#anti-chronicles

I was tagged by @noblebs to find wrong, easy, twitch and vicious! We stayed with Vítor Cadogan for all of these, in the Green Blood wip!

wrong

Vítor wonders if Pulp is getting the name of the ship wrong on purpose, or if they don’t know how to read.

easy

No lights glow from this city, no easy sign of life found in its silhouette.

twitch (I actually couldn't find one in this wip so have a jerk instead)

His body jerks like a broken toy, then goes still.

Shockingly I couldn't find vicious anywhere, and none of the synonyms I found felt synonym-y enough. Oh well, I'll try to make a point to include it for next time :00

Thank you to @noblebs for tagging me! Sorry it's been a moment, I'm only just catching up on what I've missed!

“Thank you, Pulp,” Vítor tries to sound kind, but he can’t quite keep the befuddlement out of his voice. He has to think for a moment, then adds, “My name is Vítor. My… companion’s name is Saccade.” He can feel her eyes on him, can imagine her eyebrow raised in curiosity or perhaps judgement over his momentary pause under the thick plastic-metal gas mask. Friend sounded a little too personal and chummy, but maybe that’s what they were. She certainly gave him no hints. “Vítor and Saccade. Veee-torrr and Sahhhh-kahd. Vitor. Saccade,” Pulp plays with the words in their mouth, dragging them out and then spitting them out quick like they’re trying to discern the flavour of their names. Yet again, he finds himself glancing uncertainly at Saccade, whose mask is as impassive and unrevealing as ever.

Many thanks to @noblebs for tagging me! The rules of this game is post 7 lines and tag 7 people. Here is a little descriptive work in Bronze Eden from the perspective of Imperator V.

The interior appears well-kept and organised. Harlequin-tiled floors are clean, and freshly swept. The walls are painted a dark olive green, that in the poor light appear almost black. A gas light mimicking the shape of a small chandelier hangs from the ceiling, but its amber light is dull, pulling everything into a subtunical yellow. A golden umbrella stand sits in the corner, next to a full shoe rack, which is below coat hangers heaving underneath the weight of heavy coats that from style alone belong to owners far out of town. Hung intermittently on the dark walls are a number of paintings, with simple wooden frames spray painted golden to give the illusion of more wealth and class than there actually is. Most depict quaint sea scenes, boats resting languidly in an overflowing dock, foamy waves crashing against a cliffedge, a large ship with proud masts riding the hills and tides of an angry sea, but others are less nautical, more familiar.

Tagging @albatris, @moonandris, @chauceryfairytales, @leahnardo-da-veggie, @xenascribbles, @charitet and @bebewrites! And of course, anyone else who is so inclined!

Taglist under the cut.

Many thanks for the tag @ashfordlabs! I was tagged some time ago but I'm only just getting to it. Here is a paragraph from a Diomede chapter.

Dawn is beginning to creep, but the gentle grey-blue that turns lilac as the sun begins it’s lonely ascent into the sky offers no sanctuary, nor safety. He can hear them, a mournful wail splitting intermittently through the silence of the breaking dawn. Do they mourn their dead, or do they mourn their empty stomachs?

I'm tagging @thrakaboom, @ladvofthelake, @theophagian, @noblebs and @themboty, and of course anyone else who wishes to participate!

Taglist under the cut.

I was also tagged in this by @noblebs, thank you so much for the tag! My words were cover, face, build, and least.

Cover was in a number of different places so I just went with the first one I saw! Saccade is unimpressed by the seafront.

“They said we’d know it when we saw it, but I got no idea how we’re meant to make heads or tails of this place,” Saccade grunts next to him, her voice loud to compensate for the muffling of the heavy grey gas mask that covers her entire head. “I mean, how are we meant to tell one ship from the rest? I can barely fuckin’ tell the fishing boats from the battleships, they all look like shite.”

Here's a passage with two different faces, with Vítor!

His mask chafes around the sides of his face. It’s a standard gas mask: grey, plastic and metal, one of the ones they had hanging next to the bright purple sign that announced where Neo-Babylon and her irradiated land began. He’d done everything he could to scrub it while he travelled down the land but it still smelled musty, heavy with sweat of a thousand faces who’d worn it prior. There was a nicer one at his office, a stern thing of well-treated leather and gold, but Vítor Cadogan, fresh out of Golden Glimpse wasn’t looking to get robbed in this city-slum.

I actually couldn't find any just for build on its own, but I had a lot of descriptions of buildings, so here is one of them. It is a Saccade piece, but she isn't in it very much here.

Shell-like buildings of concrete and metal stretch above, half-crumbled. Entire floors have collapsed in on themselves, making these stone goliaths look lopsided and asymmetrical, like crumpled paper cutouts. Some seem to have been gouged, entire holes ripped out leaving metal rods exposed and twisted. Above this cemetery of steel and rock lays a thick layer of bile-coloured smog, swallowing the tops of broken architecture with its sickly yellowish glow.

Here is least! It's a Vítor snippet, but he isn't there so it doesn't count that much.

His left side is recognisable at least, but his other side, his right, is covered in a nauseating array of clumps, diseased tumours. His right arm seems to have swollen up like it had been injected with a hundred different steroids, but they’d only stayed in the one arm.

