#basklin

Dude, I'm fucking IN LOVE with the art and characters of Dolmistaska.

It's about a city-sized mall that grows like a festering wound. The inhabitance lives in abandoned stores while the protag, an illiterate anthropomorphic sand cat named PM manages to fumble their way into being a part of a revolution.

prompt list

Those that survive. 

That resonated deeply with Jacket, but unfortunately in a pretty unpleasant way. It was a harsh reminder of that which he’d been trying to wipe from his memory for months now. 

“Did any of them actually survive, though?” He asked with a soft, humorless laugh. 

“Ah, it was a poor choice of words, I admit it.” Beard sighed heavily on the other line. 

Jacket closed his eyes and shook his head. He knew what Beard had meant, and yet he’d let his thoughts slip through his lips. This is why he was better off not talking! Now the mood of the conversation had been spoiled. 

“But hey, you got me and I got you, right?”  

Leave it to Beard to lift everyone’s spirits. He’d done it consistently throughout the war, and the skill hadn’t been lost in day to day conversation. If he could prevent sadness, he would. 

That’s what Jacket loved most about him. He felt bad for relying on Beard to provide, but it’s not like he was trying to be sad on purpose- he just couldn’t help it. He’d always been sad, for as long as he could remember. 

“Yeah, but...”

Maybe that lingering sadness and Beard’s ability to quell it were what kept him from shutting up.

“I don’t wanna just be your friend. S... So...” 

“Oh!”

Jacket inhaled sharply and threw the phone on the ground. What the fuck was wrong with him? How had he been able to say that so calmly!? How had he been able to say it at all!? His face was red with shame and his hands were trembling violently, like he’d just been humiliated in front of an entire classroom.