Inner Islands label mastermind Sean Conrad has released several terrific collections of ambient goodness under the Channelers moniker. Lyke Rayne, his newest project, is very different. Don't worry, it's still terrific. The Time Wil Sort Ye Out sees Conrad (who plays almost every instrument here) venturing boldly into psych-pop territory, crafting gem-like songs that jangle, shimmer and shine. Bolstered by lush, late 60s-Beach-Boys-style vocal harmonies, it's an album that has elements of day-glo AM radio from back in the day, but also an eeriness that floats nicely over the top, mixed in with some surprisingly amped-up moments from the rhythm section. It's often supremely dreamy, but the dream takes us into some darker, more mysterious corners of the mind.
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.
β Live Streamingβ Interactive Chatβ Private Showsβ HD Qualityβ Free Actions
Free to watch β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
You are awakening to who you really are in many senses all at once, as you awaken to the truth that you are an aspect of Source.
Of course, you then begin to recognize that Source is all-that-is. Therefore, it stands to reason that you are everything.
You cannot really define yourself as just one type of starseed or one type of being.
You are everything all at once, just as everyone else is.
What that means is you then get to decide who you want to be.
You donβt have to only be defined by limiting characteristics, or traits, or aspects.
You could say, βI am a man,β and you could also say, βI am a husband, a father, a lawyer, a brother, a son, an uncle, and a nephew.β
There are many aspects of what it means to be a male human being.
You can define yourselves by limiting terms and definitions, but certainly, at some point, you must realize that it doesnβt serve you to do so.
You also get to choose which aspect of who you are you emphasize in any given moment.
You get to choose from all-that-is what you decide to be within all-that-is. And then you get to decide whether you like it or not.
You could decide to try on many different hats, in terms of a career, and jump around from profession to profession, and thatβs okay.
You will have experiences and learn things by doing all of the different jobs you will do.
You can be a jack-of-all-trades and a master of none if thatβs what you choose to do, and be, and experience.
What we want you to know is that any limitations you place on yourselves are self-imposed, but you are meant to go through your lives deciding what it is you like doing and being, and choosing to do and be those things more often.
You are not just a victim of your genetics, and your upbringing, and your societal norms. You can choose to break free from all of that.
You are not meant to live out a blueprint that you donβt enjoy living out. You have freedom.
You get to explore what you want to explore and do it how you want to do it, and you get to decide in each and every moment, and none of your decisions have to be binding for a certain amount of time.
Exercise those freedoms. Be who you want to be. Do what you want to do. Feel what you want to feel, and explore what you want to explore. Your definitions can be quite limiting, and your awakening can be quite liberating, if you allow it to be, and if you allow yourselves to make choices that are based on your feelings, your inclinations, your desires of the moment.
Throw out any and all ideas of who you are supposed to be and what you are supposed to do so that you can tune in more to the infinite possibilities that are truly available to you and everyone else, and give everyone else the same freedom to make choices for themselves.
Do your best not to pigeonhole anyone else and tell them what they have to be because of their age, or ethnicity, or gender, or any other limiting characteristic of a person.
Remembering who you really are is the most important aspect of your life, because it is you going home to who you really are as a Source Energy Being, and thatβs what we are all doing, no matter what we think we are doing in these experiences that we are having. Allow yourself to roam around and be free and to explore all aspects of life so that you can make more informed choices about who you want to be from moment to moment, and you will live a life of joy, freedom, creativity, love, peace, and abundance.
We are The Creators. We are 12th-dimensional collective of nonphysical beings and we love you very much.β
I actually love that color weaves are a thing and wish it was even more detailed thing. Like yes I get that blue is water weaves, red is fire, blah blah blah. But like an unique color for a specific character for general weaves???? Yes please
Happy Pride! To celebrate we are going to discuss the magical and fabulous life of James Randi. One of the greatest magicians of the twentieth century, and a skeptical investigator without equal. From precocious beginnings in Canada, to the television screen, he battled misinformation and scammer "hoo-ha peddlers". And along the way he will test the boundaries of what it takes to bring honesty to a world of lies. Β So grab a few spoons, some strong rope, and your skepticals. Things are about to becomeΒ AMAZING!Β
As always, please come join the episode discussion on the Least Haunted Discord!
