Lore junky, retail worker, prior depressionist, and tree-climber. Dating a wonderful human. They/Them/Mrz.

I have litteral stacks of paper under my bed. Refrence material, aborted stories, old journals and notebooks.

I hate posting incomplete, unpolished fics, but I need to get my butt in gear and sometimes posting a teaser sets me up with enough responsibility to get over myself and actually write the dang things.

or else crushes me under the all consuming weight of self imposed deadlines. who knows?

Currently Writing:

Who Shall Fill a Coward's Grave after several false starts I finally know what I'm doing with this mess. While everyone else is hyping themselves up over Fortuna, I'm gonna be over here writing, planning and researching this monster of a character study. I'm so excited!

Lol. Who's ready for Scarlet Spear?! (for real tho, sacrifice has helped So Much on which direction I want this to go. Our timeline is just a lot longer than I expected now)

Things I have mentioned writing:

An Undertale-Prototype xover. It's been a lot of fun, but it's evolved into a tangled knot of several different plot lines, which I may be able to tie into a single repeating time-stream, maybe. On hold until that gets sorted.

An actual write-up of Prototype if Blacklight didn't wake up to a copy'n'paste Alex Mercer. Like really, you've consumed a number of scientists, soldiers and citizens of various skills and occupations, and you walk around like a car-tossing super-virus when you could just LEAVE NYC and indulge curiosity? Build shit from your artist's wet dream of a hyper-adaptive sculpey viral mass? Go gene collecting? Invent virus-propelled space flight? Raise a Chocobo farm? Scare the piss out of campers? Become Bigfoot? Philosophize? Have an identity crisis? For gods sake, you're a amnesiac hell-virus, what are you waiting for? I want a Blacklight that takes off in its confusion, gets the hell out of dodge and expands upon what it could be. And then finds out about NYC. AND IF I CANT FIND A REINDEER I'LL MAKE ONE INSTEAD. Will possibly be a series of ficlets and omakes under one roof. Or a long-ass story. If I ever get off my under-confident butt and write it.

Fun fact, I'm very much not a morning person, but avoid foul moods by getting up even earlier and avoiding people for several hours. Often in a sleep-induced haze. It works, sort-of.

Personal stuff aside,

Google translate is rather bad at translating Latin. William Whitaker's Words is much better. please don't break me out of your storytelling with poor translations.