry and old and weathered, a bad thunderstorm occurring at the end of a beautiful day, the way tragedy strikes in your heart but ends up stopping your breathing for a moment, your favorite sweater, parties spilling into four a.m. with the stars above spinning and dancing, the contrast of blood against snow, a purple split lip oozing blood, black eyes fading to blue to pale skin, the butterflies of falling in love for the first time, the statues falling apart over time in cemeteries, the romanticization of self-destruction

franz kafka: the weight of dread that sits heavily in your stomach when thinking about the future, decrepit houses cloaked in mystery from children telling stories of people who died there, the way not even light can escape a black hole, the rich smell of old books,delicate veins in the wrist, ghosts filling lungs, shattered bones, raindrops on the tongue, rusting metal, nostalgia that aches, the way hope feels like a plastic bag over your head

h.p. lovecraft: the anxiety felt when staring into an unknown cave, pouring rain and mud, a child’s fear of the dark, thinking so many questions about your existence as you stare at the vast expanse of never ending ocean, the silence of three a.m., danse macabre by camille saint-saens playing on a record in an empty house, the possibility of aliens and the weird feeling it gives you that you can’t explain, unexplainable phenomena, strange lights in the sky in the dead of night, ouija boards and urban legends

jack kerouac: the brisk pine air of being on a mountain, travels without a destination, those nights where you’re missing three hours of memory, screaming to a lifeless desert about how you’re so alive, coffee shops late at night, car rides at night spent speeding and laughing in the dark,naps spent in the sun, novels highlighted and underlined with notes and epiphanies in the margins, the way uncertainty sits on the shoulders, ignoring flaws and loving life, wind through hair, depression as fog in the brain, impossible ideals, a quiet sunrise, walks alone, when you think about trying to discover all the secrets to the universe,dazzling people,open lands stretching out into infinity, falling in love with being alive

edgar allan poe: the ocean’s horizon inseparable from fog, hollow bones, a preserved heart held in hands,twinkling stars above an old graveyard, the way everything turns to dust, silent black birds with eyes full of wisdom, self-inflicted flames, perfection depicted as a rotting corpse,death as bricks in the heart, lips barely brushing against each other, glassy glazed eyes, biting into a lemon, heart-shaped bruises, rotting flowers on a grave, dried blood and spilled liquor, the hush of dusk when it begins raining, the intimacy of a secret