Enjoy the images and videos below!
James Randi (born Randall James Hamilton Zwinge; August 7, 1928) Seen here at age 26 breaking Houdini's record on time spent in a submerged coffin.
Performing as The Amazing Randi, he specialized in escapism, that is, he would escape from things.
Uri Geller, (born 20 December 1946) an Israeli "Psychic" and master of "psychokinesis" who claimed he could bend and break metal with his mind. His preferred medium was spoons. He fooled researchers at Stanford University with his tricks, namely the bending of spoons, and gained minor celebrity.
The Tonight Show starring Johnny Carson was one of the most important shows in American pop culture for decades. In 1972, Carson arranged to have Uri Geller on as a guest. Unbeknownst to Geller, was that Carson was good friends with James Randi, and called him up for advice before the show...
Using tips the James Randi gave, Johnny was able to prevent Uri Geller from displaying any form of psychic powers. This would lead to a lifelong nemesis battle between Geller and Randi.
For his next trick, Randi teamed up with two young and very talented men who were very skilled self taught spoon benders and magicians. This was Project Alpha, where Randi would place his two ringers in the center of a 4 year experiment into Psychical Phenomena at the McDonnell Laboratory for Psychical Research (Mac Lab).
For nearly four years, with his secret coaching, the duo of Steve Shaw, and Mike Edwards, fooled scientists in a laboratory type setting. This was easy to achieve, as Randi had tried to warn the Mac Lab in advance and gave them a list of 11 things that could be done to prevent magicians from falsifying psychic powers. None of which were vigorously implemented by the lab. The whole ruse was revealed in a televised press conference. Project Alpha led to much criticism of Randi and his methods, with debate of how ethical the ruse was. Randi maintained that the deception was for the greater good, and justifiable.
Cody even learned spoon bending!
Peter Popoff, a televangelist and faith healer was James Randi's next target.
With the help of Steve Shaw (from Project Alpha) and a retired cop, Randi was able to figure out that Popoff was using an ear piece and radio to receive information about people in the audience that they themselves had provided in prayer cards.
As part of the scam, Popoff encouraged people to throw away life saving medications and instead give him money to be cured. After Randi exposed Popoff (with help from Johnny Carson again), Popoff briefly went bankrupt. But he would claw his way back to the top and continue to scam millions of dollars for decades through infomercials where he sold "Miracle Spring Water" from Chernobyl.
Using Peter Popoff's radio trick, Randi fed lines and information to "Carlos" The hoax was created with the help of 60 Minutes Australia, and Randi and Alvarez went to Australia on a media tour with Carlos before revealing the whole scam on Australian TV.
The two stayed together until Randi's death at age 92 in 2020.
James Radni was an original founding member of CSI, The Committee for Skeptical Inquiry.
As well as a founder of CSI's affiliated magazine, Skeptical Inquirer.
He also founded The James Randi Educational Foundation, which promotes skeptical inquiry, scientific literacy, and science education. The JREF also famously offered the "James Randi $1million Prize" to anyone who could prove psychic abilities in a laboratory environment and to terms agreed upon by both parties. The Prize was never won, and the challenge was eventually retired with the prize money being donated to various charities and organizations.
@imjunebitch eddie is a fat fucking liar sheβs very pretty
Luci belongs to the person tagged above, she posts a super cool series she writes called Channelers that iβm begging my 2 followers to read cuz itβs peak
had to draw Luci so hereβs a sketch lol, i went based off the descriptions in the chapters :3
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.
β Live Streamingβ Interactive Chatβ Private Showsβ HD Qualityβ Free Actions
Free to watch β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
"In the summer of 2023 I played a couple of shows for the first time after a long while of not playing out. To prepare for those I developed a new set for dulcimer and EWI (electronic wind instrument) that was strictly improvised. I didnβt want to be beholden to anything pre-composed, because in the past when Iβve done that the pieces I have at my disposal sometimes donβt gel with the mood of the space Iβm playing, and Iβm at a total loss because thatβs all I have to work with. So, I decided improv was the way. And thankfully the second of those shows, the one at The Crown in Oakland, CA, was recorded. Selections from that set are featured throughout this album (What Need Not Be Kept, Stone Watching Shadow, and Think It's Gonna Rain). I was feeling pretty heavy at the time, as supreme court decisions had been rolling out in the weeks prior and led to further reflection on the decisions from the year before and the state of the system in general. I was really just stewing in it. I think thereβs a weightiness that permeates the tracks recorded at The Crown. The others are perhaps lighter. They were recorded at home, layering a few one-take performances while sitting next to my pup Raindrop. Hopefully that makes for a nice balance and some emotional range.
