earth stains

There is a certain point of time in the day where the inky dark of the night leaves nothing left for the eyes to see, save for whatever stars are left. In a few places, though, you could find places where even the earth itself was stained with stars of its own. The best place to find them were near airports, factories, or lonely roads: where there were just numerous enough to see, but didn’t crowd each other out like they did in the cities. Glittering red ones, white ones, sickly greens and yellows, too, all scattered across the earth. Little flashes winking in and out of sight if you watched carefully, and with enough patience. Sometimes, even, these lights would fly: they’d join each other in patterns, some loose and faint, and others following each other as thought they were part of some great synchronized dance, like a team of swimmers weaving across the dark. Others arranged themselves in rows along the ground, like bright sentinels, to guide the others across and away from the earth. I liked thinking of them as though they were stars trying to get back into the sky. Like they had fallen down to the ground, and were trying desperately to rejoin their friends that looked down on them from above. Maybe they felt out of place, being so few and so far between, when their friends were so bright and crowded together in the night sky. Maybe they knew that being on the ground wasn’t a good way to live. Earthbound, grounded, and unable to reach a place where they felt like they wouldn’t feel so trapped. And every day the lights in the sky faded out of sight, and the lights on the ground would lose their luster, dejected; only to regain their shine as soon as night fell, and twilight renewed their hopes with glittering determination. The lights would reappear, rebuilding their fragile efforts, redoubling their faith that eventually things would become better, and that things would not stay the same. Even today my own hopes stay with these lights, which made every effort, every day, as though none of their work went in vain. I miss them.

 It’s always such a bummer when you wake up after an adventure where you found a ton of awesome skulls and bones only to realize it was a dream.

Last night I dreamed I’d hired some folks to help me clean out and do some work to my barn for some reason. Started digging out around the back of it and there were huge piles of bones down in the mud and muck and old horse manure! Enormous, beautifully earth-stained vertebrae and all manner of skulls. I was carrying crates and sackfuls of them back up to the house.

I remember one really cool goat skull in particular had two horns but they were fused at the base where they erupted from the skull and then split apart into two after curving back five or six inches. I was really looking forward to getting that one cleaned up!

Guess that might sound like a nightmare to most but I know you Vultures understand. <3


The tree stands solitary
Undisturbed by the violent wind
Buds emerge at long last
The eternal winter has ceased

The tree stands solitary
Young leaves blow in a summer breeze
The sun breathes life and warms the earth
The youth of summer is at hand

The tree stands solitary
Leaves change colors with age
The wind blows until all have touched earth
Dead leaves stain the ground in fall

The tree stands solitary
Naked as the snow violently falls
Burying the dead leaves underneath
So is life

The tree stands solitary

Offerings for the Dead

Cry, love.

Cry, as all is not well.

Sob, and offer your tears to the dead.

Scream, and shake, and wail!

For somewhere tonight,

Thantos kisses another soul in greeting,

And the Keres drag another away.

So cry.

Let salten tears stain the earth,

And offer them your sorrow.

Beat against the ground,

And pray they hear you.

Give them coins and honey and milk,

But most of all,

Give them your grief,

And let yourself cry.

( VOCALOID starter sentences )

