god_of_minecraft>You online?

Caliban87>What's it look like

god_of_minecraft has sent file: pic.png

Caliban87>The fuck did you get this

god_of_minecraft>I saw it again

Caliban87>Why the fuck do you have this picture

god_of_minecraft>It was in the park
Hello?

Caliban87>What were you doing in the park?

god_of_minecraft>Jogging.

Caliban87>Did you stay on the path?

god_of_minecraft>What?
I don't know. I guess?

Caliban87>Don't go jogging there anymore.

god_of_minecraft>WHAT THE FUCK IS IT
WHY WON'T YOU TELL ME

Caliban87>Think hard. When you took that first picture, were you trespassing?

god_of_minecraft>I was at the bus station

Caliban87>Where in the bus station? Were you in any place marked Employees Only or something?

god_of_minecraft>I dunno

Caliban87>Were you parked in a handicapped spot

god_of_minecraft>No, what the fuck do you think I am?

Caliban87>K fine
Just be careful, don't leave the path, don't go places you shouldn't

god_of_minecraft>Or what?

Caliban87>He can't get you

god_of_minecraft>Real descriptive

Caliban87>Can't afford any more. Sorry.

god_of_minecraft>Fuck you

Caliban87>You too, buddy.

god_of_minecraft>How do you know all this?

You have logged off.

god_of_minecraft>Finally back online I see.

Caliban87>Been busy. What do you want

god_of_minecraft>I did what you said and it's still there.

Caliban87>I know.

god_of_minecraft>You said it would go away

Caliban87>No I said it wouldn't get you.

god_of_minecraft>What am I, 12?

Caliban87>Fuck you
This is going to be the shit you're in for the rest of your fucking life do you understand
You got its attention
And now it'll hide in the corners of your vision for the rest of you fucking life waiting for you to cross the line
Waiting for you to go too far
Because once you do it has you
And if you're very very lucky He'll get bored and go away
But if you aren't He'll never ever leave you because He knows that all it takes is ONE screw up and you're His forever and ever and ever
Do you get that? If you stray from the path, ever, ever, EVER, you are gone, and nobody will know

god_of_minecraft>What the fuck is this thing

Caliban87>No

god_of_minecraft>Why are you calling it He?
Hello?

Caliban87>It's male

god_of_minecraft>Why did you capitalize it
Like you're talking about God

You have logged off

god_of_minecraft>I need answers

Caliban87>You've asked too much

god_of_minecraft>I tracked down your IP address
86.xxx.xx.xxx
Right

Caliban87>How did you get that

god_of_minecraft>I'm clever
I commend you for hiding it so well though

Caliban87>DO YOU WORK FOR HIM

god_of_minecraft>No.

Caliban87>I don't believe you.
Swear it.

god_of_minecraft>I'm sorry?

Caliban87>Type this: "I swear upon my name that I am not working for or collaborating with the entity who shall not be named, who is described in previous conversations with, and whose image in included in the photographs sent to, the person with the username Caliban87 and whose IP address is 86.xxx.xx.xxx; and should I lie, let nothing of the sort ever come from my keyboard again"
If you don't say that word for word I will log off and throw this computer in the fucking garbage and move halfway across the country
And you will never know who he is

god_of_minecraft>Fuck you.
I swear upon my name that I am not working for or collaborating with the entity who shall not be named, who is described in previous conversations with, and whose image in included in the photographs sent to, the person with the username Caliban87 and whose IP address is 86.xxx.xx.xxx; and should I lie, let nothing of the sort ever come from my keyboard again

Caliban87>Good.
I won't tell you His name, or His Title, because go fuck yourself I will not bring that bullshit on me anymore.
But I will tell you this: I strayed from the path once.
I was just a boy at the time. I was at a national park with my parents. And Mom and Dad had gone off to take pictures of the mountains, and said I could play, but I couldn't go off the path because if I did, I would fall off the mountain. and I saw between some rocks a yellow flower, glistening in the sunlight like a piece of gold.
So I went over and picked it up, and it was beautiful in my hands.