This is the second Channelers album (after 2017βs Faces OfΒ Love) to be comprised solely of improvised work and the first to contain recordings made in front of an audience. This is perhaps the only Channelers release that is reflective of what my contemporaneous live sets are like, so it holds a unique position there. Iβm not sure how much longer Iβll be doing sets like this, so I think itβs a good snapshot of this time." -Sean
VERY LATE I apologize, buuuut new Channelers chapter! read all of channelers at @channelers-series if you want! or catch up if needed! hopefully the next chapter won't take as damn long! I have no excuse except burnout and giving myself too many projects :p
cw: references to abuse, homophobic violence/language, lesbian yearning squared, nihilist god, dumbass teenagers, really bad art, a very old meme, non-communicative lesbians, profound loneliness, florida, and colm. fuck colm.
"-and you learned in high school that prayer helped a tiny bit. But no, you're right, we need to go back a tiny bit don't we. Okay, we can, we can do that. Because it's important to understand that the visions never did go away. Not visions, even, because they had real, lasting effects. And so you prayed to God because you thought you were supposed to. And that did help. Less attacks, anyway. Panic attacks, psychotic episodes, you didn't know.
You would draw these complex designs on paper, anything you found, on your skin if you had a marker. And that fucking helped a little didn't it? And the kids said you were weird and quiet and didn't you hear about what happened to Johnny, Lisa. Right well, see that kid over there, yes, the one doodling, well, that's his cousin. Crazy fucker. Worships the devil maybe. Anyway, Johnny disappeared after he went out alone in the woods a couple years back with his cousin.... Sounds fucking suspect, don't it. And that was a couple years ago but βββββ was never the same. Fucking spooky ain't it.
And that was part of why you left the Greek Orthodox school for middle school.
Middle school was rough but it always fucking is. And people liked to pick on you and hurt you but mostly you found a crack to hide in but you still never slept because every dark space had it in it, and your brain gave it the face of a goat but it had no face, you knew that, and that was so, so scary. So you started praying. You didn't believe in God, of course, but sometimes it genuinely is easier to do something than nothing, isn't it. Anything at all. Because. You knew you weren't alone, and you wanted to feel not alone in a good way too.
At this point you thought evil was demonic in nature. You stupid bitch. You fucking dumbass. So you got really really into Christianity. Again, dumbass.
You didn't know that God didn't give a fuck about mankind. That you're a fucking repository for what He wants. That your species is a tool. God needs you, not the other way around. Pray away, He isn't listening!
But I did need you, βββββ. No. Fucking listen. Okay? You're the goddamn exception! You are important! Stop fucking looking at βββββ's body!
Hey, eyes up, now. It'll be okay. I know you don't remember any of this, there's a reason for that, I'll get to it, don't worry! You're not going to bring βββββ back by staring at her like that, so pay attention.
People still didn't like you very much in high school, but being the crazy fundie was better than being the 'school shooter waiting to happen,' in any case. Your parents were just glad you were involving yourself in something. If you'd become a fascist they'd have said thank God she's into politics now, and not spending her life doing nothing. And there was a little community in being the crazy fundie too. Some chap named Thomas found your faith admirable, and some popular girl started actually talking to you and being nice to you. And you humans have some strange thing in your society....Well, look. You wanted to shtup her, alright? It wasn't a secret to anyone but you. She knew, for sure. And her animal brain thought it was hilarious to string the shaky, sweaty, nervous little girl along. Oh, but you thought you were just so excited to convert her!
Well she invited you over to her house, you know the drill, you started talking about how much you.... Ah, God loved her, and how you were excited to be her sister in Christ, and how deep your Christian love for her was... Dumb. Ass.
