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fuck it. posting poetry again
text only version below:
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ok quick writing blurb because i needed to get this out. violence spoilers below
how many years? centuries even? stuck in this form... in this cage?
the soul had ceased to entertain such thoughts since their sentencing to this layer of hell. their work on earth spoke for them before any words of protest could have left their mouth.
at this point, they had resigned themselves to the ceaseless wars of violence. nothing changed. it was no better than their years on earth, but this time there was no screen between them and the carnage, no meeting notes to sterilize the violence, no propaganda to lick their emotional wounds.
nothing could have prepared them, then, for the sight they beheld now. they knew little of what had transpired on earth after their death, but somehow, against all they knew of the world... it stood before them again.
its plating remained a vibrant blue. the light they had nicknamed an "eye" gave no signs of recognition. but it was here. the work they had spent decades drafting, sheltered in bunkers, desperate for an advantage against the earthmovers.
they could no longer speak, but the muscles of their face used their remaining energy to smile. their pride. their beast. their sin.
it would set them free.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
whoops! accidentally recontextualized the end of act 2 cutscene as post-nut clarity
i wish we could have done more, somehow. i want to multiply time. i want to be so close to you my atoms never forget the feeling. i would move the earth if i could, reform the mountains and the rivers and the lakes and push us closer together.
stop looking to me expecting to find
the antichrist;
it has always been you
you false prophet
you mad god
one who would strike fear into the heart of a child rather than
exalt him
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.
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i have foregone religion. tower of babel. maybe the holiest thing was us combined. a ship. a rocket. a vinyl floating through nothing and nowhere. let me reach for the Other. i will hold it in my fists until they bleed.