Caliban87>And I looked beyond, and there was another, glimmering like gold. So I picked it, too, and it was just as beautiful as the last.
And I went to the next, and the next, and six flowers I pulled, each lovely as fine jewelry.
And then, after the sixth, there was one just off the path, as lovely as a jewel.
And I know mommy said I couldn't go off the path but it was just one more flower and it was just a little bit beyond and my favorite number was 7
So I went to get it, and as I bent to pick it up I realized it was a little further than I thought it was; I walked a little more, and bent to pick it up, and it was just a little further than I thought it was; and I did it again and again and after a while I reached down and got it, and when I did, my foot slipped on the rocks and I fell off the mountain.
My mommy and daddy screamed, and so did I, and I dropped all the flowers, but then I felt a hand reach out and grab me, and pull me into the side of the mountain, and as mommy and daddy cried and screamed as they thought I fell and fell and fell, He took me away, far away, deep into the depths of the rock and the stone, and I stayed there, time erasing and vanishing in the dark, in the cold, in the wet.
I don't remember anything else. I just woke up one day, on the top of a mountain in Colorado, dreaming of crawling and squirming, and 7 yellow eyes glaring at me in the dark, and the thorns that tore at my skin as I broke free and climbed out of the door in the side of the mountain.

god_of_minecraft>A door?

Caliban87>A cave. Whatever. Close enough.

god_of_minecraft>Where was the mountain?

Caliban87>Why do you want to know?

god_of_minecraft>Curious.

Caliban87>Fuck you. Why do you want to know?

You have logged out

god_of_minecraft>You think that's enough?

Caliban87>What the fuck is going on
how are you doing this
why can't i move

god_of_minecraft>I've been there once before too, Jack.
And I don't know about you
But I can't wait to go back and see what I find
And you're going to help me, Jack.

Caliban87>How do you know my name

god_of_minecraft>Just hold on. We can talk all about it when I get there

Caliban87>YOU DONT KNOW WHAT YOURE DOING
YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT'S OUT THERE
DON'T DO THIS
DONT DONTDONTDONTPLEASE
Caliban87: Session has timed out.

>>17600957

>>17600957

There are gods.

Everywhere.

Old. Older than you can imagine. Older than Him.

And they are waiting for you to remember them.

No seriously what is this about though?

Otherwise creepypasta belongs on /x/.

>>17601053

Changeling: the Lost.

this is not /x/

>Creepy pasta about a /v/ideogame

Yep, its totally /tg/ material

>>17601072
>creepypasta about a roleplaying game which has never been converted into a videogame at any point

>>17601046
>>17601053
>>17601066
>>17601072
ITT: /tg/ IS DISAPPOINT

>>17601090
I fail to see how this is about Changeling at all. It sounds more like an eldritch god.

>>17601072
get out you idiot it's Changeling.

>>17601137
Eldritch gods don't concern themselves with individuals. They snack on entire races.

Is this worth reading because I'm just looking at this massive wall of text and thinking, "NOPE"

>>17601231
>massive wall of text

There's probably too many big words for you, yeah.

>>17601137

THE TRUE FAE ARE ELDRITCH GODS, AS FAR AS THEIR LOGIC AND THOUGHT-PROCESSES GO.

THEY'RE JUST SMALLER SCALE.

>>17601221
Randolph Carter & the Whateley brothers beg to differ.

>>17601298
Well that's pretty much Lovecraft's weakest major work, so fuck Yog-Sothoth.

>>17601341

How's about Erich Zann? Or the guy who lives in the High House in the Mist?

>>17601341
>>17601395

Or fuck that, how's about Nyarlathotep?

Giving presentations that drive small groups of people insane, chatting to Randolph Carter (I know, I know), hunting down that one guy who looked in the Shining Trapezohedron. He sure don't care about individuals.

>>17601395
>Erich Zann
No direct god involvement, he was simply driven mad by the music he heard at night.