She caught on pretty quickly, and you were shocked and overjoyed when she grabbed your shoulder, but the joy left when she hit you. And then she hit you again. And again. And again and again and again. Because for some reason some of you animals are concerned with what category of your kind others wish to shtup. She had seen a love in your eyes, and she cared enough that she would have beaten you to death.
You were crying, she was yelling, she was calling you names that you had never even heard and then it was like you were an insect being pulled apart. And you reached your hand out and grabbed her face and, in your terror, you commanded her head to explode.
And, βββββ, in that moment, as you stood there shaking, and crying, and dripping with her blood, wishing you were dead instead of her, I was standing in a hospital sixteen years prior, holding a baby, viewing it's future, and deciding that you were the one. Ahriman was dead, and so it had to be y-"
~~
Yig loved Sunny the wrong way, and she even knew it in her heart, but not enough to really do anything about it.
An Elder God was supposed to love their priest, of course, and protect them, and cherish them. But they weren't supposed to serve them, not overtly anyway. It was meant to be the other way around. But Yig fucking loved her priestess and would do anything to serve and help her. Shit, more than anything it was liberating to worship someone. Yig wasn't supposed to do that to anyone, ever, but she had her fucking faith and she had decided that if Sunny could follow the personal religion of Indulging A Hungry Snake God, she could follow her own religion of Making Sure Her Friend Was Safe.
God, self reflective was not a thing she was. At least not well. Yig finished the crayon she was eating and stood up.
Piloting Sunny's body was the closest she got to physical contact with her now, but that was okay, obviously, because it meant that Sunny had someone looking out for her at night, while that Hot Fucking Bodyguard covered the day. So Yig hugged herself a lot and pretended it was Sunny hugging her. She was in the library right now, which was big and dusty and frankly not a lot of use to her because it was full of books, and Yig had no interest in reading. She'd read a little more earlier, when she and Sunny had just worked out the body thing, to be able to write letters better, but writing pissed her off. She knew she wasn't a good writer. She preferred drawing, not that she was any good at that either.
Yig thought about what she could do tonight. She thought about going on a run maybe, that sounded nice. But first, Sunny had written her a letter the day before, and she had been saving reading it for a couple hours.
She sped out into the Hallway, hoping to avoid Colm, and towards Sunny's room. It took a while to get there, big fucking house, but in time she was sitting on Sunny's bed, holding a letter in her hands written in neat, small handwriting, and smiling like a dork.
Dear Beloved Goddess (wow that makes me sound like a simp, haha):
Thank you for writing! I love reading your letters so much! You've gotten really good at spelling, and although you're not exactly even trying to punctuate, that's okay, haha. It's clear enough what you mean.
I hope you got my prayers! (that is a joke, I know you did :D) I am not certain as to whether I am "fumbling" Imani ( that is the name of my bodyguard she is not just a piece of meat you weirdo >:0) but regardless, I think that is the best thing I can do. It would be wrong to enter a relationship with someone who is my subordinate! That would be a manipulation of power. She is dependent on me! Not cool.
Anyway. I got a hunter construct sent after me, and Kai and Luci did as well. I think it's possible that someone is trying to kill us, but I don't know who! Just be on the lookout while you're puppeting my body! ( I know you already are, with Colm and Dad. And thanks for that always, for protecting me. I love you.) Just be careful, we're not sure what the hell is going on but I want you to be safe!
Give yourself a hug, it's from me! And kiss your ring finger, that's from me too! I love you, my divine serpent lord :P
-Your Most Favorite Cultist <3
Yig could feel herself smiling, and she followed the instructions, hugging herself, kissing her ring finger, and feeling pretty silly. She was an Elder God! Come morning, Sunny would enter her own body again, and Yig would be a giant fucking serpent in the dreamlands, a God in a God's flesh. It was something about wearing a person's body, repeatedly, every night, for so long... It made her think like one sometimes.
"There are worse things to be..." she muttered to herself out loud, and then she giggled, because there was scarcely anything more human than talking to yourself. Humans were cute. In general. Colm and Sunny's dad certainly weren't, but her, and her friends, made humanity seem pretty cool to Yig. There had been others, of course, in the past, but it was best not to think of people from before. Or you ended up mourning generations of friends and lovers, unknown by anyone alive. Yig didn't think about that though.