Hello! I was tagged by @ink-flavored, thank you so much! Last time, we interviewed Saccade, so now it's time to go across the border and interview the Potentate Louis!

Are you named after anyone?

"Yes. There were two Louis' of the Potentate dynasty before me; one had married in to the Potentate Ludovica some eons ago, and despite the 10 children the couple sired during their marriage only two made it to adulthood. The other was a military man, Seraph of the Empyrean's Army only for a week before his horse went wild and dove down the side of a cliff. Neither are... particularly proud namesakes, but I am grateful to be given a chance to carve a greater legacy for future generations."

When was the last time you cried?

"What a ridiculous question. Do you mistake me for a hysterical woman, or an overemotional, nostalgic fool like Salvatore? I have not cried since I was a small child."

Do you have kids?

"Another ridiculous question. I am not married, so how would I have children? I am not a degenerate, unlike some of my cousins. Moreover, palace this may be, there are quite enough people in it as is. I do not seek to add to the tally of Potentate heads within these walls. And furthermore–I have no desire for children. I have quite enough brothers and sisters, cousins plenty to ensure the family blood does not dry. No, Empyrean willing, I shall never marry either".

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

"No; I will not undermine my words and authority by using them for irony, humour or mockery. It is unbecoming of a Potentate."

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

"Masks, of course. What they wear upon their faces. The weapons of Nod have placed Eden into a permanent masquerade, and some are taking advantage of that. I see people with masks of owls, of wolves, of ravens and lions and bears. They wish to show what they feel represents their personhood, their status. For example, my father, the Potentate Felipe, has taken to wearing one of a ram, with great curved horns. In truth, I think they are slightly too heavy for his head to comfortably wear–but you understand why a Seraph of the Empyrean's Army would want a thing symbolising protection, like the ram. Now that we must have our faces covered always in case of a gas attack, it is necessary to still have ways to communicate our personhood and societal status."

What’s your eye color?

"Blue. Like my father, like the God-King himself, Magnus. I am proud to say I have my grandfather's eyes. Naturally I... never met him, but the shade is similar in the many portraits of the Potentate Boris. I would have liked to have met my uncle."

Scary movies or happy endings?

"Fiction is for children, and for fools unable to face their own reality, too cowardly to grasp and change it. Neither."

Any special talents?

"I... am adept with the sword and I have a natural inclination to the sciences. If my aunt, Clymene, was not so close in age to me, I would naturally be considered to inherit the science sector when she passed. As it is, it is unlikely to happen."

Where were you born?

"Do you seek to waste my time with unnecessary questions? The Palace of Eden, as every one of the Potentate dynasty was born ever since the Prophet lifted it from the ground. Only the Potentate Zephyr was born outside of these walls, when Gloriana, pregnant with her son, attempted her coup and ran away from these holy walls."

Do you have any pets?

"Not specifically. There are... hounds kept for hunting and guarding, but none are mine, and I find the novelty of such beasts wears quickly. A cat would suit my temperament much better, but there is little to do for a small animal in this palace."

What sort of sports do you play?

"I fence regularly, to keep my physique in check, and I often play chess with my cousins. Oh, I raced against my siblings often on horseback when we were children, but I suppose that doesn't count as a sport. I also played cricket as a youth, but Orsete is a terrible cheat, so I never pursued it."

How tall are you?

"I stand at 182cm. Not as tall as my younger brother, Azelio, who stands at a quite ridiculous 194cm, but I am taller than my father, and that is all one can ask for, no?"

What was your favorite subject in school?

"I have appreciation for most academics, but if forced to choose... physics, I am endlessly fascinated by."

What is your dream job?

"What trivial, provincial things jobs are. I have no need for them. The only duty I have, the one I dream about, is that to my family, to do the great Potentate name proud, and to join my ancestors in the Empyre when my time comes."

Thank you again! I'm tagging @chauceryfairytales , @bebewrites, @ashfordlabs, @borisyvain, @megarywrites, @mjjune, @albatris, @scholarlycoffee and as always, anyone else who wants to be involved! The questions are under the cut, as before.

Thank you @chauceryfairytales! This is more like a last paragraph, and really I was just touching it up from my writing session Monday (didn't get much done, I'm afraid), but here we are!

He turns back to look at what lays behind. He can still see the car, flaming beyond. He has walked a few hundred meters, but it certainly is comfortably reachable. He could go back. But should he? Extend the time it would take to try and find civilisation, to find a safe place to find food, someone to tend to the stranger’s injuries. It would be risky, and for what? The case of a rich man, from far out of town who’d almost killed both himself and V in his recklessness? “I must…” the man mumbles, but he does not manage any other words before his grasp on consciousness slips and his head flops back against his arm. V thinks in solitude, then turns back the way they'd came, towards the heap of warped, mishappen metal that burns so hot it glows a pulsating orange, like the sunrise he’d witnessed only hours ago.

transcript in alt text

Was rotating this moment in my head so wanted to share! I've been enjoying making Hendrix feel more nonhuman / otherworldly in these moments, and it's also fun to write from Diomede's perspective, who is convinced he is the most Normal Man Alive.