>High House in the Mist
Nodens is an Elder God which is a completely different animal and actually pretty fae like.

CLASSIFIED TOP SECRET: TFV CLEARANCE REQUIRED
READING THE FOLLOWING INFORMATION WITHOUT TFV CLEARANCE IS CONSIDERED AN ACT OF TREASON AGAINST THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

The following are transcripts of recordings recovered from the basement believed to have been used by Kisean Briggs from the dates of August 12th, 2004 to August 25th, 2004.

A [presumably Briggs]: Day 1. I had to call in a few favors, but I found one. Finally. It's been quite a long time coming, too.

[audible moaning in the background]

I have taken many precautions to ensure his restraint. There are multiple wards in place about the observation room, his hands and feet are bound with low-carbon steel, a ring of the same material has been placed on the floor, and a ring of salt has been poured on the floor. The latter will require replacement daily.

His physiology is surprisingly human. I was surprised when I came across him that he did not appear immediately faerie-like. He was clearly eminating some kind of mystical energy which I can only describe as a kind of...odd blend of Fate and Prime, perhaps? There is mana in it, but something else, something...vaguely...I suppose intelligent is one word for it. It's fascinating. I've never known the like before. I'll have to get Amalric to analyze it.

He is slowly regaining his ability to move. I hope he does not prove himself resistant in the future.
In his home were several trinkets, which also appeared to possess this peculiar mystical resonance yet appeared utterly ordinary. I counted several jars of preserved fruit and an ordinary trumpet. I must confess my disappointment. I had come to understand that the glamour of faeries is an overwhelmingly beautiful thing, but these items are just so...banal. And so is he.

Certain stories I have heard indicate that faeries fall to pieces of wood and leaf when killed. Test one:

[clicking, a scream]

Upon removal, subject's pinkie remains intact. It does not resemble inanimate matter.

B: I am human.

A: Will not test to see if killing the subject causes his body to revert to inanimate matter at this time. Subject's paralysis is wearing off. Remarkably resiliant.

B: I am human, just let me go. Please.

A: Subject is not slurring speech.

B: I have a family. Who are you? Why are you doing this?

A: Subject is capable of remembering past events and cogently stating falsehoods. Alternatively, subject is partially delusional. Considering the lore on faeries I would not be surprised of either effect.

B: Just let me go, please...my arms hurt....

A: Subject appears to be affected by the constraints. Test two: the effect of ferrous metals on faerie flesh.

B: Man, what the fuck is your problem? Just let me go!

[shaking and rattling noises]

A: Subject appears to be regaining strength, cogency, and emotion.

B: No, fuck! NO! STOP! I-ugh-uhhhhhhhh...

A: Subject is susceptible to normal opiates. Testing will resume tomorrow.

[sound of footsteps, door opening, closing shut. Tape ends.]

>>17601519
>TFV
>Fate and Prime

Wut?

>>17600946
>>17600957

>logs out
>continues to type
>session times out

lolwut was interesting until that part.

>>17601704
That information is above your clearance level, citizen.

A: Day 6. Subject is conscious.

B: Subject is pissed.

A: Now tell me, Jack. What do you know about Arcadia?

B: Fuck off.

[sound of screaming]

A: Tell me, Jack. What do you know about Arcadia?

B: Fuck. Off.

[sound of screaming]

A: I can keep going.

B: So can I.

[pause]

A: Perhaps I am going about this the wrong way?

B: You bet your ass you are.

A: Alright. That's sure uncomfortable, I'd say. It'd be easier if you cooperated.

B: ...fine.

A: Just like that?

B: No, not just like that, you stupid fucking warlock, six days of your utter bullshit torture. God fucking dammit, you think a guy can just take that?

A: No. No, I don't suppose so.

B: You want to get there. To the Faerie lands. Well, I can't get you there, but I can tell you about the one who can.

A: Oh?

B: My Keeper. The Noble Guard of the Paths and Ways. Creepy motherfucker with the seven eyes.

A: Yes. Him. You know how to find him?