Instead, she tried to get changed with her eyes closed. Sunny always reprimanded her for not showering in her body, but the truth was that Yig was vaguely uncomfortable with the idea. She didn't want to feel like she was over Sunny in any way, and she wasn't very comfortable with seeing her body. It felt weird. Yig dressed how she liked, sleeveless shirt and baggy shorts, sunglasses, yes, at night, like the song... She found herself humming the fucking song, it was stuck in her head now. Awesome.
Yig realized, a bit late, that the letter she had just read implied that someone was out to kill her Sunny. This filled her with fury, and she was a little abashed at having not realized it prior, when she had explicitly stated it. She decided to keep that firmly in mind and collect as much information as possible for a future letter. She checked a clock.
Christ in heaven, it was only 9:35. Sunny had gone to bed early, leaving Yig with an abundance of fucking time to wander mindlessly around the property, alone, save for Fucking Colm. Out there somewhere, probably, because he always fucking was. And now she wouldn't even have an excuse for not showering, beyond the actual one.
She got up and walked towards the door, and saw another note taped to it.
Enjoy your run <3
She smiled, and shook her head bashfully. She liked Sunny a lot.
~~
Yig stretched, because she was supposed to do that, to keep her body and flesh operating correctly. She wasn't very good at it. The yard was huge, a sprawling field she could run down with her eyes closed for a few minutes without having to worry about running into anything. Which she really loved doing! It was her favorite.
She kept stretching, and realized that doing this wasn't very helpful. It just kinda made her sore. And Sunny as a result. Which made her feel bad. The yard was expensive, with tall grass. Bordered by thick forest, and swamplands that became mosquito breeding grounds in the spring and summer. Florida was perhaps not the most beautiful place Yig had ever been in, but it was far from the most humid, or the most filled with insects. And at least it cooled down at night here, by God. Keeping things like that in mind was what kept Yig happy and content.
Yig shut her eyes, or rather Sunny's eyes, and began to run.
There was something so damned contemplative about that, running with one's eyes closed. It was like high-risk meditation. Moving like a machine, without knowing or caring where you were going, wind swirling around you, existing as a being of pure motion, pure kinetic energy.
These were the reasons that Yig ran with her eyes closed at least a couple times a week. This time, it was good, and wonderful, and nice, for about a minute, and then she sort of slammed headfirst into what she thought was a brick wall, before she opened her eyes. And it was Colm. So yes. Practically a brick wall.
Yig snarled in rage, clambering to her feet as the human shaped tendon stared at her blanky.
"You bumbling fucknugget," Yig muttered. The man just stared blankly.
"Let it be known," she continued "That I dislike you a good deal. I think you suck balls. You friggin lick testicles. I dislike you, you fuck. You bully Sunny for your dumbass brother, and you stare at me like a creep, and stalk me. How can you be so massive and so quiet? Are you fucking batsman or whatever the hell they call him? Fuck you, fuck batsman. Why the fuck do you listen to your brother anyway?? Elder Gods eat their siblings as larvae."
Colm somehow made a lack of movement an action. He was pointedly still.
"Okay," Yig conceded. "So that was a lie. Elder Gods aren't really born... Any siblings we have are strictly metaphorical. So yes, I lied, I'm a little liar girl. I'm a lying snake. You make a decent point."
Colm, who had made no point, at least no intelligible one, just stared at her.
"Regardless, the point does stand. Letting your bro boss you around is pussy shit. Also, messing with Sunny is friggin barbaric. She's the sweetest girl ever, y'all should be ashamed of yourselves."
Yig squinted at Colm. He didn't look very ashamed. He didn't seem to have blinked either more moved much at all.
"I mean, dammit dude. What the hell are you even doing out here?"
Colm did respond to this. His lips parted slightly, and he quietly and affably said, in his unusually smooth voice, "My duty, Yig."
He turned and began walking back to the house. "No other answers, you fucking asshole?" Yig hurled in his direction, stand frozen with her fists tightly clenched. "Bastard! Still no real reason for why you fuck with Sunny? Get the fuck back here!"
If he heard her, he showed no sign of it. Yig huffed aloud, spinning on her heel, and walking back towards the house.
As she walked, she looked out at the street, and saw a hunched figure watching. She squinted at it, but it turned heel and fled.
