Much less time for dreams
Yet when my mind slips to sleep
I keep imagining you
Choking me
Then Shaping your phrases
So we land on the same wavelength
You’re always so calm
I want to see you catastrophic
Much less time for dreams
Yet when my mind slips to sleep
I keep imagining you
Choking me
Then Shaping your phrases
So we land on the same wavelength
You’re always so calm
I want to see you catastrophic
Editors’ Note: Due to extenuating circumstances, we could not acquire records of the Chief Advisor’s interrogation with Captain Lukin other than the report of his body language throughout the process. Tokavskan legal interviews such as this one commonly have scribes whose only job is to record someone’s mannerisms, which are later reviewed alongside the recorded responses to determine character and dishonesty.
The King’s chief advisor, Lord Eskyil, appears perturbed as Lukin speaks to him. He tugs at the golden band round his wrist denoting him as Chief Advisor, and his eyes, unusually dark for a Tokavskan, dart back and forth. He jumps when Lukin asks him of his whereabouts at the time of the murder, and his words come out rushed and oddly pitched. He answers the question without any other hesitation. His distress continues for the next few questions, but to a lesser degree. He wrings his hands when explaining his nighttime routine. Upon being prompted to describe how he found out about the murder, his voice becomes tight and he holds perfectly still. He speaks in tentative sentences with no more pausing than expected. Lord Eskyil is more skittish after he has explained his initial reaction. He lets out a deep breath upon finishing his remark.
When asked if he has seen any suspicious activity, he replies that he has not in the same tentative voice. His posture, facial expression, and tone remain the same for the following questions. His eyes dart once or twice, but other than that there is no notable shift in his body language.
I was born deep in the valley
To a mother who loved mountains
And a father who longed for the coasts
I loved to venture out when I was young
And be with people in the sunlight
But my smile is always a bit too short
My eyes always a bit out of position
My reactions always a bit off cue
My phrases always looped like a record
My frame always stretched and looming
My walk always pointed and crooked
My name always unconnected to anything
My presence always a bit unexpected
I laugh at static to laugh at something
I live for stages to feel at home
I watch the world spin and want to spin with it
Maybe you see past the mask I craft
I certainly do, but I’m still not sure
What exactly is supposed to be underneath
I spent so long studying what might be there
But all I know I have is skin
Fitted forever over an unknown
But whatever might be there
I hope it’s something nice
Something that makes people happy
Something that’s close enough to human
That would be nice
Please be patient with me
I’m learning how to be a person
Hello. Sorry that I’ve been silent lately, but being an eldritch being from the great beyond university student does take its toll. I’m going to continue the story I began last year using the same format. This isn’t a style of writing I’m used to, and it’s interesting to go out of my comfort zone. Season 2 will unfortunately be the final season, as I shall assume my true form graduate in May.
I started this series with the intention of making it a worldbuilding project, but because I am primarily a storyteller, a narrative gradually evolved (to find out what it is, read season 1!). I don’t have a concrete plan because the workings of my brain are mysterious even to me, but I will (hopefully) finish the story this spring. I tend to plan things on a week-by-week basis.
What to Expect from Season 2:
I look forward to seeing what this season brings. Stay safe out there, especially during spooky season. Always remember that the shadow behind you may not be your own.
I have a headache
I treat it with two ibuprofen pills
And drink them down with bean broth from the garden back home
Mixed with tattered bits of veggie bacon
That I took back here in a Tupperware container
The ones with light blue lids that pop when you press them on
Never thought that would remind me of home
But still makes me smile
And all my thinking of silver hands and standing stones
And jumping with banshees to avoid the last stair of the fire exit
That only goes down and not up for some reason
Lets me get out of that feeling of my face being wrong
The hair glued to the scalp
And the air feeling too still
And I don’t mind the mosquitoes
Putting a bump on each of my right fingers
Because I get to wander and look at mushrooms and cobwebs
And send pictures and recorded rivers to Mom and Dad
Smiling at the texts they send back
Because I like to share the earth in photos
And at night, when I don’t need to write about headstones
(One of the few times staying up ‘til 1 AM feels good)
I’ll spend them watching Bella Lugosi and listening to jellyfish lofi
But this time, I don’t laugh alone
Words flowing between like a two-stream-at-least river
And that will always be enough
Editors’ Note: This entry was written by the same servant of Tomon who wrote the to-do list. The handwriting is sprawling and very distinctive, and we find it hard to believe it could be replicated.
Tomon’s meetings were canceled today, and now I don’t know what to do with myself. Tomon doesn’t, either. I’m writing this while he isn’t looking, but even if he does see me I don’t think he’ll do anything. He’s relaxing in his chambers and not doing much at all, going through papers, I think. Anyway, he has expressed interest in taking a walk around the grounds. I hope we can go this afternoon because my legs are shaking so badly from nervous energy. I’ve heard rumors that something happened, that somebody was killed. Some high-up of the king here. We are forbidden from discussing it while working, which makes me feel even worse because I feel I have to talk about it or something in me will burst. So I’m writing it here. I heard this morning that somebody was murdered on the grounds, and now everybody is wondering who did it. I think it was somebody who was an opponent of the guy or a person who wanted his job. Maybe a hire since people that high don’t always do those types of things themselves. Not that the upper classes are weak, of course. Just that they can pay someone else to do those kinds of things for them, I would pay someone to carry out a murder if I had someone to murder and the money to pay. I would never commit murder, but if for some reason I felt the need, I’d probably do it myself.
My favorite theory is that an opponent did it because I think that sounds the most interesting. Maybe he disagreed with a guy on something, so that guy decided he needed to go. Of course I can only imagine what that kind of disagreement would be. I don’t really know much about how kings work, so it could be anything, really. Maybe somebody wants a coup. But if they wanted to take over, wouldn’t they have gone for the king first? Unless it was a practice kill, which doesn’t make sense if you think about it. That just makes you more likely to get caught.