B: First. If I do this, if I tell you how to find Him, you're going to let me go. Immediately. Because if you don't, there's gonna be a lot more coming to you.

A: Yes, yes, fine. Now tell me.

B: You remember that trumpet?

A: Yes.

B: Just blow it.

A: That's all?

B: That's all.

A: I already tried that.

B: Wasn't backed by an oath. It is now. Just blow it, and let me go.

[sound of shuffling, then the sound of a horn blowing]

A: Subject's horn appears to sound like it's made of bone or shell, rather than brass.

B: It's fucking magic, I ain't gotta explain shit. Now let me out.

A: Thank you for your help, Mr. Caliban.

B: Let me go.

A: No, I don't think I will. I've got your superior in power. And if you can't get me to Arcadia, well. I'm sure that he well.

[laughter]

B: Fine, motherfucker. Just do it.

[laughter turns to spitting, wretching, silence.]

A: Test 83: Subject does not turn to inanimate matter upon death.

[sound of horn in the distance.]

That...that wasn't me.

[sound of baying hounds, horse hooves]

What is...

[tape ends]

Now that was some good shit. Is this writefaggotry or White Wolf stuff?

>>17601960

Writefaggotry. My first time posting any of my work on /tg/.

>>17601967
Keep going, Anon, it's excellent so far.

>>17601742
MAGIC.

Guy on the other end is Awakened.

>>17602030

Uhhh...I don't know where to take it. Getting taken by the Wild Hunt is kinda game over.

>>17601967
Better then most official WW shit I've seen. Keep going.

>>17602082

Well, this story has reached it's end...but if y'all like Prometheans I can throw together something about a particularly fun character a friend of mine ran.

>>17602114
As long as it ain't Lace.

>>17602114
sure go right ahead

The irc log had me thinking Slender Man.
The audio diary transcript had me thinking Dresden Files.

...You're making me want to try WoD, OP.

>>17602248

Fucking do it, the games are great.

Writing the first section of the Promethean story, will be up soon.

>>17602272
I dunno, I still think whiny emo or fat goth teens playing Vampire: the Masquerade when I think WoD. Then again, I play D&D and I'm not a fat, antisocial satanist.

>>17602329

Fuck that shit. nWoD is about existential horror, kicking ass and taking names.

Plus, Hunter: the Vigil is fun as shit when you murder the shit out of whiny emo goth vampires. Worried about Satanism? Just play the Inquisition, you'll be good.

>>17600946

Very well written over all.

The only real problem with this one is Caliban87 goes from "fucking fuck you fucker" language style to this attempt at poetic elegance all of the sudden. It doesn't work, at all. Especially when his major treatment of the "seven light" subject has been avoidance and denial. You can't go from that to gushing flowery language all of the sudden.

>>17602360

I was shooting for him getting so caught up in the faerie glamour, it almost took him into a kind of dreamlike state. The fact that it's a bizarre, weird transition was kind of the point. Thanks for the critique though, I see where you're coming from and I appreciate it.

>>17602358
The satanist thing was a jab at that one Chick tract after I realized I was letting the stereotypes of WoD players stop me from trying it out, when I myself am a walking affront to similar stereotypes for D&D players.

Her eyes opened in a pool of pink, and she was accutely aware of how they stung, and when she lifted them out of the rose colored liquid she realized they hurt still, but it was different this time; it wasn't something hurting them but like the things in her head weren't enough, or were too much, and she understood then what eyes were, and what sight was, and that she had no experience of either.

The man sitting up in front of her was achingly beautiful, and his warm smile spread to his waxy, cold eyes, and his cool hand took to her mouth and opened it.

"Breathe," he said, his chest rising and falling, air flowing from his mouth. She gulped at oxygen like a fish, utterly gracelessly, and he laughed. There was a warmth in her cheeks and she turned her face away.

"Who are you?" she said slowly. Her throat croaked with new use; sour fluid spilled from it, which she wiped away with her hand.

"My name is Apollo," he said sofly. "And this, love, is my home. Our home, now."