~~
The next clock Yig read said that it was only 10:09. Yig was unreasonably angry at this point. She thought about maybe drawing Sunny a picture. She knew she was an awful drawer, but Sunny always seemed to appreciate her efforts. Who could forget such masterpieces as
this is what I feel a sense of without you (Yig, 20ββ, green crayon on construction paper)
or
were best fucking friends btw (Yig, 20ββ, green crayon on the back of a tax form)
Seminal works of her time. She was considering getting some paper and drawing when she heard quiet crying coming from Imani's room, just as she passed the door.
She leaned down and pressed Sunny's ear against the wooden door. It was definitely either sobbing, or high, panicked breathing coming from the other side. Yig briefly considered her options. Going in there would be weird, but leaving her there, crying... She would feel like a monster. And she wasn't stopping, or anything like that. Yig knocked on the door quietly. No response.
"Shitting shit," she muttered to herself, and she opened the door.
Imani was curled up on her bed, eyes squeezed shut, face wet, sobbing in her sleep. A nightmare, or something. It happened. Living like most Channelers did was incredibly stressful, trauma kinda came with the territory.
Yig sat on her bed, crouching over her body, and she tapped her on the shoulder. "Yo," she whispered. "Beefcake. It's alright, you're having a nightmare." Imani's eyes snapped open, and she stared at Yig for a long while, thinking she was Sunny, and then remembering that she wasn't. Yig could tell by the way that she looked at her with first a strange sense of duty in her eyes, and then a sudden coldness following her realization. Yig might have been upset, but it meant that Imani clearly had some sense of affection towards Sunny, so she couldn't be too mad. She got it.
"Thank you for waking me up," Imani said curtly. "I apologize for disturbing you." Yig smiled. "No problem, dude. Bad memories, huh?"
Imani seemed to weigh the benefits of honesty and deflection for a moment. She appeared to choose honesty. "Yes," she admitted. "I've seen a lot of shit, you know. And... I did fail a charge. Once. Significantly." She looked at Yig, and must have misinterpreted the curiosity on her face for apprehension, because she hurriedly added "Once. It won't happen again. It certainly won't happen in service of your priestess. I'm... Fonder of her than most of my charges."
Yig grinned at her. "Just goes to show that you have good judgement, beefcake! She's pretty fond of you too."
Imani frowned. "I'm... well aware. I assure you that I don't intend to abuse my position. Our relationship will remain... Well, no, I think I've already overstepped professional. So, friendly then." Yig shrugged. "She just likes having people who care about her," she said, not entirely dishonestly.
Imani nodded. "Okay. I can do that," she said, in a tone of honest candor. "I'm probably not going to fall asleep," she added. "It's only, what, 10:30? I imagine you don't get out of the house much, Miss Yig. Would you like to paint the town red?"
~~
As it turned out, Imani's brand of painting the town red was coffee at the Denny's a little ways into town. That was alright by Yig, she hadn't been sure what to expect anyway. Imani was a real gentleman, drove her there, made small talk, immediately clarified that she would pay for her... Which was good, because Yig didn't really have money, or any way to get money...
Coffee kind of sucked. But it was an experience, and Yig was fine of experiences. It tasted bad. And it felt bad. But she drank of it deeply.
Imani was watching with a detached, amused expression. "You can wait for it to cool down," she said quietly. Yig nodded. "Ah. That makes sense." She drank again, not thinking, and then hissed in rage.
There was a waitress in the Denny's. Yig thought she was pretty. Her flesh was old and rotting a little. She smoked. She had some underlying health concerns, and she was only fifty, but she was incredibly sweet and Yig liked her.
There were also a pair of teenagers a few booths away. One was much louder than the other. He had long brown hair, pimples, and he was wearing a dirty sleeveless white shirt. His eyes seemed to be perpetually half-lidded. He had a little stubble. He twitched and moved angrily. The other was a little more androgynous. Maybe a guy, maybe a girl, maybe neither, maybe both. They had longish, slightly greasy hair, and olive skin. They looked paranoid. Deep eyebags, wide eyes.