lyrics taken from various songs

  • “The important things are the ones you can’t see or touch .”
  • “I want to be with you.”
  • “Find a reason to sing.“
  • “Please, go ahead, don’t give me time to breathe.“
  • “Money is the best lawyer in hell.“
  • “I just want to break out and run until tomorrow in one fell swoop.”
  • “I will always protect you, so you just be yourself and smile.”
  • “Don’t forget my voice.“
  • “Devour everything in this world!”
  • “Please try and seek out the real me.”
  • “Now, kneel down!”
  • “I want to sleep in the earth stained bright red.”
  • “Repent for your wrongdoings now!“
  • “The atmosphere is terrible when you’re nearby.”
  • “Will you kindly laugh at me once more?”
  • “Where is the reason for the pain I can’t get rid of?”
  • “Well, before you release me from your knife… those lips, let’s shut them with mine.”
  • “Shoot! I feel like having something sweet!“
  • “Crying…? no, I’m not…”
  • “Well, that won’t hurt you - will it?“
  • “Can we stand to remain like this?”
  • “I’ll wrap up your broken heart.”
  • “I can’t grasp you at all!”
  • “Right now, I’m falling in love with you.”
  • “Hey, I said whatever happens is fine.”
  • “You couldn’t look me eye-to-eye…”
  • “I had a dream where everyone was disappearing.” 
  • “Yes, by every means possible, we go for the victory.”
  • “I want to convey my feelings to you.”
  • “Hmm, okay! If it’s come to that, you’re the hero!“
  • “Please make me believe that this is not a sin.“
  • “I’m seriously jealous if you can get excited at a time like this…” 

I don’t dislike Western CRPGs in principle; I’m just well and truly sick of the visual aesthetic where all the characters look like animated Warhammer figurines. Give me big-eyed anime critters any day - at least I don’t have to look at yet another iteration of Manlyhands McShoulderpad and his wardrobe of tastefully blood-stained earth tones.

fashioned from blood and sweat
and the dying world;
who saw the sky fall that day
and knew it was the dawn of an era.

the hundred:
children forged from the stuff of constellations
with ferrous liquid in their veins;
who were chosen to die,
and fought to survive.

mount weather:
constructed from dust and death
and a lost empire;
who glimpsed the stars erupting
and took it as salvation.

the ark:
fortified by the darkness of space;
who landed here
and they, born amongst stars,
tried to rule the wild that was earth.

—  these are them, they who fight for dominion over earth; who stain the soil with blood and wage war on the planet they call home.

She’s planting lightbulbs in the garden.
It’s that time of year again
when she watches for ships on the skyline
miles from the drained blue sea
and the angels she finds encrypted
lie there fluttering
in the paper wings
of her ash-littered mind.

Give her the benefit of hardening,
of caleidoscope eyes trained
on distance, on the rigging of tenterhooks.
No relief in the way roots flee
even kept under earth-stained rags
and tilted coffee cups
the heartland still
her lucid in memoriam.

This is the part where you tell me it’s not too late and I can lay down arms, abandon my mission.

The words echo through Dean’s mind. Beat like tattered wings against his skull.

“Nonononono! Don’t,” the kid pleads. “Don’t.”

I’ll spare us the formalities. You’re past talking down. Cain, you’re fully mental.

“Why not?” Dean asks. “You’re one of them.”

Oh, I prefer to think I’ve finally gotten clear.

“No. No, I’m not, okay? I hate my family!” He pulls his shirt up, and his chest is bare. “See, look! No stitches! I’m not like them, I promise.”

When I made my bargain with Lucifer, killed Abel, I released a stain upon the earth, a stain deeper and far more lasting than mere precedence.

“Oh, you are like them,” Dean says, taking a step closer. He can smell the fear, taste the tang of blood in the back of his throat. The mark pulses on his gun arm. His trigger finger aches to depress.

Your bloodline’s tainted, so you say.

So I know.

“There’s bad in you. It’s in your blood.”

The kid shakes his head, whimpering, and Dean stalks forward still.

Not all killers are my descendants, and not all my descendants are killers, but enough are, enough for me to know that extinguishing them is the least I owe this world.

“Now, you can deny it, you can run from it all you want, but that bad will always win.”

Can you honestly tell me that humanity’s not better off with fewer Tommy’s and fewer Leons… fewer yous?

He’s just a few steps away now. The kid pleads.

“I’ll do anything you want, okay? Please.”

And what about the kid?

“You don’t need to do this,” the kid says. “Please.”

He could go either way. I prefer to be thorough.

“Yeah,” Dean says.

“I do.”