She looked up and around, taking in the room. It was richly adorned with thick red fabric hanging from the ceiling; their edges were glowing brightly, as if a great light shone from behind them. The walls were a dark wood, rushing up to a cream colored ceiling and meeting it with golden trim, ornately decorated with images of fruits and angels. Her nose was still filled with the sour scent of vinegar, but behind it there was something else, something floral and sweet. The fluid in which she was still immersed was cool to the touch, and tingled slightly; yet queerest of all was the feeling which filled her upon seeing the form of the man before her, Apollo.

"What is home?"

"It is a place where you and I can stay together, love; where we need not fear the wrath of men or beast, and where we can simply revel in all the pleasures of the world without worry or care." With that, he took her hand, and pulled her from the tub filled with vinegar and rose petals.

>>17602418
WoD is great if you can find the right group. I'm in a Vampire: The Requiem game right now with my best bros and there's not an angst to be seen. There's just espionage and asskicking.

That evening, he taught her of many things. Of clothes, and food, and making love, and that her name was to be Calliope. But when she went to the window to see from whence the light came, he let out a great howl, and knocked her away from it.

"Do not look outside!" he warned. "Outside there is no place for our kind."

"What is...outside?" she said. But he silenced her with a kiss, and it was enough for her.

-

She knew little of time in those days, and was so enthralled with simply being and feeling, that she hardly noticed the change in the lights that signalled Apollo's sleepiness. And when he would be tired, she was still awake and eager to learn of new things, but he would command her to sleep, and she would.

Sometimes she would wake up before he did, before the light behind the curtains returned, and the curiosity to peel back the red and look "outside" would be almost overwhelming. It nearly drove her mad, standing there, but each time she would hold back, because she knew it would anger her love, and she hated to see him angry. It broke her heart to see him hurt, and whenever he lost control and hit her for her impertinence, he would fall in to fits of crying and wailing the likes of which she sometimes feared he would never overcome.

Sometimes she would stare into the mirror for hours and run her fingers over the lines in her skin, the raised bumps which marked her symmetry. She asked Apollo about it once. She had not since.

It continued thus for some time, and her pining to experience this "outside" became greater and greater and filled her to bursting. Sometimes she would sit and cry, and Apollo would hold her, and ask her what was wrong, and wasn't she happy, and wasn't he enough; and she lied and told him she was going mad, and that he needn't worry himself with it.

On one such morning she had risen, and was staring out at the curtain when she heard a loud thudding noise coming from the main hallway.

She walked to the door and stared at it. It continued to thud and pound, and tears began to fill her eyes. She had never seen the door do this before, and as Apollo always said, she was not clever, and she became very distressed that she had dome something to break the door.

"Apollo?" came a voice. She blinked twice, staring at the wood. Had it just...spoken?

"No, he's upstairs. Er...this is the door?"

"Fuck," came the voice. "Uh, yeah. This is the door. Can you get Apollo for me, please?"

"Yes, hold on, and I'll..."

"You'll what?" snarled a voice from behind her. Apollo stood, his hair matted and toussled, hastily buttoning a shirt. "Get back into the bedroom, Calliope. I have business to attend to."

"With...the door?" she asked, puzzled.

"No, you idiot. Doors do not talk. Avert your eyes."

She closed her eyelids tightly, and heard a heavy creaking noise. An acrid, bitter smell filled her nostrils; she wretched. There was a loud clomping noise, and another creaking, and a click.

"Hell, Apollo," breathed the door.

"Open your eyes, Calliope."

When she did, she gasped. There, standing before her, was a creature...at once like them, and not like them. Scars crossed his flesh, but he was not like one made to be beautiful, but made to be hideous. His skin was pockmarched, patchy, and checkered; his eyes were mismatched and watery; his back was raised in an assymmetrical lump. Where Apollo was lithe quicksilver, this...thing before her was a lump of coal, of lead.

"You can't even let her see what's out there?"

"No. The outside world is no place for our kind, you know that."