"...i saw the fuckin' devil man, fuckin' telling you, can't fuckin' go home, man," the quieter teen said, in a hushed rasp. Their voice seemed to be intentionally lowered and gruff. The louder teenager scoffed. "You didn't see the devil. You're a stupid loser asshole." The quieter teen shook their head. "fuckin' saw it, you asshole. fuckin'. horns. in the dark. fuckin' body's spreading like a rash in the forest." The louder teen laughed. "Yeah. Satan's coming to pull you to hell. Cause you're a faggot."
The quieter teen frowned heavily. The louder teen cocked his head and grinned. "I mean, you're cool though," he said, a little awkwardly. "I like you. I'll fight the devil. Faggotry nonwithstanding." The younger teen frowned, and muttered something petulant like "your faggotry is nonwithstanding."
The louder teen laughed again. "Shit. Wanna go to the bowling alley? Ray can get us some shit... Glue or paint thinner or some fucking shit." The quieter teen nodded. "okay. fuck. i just wanna be fuckin'. around people."
They looked to the side, eyes wide and paranoid, and they made direct eye contact with Yig smiled, and they blushed slightly, and hurried out behind their friend.
Imani looked at Yig, tilting her head. "The kids aren't alright, are they." Yig smiled. "I dunno. I think that one'll be alright. Maybe not though." Imani shook her head. "I don't think they will."
Yig drank her coffee and winced in pain again. Imani smiled slightly. "You don't like coffee, do you?" Yig weakly responded with "Thank you for buying it for me-" and Imani giggled, which was kind of cute. "Give me your coffee too," she said, shaking her head. "I'll get you something you like."
"Soda."
Imani shrugged. "Deal. Weird as hell talking to an actual god like this. Buying a god soda." Yig outstretched a hand and spread their fingers apart, crossing in the air. "Thank you, my servant," she said teasingly. Imani glanced at her shyly, and she smiled back at her.
"Thank you for taking me out, also, beefcake. I don't really get out of the house very often. And I don't see many people. I like seeing you." Imani smiled shyly again. "Thanks. I'll probably usually be asleep. I don't get nightmares often. It's just... A few years ago I did something I'm not proud of."
Yig waited expectantly for elaboration, and Imani seemed to consider elaborating, but all she eventually said was "I let someone down." And then she shrugged, putting her mug down and starting on Yig's coffee.
"Trust me," Yig said, "I get it. I've let a bunch of people down. I mean I've lived a long-ass time. I've betrayed, lied, killed... and I'll still be around, remembering everyone that I ever let down, by the time the Qlippoth consumes earth."
Imani stared at Yig with a completely blank expression. Yig chuckled quietly. "You have no idea what the Qlippoth is, do you!" Imani shook her head sheepishly.
"You must not talk much to many sorcerers! Shit, get Kai to explain it to you sometime, all i really know is it's a REALLY BIG Old One that's spreading inwards to devour everything. You'll probably be dead by the time it gets here though!"
Imani shrugged. "Everything I learn about the universe scares me more."
~~
Yig got her soda, thank god. The two sat together and drank in an oddly comfortable, familiar-feeling silence. Yig admired Imani's strong arms, and the loose dress she had hastily put on before leaving. Sunny better bag this chick, genuinely. The waitress busied herself quietly, and Yig decided that, having tasted both, she preferred root beer to human blood, as far as tributes went.
After a while, Imani paid, and the waitress called Yig "sweetie." Which she liked. Yig called the waitress "hot stuff" in response, which the waitress seemed to dislike, but Imani found funny. Then Imani led Yig out of the Denny's, staying very close to her, moving like a bodyguard instinctually. Looking in every direction. It was sweet how protective she was.
Imani drove the ruined car home. On the way, Yig thought she saw a figure out of the window, following alongside the car at high speed, from a distance, but as they drove through the woods it disappeared entirely from sight, and she decided it might be unrelated.
By the time the two of them were back in the house, it was two in the morning. The two walked into the hallway where their rooms were. Imani turned stiffly towards Yig and said "Thank you. For keeping me company on a rough night." Yig smiled and said "Thank you, for letting me go out of the house for a bit."
Imani nodded. "My pleasure. I think I'll try to get some shut eye." Yig sighed. "Alright. I'll be Sunny in a bit. So... Bye for now!"
Imani smiled. "Bye for now," she repeated.
The next five hours were profoundly lonely. But Yig reminded herself that it was worth it.