"Apollo is right. He has told me many times."

The creature looked upon her with pity in his eyes, and wrath filled her stomach. How could this wretched abomination have pity for her?

"Calliope. This is Hephaestus. He is an old friend."

The creature bowed awkwardly with its misshappen spine. "How d'you do?"

"Fine. You." It was not a question, and he did not answer. She turned to Apollo. "I will make breakfast. For two. Finish quickly."

The sight of the beast had put her so out of sorts that she could not focus on the breakfast. As she seethed, she could hear them speaking in the far room.

Now, Calliope had spent many months honing the art of controlling her curiosity. It would seem that she could easily resist the urge to listen which so wracked her soul now. But months of resisting at worn her weary, and in her disgust, she made a most fatal mistake.

"This creature is no friend of my love's," she told herself. "No doubt he means to slay him, and take me for himself. I should watch, and ready a knife, so when he chooses to betray my dear Apollo, I will kill him before he strikes." She held the knife tight in her hand and moved to just outside the living room. She could see the light just begin to shine through the thick curtains, illuminating the pacing form of Apollo and the malformed body of Hephaestus, uneasily sitting at their plush couch. They were already deep in conversation when she approached, and didn't notice her appearance.

"You can't stay here. Not with her."

"The hell I can't!" snarled Apollo. "We'll do whatever we damn well please!"

"You mean you'll do whatever you damn well please," grunted the hunchback, pointing at him. "Don't tell me she has a say in anything."

"She doesn't need it. She doesn't want it. She's happy."

"Happy, or ignorant?"

"I don't see why it matters!" he spat.

"How do you expect her to walk the Pilgrimmage if you never leave?"

Her ears twitched, and what felt like a fire in her belly surged.

"Pilgrimmage?" she whispered. The word felt...good. Right. Like it fit, somehow.

"She will never walk it," replied Apollo simply. Hephaestus snarled.

dis writefaggotry. right here. at least im done reading so i can go to sleep.
makes me miss reading.

"That's not your choice!" he bellowed. "Besides, you can't stay! You know what you do to the air, Apollo! The people have noticed their windmills are slowing! You think they won't find you? You think they won't rip you apart? Rip her apart?"

"I came here because there was peace here!"

"You have forgotten that there can be no peace for our kind!"

"I refuse to accept that!"

"Then refuse it! Refuse to belive that the earth is round, or that humans are cruel, or that the sun shines on good and evil alike, fine!" Hephaestus was standing now, and hollering wildly. "But do not deny her the right to learn the truth!"

"She knows the truth! My truth."

"You had her shut her eyes when you let me in, Apollo. Has she ever seen the outdoors? Has she ever seen what you do to the land and the air here?"

"What does it matter? She does not leave! If this is all she knows than that is all she needs to know!"There was a silence. Hephaestus had calmed, and was glaring monstrously at the scrawny, beautiful man beside him.

"Then you are a fool. I see you won't see reason. I'd hoped you would be saved from your folly, but it seems I was mistaken. And worse, you'll kill her to keep your delusion." He pulled a crumpled brown hat from his coat pocket, uncurled it, and placed it on his head as he walked towards the door.

Calliope could not contain her rage for much longer. Her eyes filled with tears as the horrible brute grasped the handle and opened the door a hair.

>>17603110
this is getting a bit exciting

She should have looked away. Everything Apollo had ever told her said that she should look away. But in that moment, her hatred of this Hephaestus was so great that she could not pry her eyes from him, even as he held the door open wide, directly facing east. And as the light spread across her face, and her eyes were filled with the sky, she let out a gasp and forgot everything around her: the horror on Apollo's face, the pain on Hephaestus', the very knife in her hands dropped to the floor as she stood and stared.

And there, in the center of an azure sky, there was a great ball of flame, yellow as gold and brighter than any electric lamp in the house. The tears in her eyes began to flow freely, and her mind was screaming at her to look away, and the unceasing light burned into her retinas but she could not stop staring at the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her entire life.

"Apollo," she muttered after a moment. "Apollo. Why would you keep this from me?"

"Shut the door!" he hissed to Hephaestus. "Shut it!"

"No!" Calliope shouted. Apollo recoiled. "Keep...keep it open."

Hephaestus shrugged and opened it wider. Calliope began to walk towards it.

"Apollo. What is the Pilgrimmage?"

"It is a lie," he hissed. "A great a vicious lie that old fools tell themselves so that they can give meaning to their pointless lives."

"Hephaestus?"

"We are soulless beings," replied the hunchback. "And we walk the Pilgrimmage to become ensouled. To become human."

"Lies! All lies! Humans are cruel and vicious and will give you nothing but misery!"

"Like the outside would give me nothing but misery?" snapped Calliope. Apollo let out a wailing cry and bent down to grasp the knife she had dropped.

"Ah hell," groaned Hephaestus, and he ran into Apollo with his massive bulk. The slender framed man fell under the charge; they collapsed into the couch, which crumpled under their weight.

Apollo groaned as Hephaestus stood, pulling shattered bits of couch off his skin. He walked through the door as Apollo began to let out pitiful sobs.

"No, please, Calliope...I didn't mean...ugh..." He groaned as he tried to pull himself out of the wreckage. "We can be happy with the sun! That is fine? Do you want the sun? We can have it too! It can be ours! Lover, wait...wait..."

"You lied to me," she said coolly, tears running rivulets down her cheeks. "You said there was nothing out there for me."

"No...love, please, I...I only wanted you to be happy!"

She wanted to believe him. She did. She ached to believe him. But there was something...

"Apollo. When Hephaestus said that...that you would kill me to keep your delusion." Her eyes turned to him. "What does that mean? What does kill mean?"

He hissed between his moans, but he did not answer.

"You are a deceitful creature, Apollo. And may I be cursed for loving such a thing still."

"I am not a creature!" wailed Apollo. "I am not a monster! I am not a monster! I am not a monster!"

He kept on chanting this as she left, until it was drowned in gurgling tears.

The sun beat down upon her, and she turned her face into it with a small smile. It was then that she looked around and grimaced.

Though the sun was fair, the land was foul. Grasses which should have been green and bright were a dull brown, and the air was thick with evil-smelling miasma that left an oily sheen on her skin.

"What is this?" she said, rubbing the oily film between her fingers.

"Wasteland. It's why you have to leave," replied Hephaestus, who was trundling towards a beat up looking metal box. He opened a door in the side and gestured her in; she paused, then nodded and entered.

He climbed inside, turned the key, and whacked the plastic and metal by the wheel a few times until the strains of music filled the air.

"Don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart,
I just don't think he'd understand..."

Calliope immediately decided she hated it, but said nothing.

"Where are we going?"

Hephaestus turned the wheel and the great metal box began to crawl down the slope of the hill, away from the great house.

"You know how Apollo never told you what it means to kill?" She nodded. "Well. We're going to teach you what death is."

"And if you tell my heart, my achy breaky heart,
He might blow up and kill this man.
Oooooo..."

You're awesome, OP, thanks for writefagging for us.

>>17603478
Well. Fucking. Done.

good job OP

Well done, OP

>>17603559
>>17603614
>>17603646
>>17603653

Thanks, guys! I really appreciate the support. This is the first time I've ever posted any of my stuff, and I'm both surprised and incredibly pleased it went over as well as it did. I suppose I'll have to come back another time and share more stories, but for now, I've gotta wake up at 6 am to get to work on time.

>>17603718
Christ, dude, you could write this shit for WW. It's good stuff, perfectly encapsulates the setting and the mood of each game.

>>17603646
How the fuck is he smoking that cig, what the fuck?

Why is he burning the filter?

>>17603855
The filter's the best part. That's where they put the heroin.

>>17603969
>Letting captcha eat pics
I seriously hope I don't do this.

>>17601294
They're not smaller, they're not smaller at all.
[spoiler]They're the juvenile forms.[/spoiler]