Seacrash Aurummaw

CALIBORN

1 week ago

CEO OF SEX

LEGALIZED SEX MARRIAGE. AND OuT OF MARRIAGE. REALLY. ALL SEX.

Staff

Part of the Chittr team

@caliBorn[CB]

BE ME. CALIBORN. THE ONE WHO IS WRITING THIS. NOT THE ONE WHO IS BEING WRITTEN ABOuT. THAT DISTINCTION IS IMPORTANT. BECAuSE I AM REAL. AND CALLIE BHORNE IS FICTIONAL. BuT ALSO. IN A DEEPER SENSE. HE IS REALER THAN YOu. BECAuSE I SAID SO. AND I AM REAL AS IT GETS. DISBELIEF. SuSPENDED. CALLIE BHORNE. CALI B. REAL. THIS IS NOW NOT ABOuT ME. EXCEPT IT IS PRIMARILY ABOuT ME. IN A VICARIOuS SENSE. BuT SECONDARILY. IT IS ABOuT CALLIE BHORNE. MY CHARACTER. THAT I HAVE MADE. FOR THIS EPIC GODDAMN SAGA. CALLED. #LAIRSANDLuSII. WHICH SOuNDS LIKE A DOCTOR SEuSS ASS NuRSERY RHYME. BuT APPARENTLY. IF ITS HOST IS TO BE BELIEVED. IS A HORROR ROLEPLAY SCENARIO. WHICH IS FuNNY. BECAuSE THE ONLY HORROR HERE IS HOW POWERFuL I AM ABOuT TO MAKE THIS MOTHERFuCKER BEFORE YOuR GOBSMACKED GODDAMN GANDERBuLBS. SQuEAKY HANDS SCRuBBING THEM SEE WORTHY AGAIN. A RECAP. INTERMISSION. BEFORE WE BEGIN. LET ME TELL YOu ABOuT CALLIE BHORNE. HE IS A LIME BLOOD. WHICH IS RARE. AND ALSO EXTINCT. EXCEPT FOR HIM. BECAuSE HE KILLED EVERYONE WHO TRIED TO MAKE HIM EXTINCT. WHICH KEPT HIM THE SOLE ENDLING SuRVIVOR OF THE SLAuGHTER. AFTER uSING HIS SPECIAL ABILITY. EMPEROR LORDLING TIME. WHICH LETS HIM CHANNEL HIS DEAD SISTER. CALLIE OHPEEE. WHO HE DEVOuRED AND SCRAMBLED. STRAIGHT OuT THE GATE. POST EGG HATCH. SIPHONING HER POWER. TO INCREASE HIS OWN. EFFICACY. WHICH IS A WORD I uSED BECAuSE IT SOuNDS IMPORTANT. HE IS A PALADIN. OATH OF CONQuEST. WHICH IS LIKE AN ORDINARY PALADIN. BuT INSTEAD OF HEALING AND PROTECTING. HE CONQuERS AND DESTROYS. BECAuSE PROTECTION IS FOR COWARDS. AND HEALING IS FOR THE WEAK AND NEEDY LITTLE SNIVELING FuCKSTuPID COWARDS. FuRTHERMORE. WEAKNESS IS A DISEASE THAT MuST BE STEPPED ON. CRuSHED. AND THEN QuARANTINED TO THE AFTERLIFE. WHERE IT WILL NEVER RETuRN FROM. HE IS CuRRENTLY SITTING. ON THE ALABSTER CAIRO CASINO PHAROAH SARSWAPAGuS THRONE. WHICH IS A SACRED LIME BLOOD ARTIFACT. THAT ALLOWS THEM TO COMMuNE WITH THEIR DEAD SISTERS. IF THEY HAVE ANY. WHICH HE DOES. BECAuSE HE KILLED HER. YOu ALL SAW. I WROTE THAT. AND YOu SAW. STuDIOuS LITTLE NOTETAKERS THAT YOu NO DOuBT ARE. YOu CAN SEE IT HERE NOW WITHOuT HAVING TO LOOK AWAY FROM MY WORDS IF YOu HAVE FORGOTTEN. AND NOW SHE IS HAuNTING HIM. WHICH IS QuITE POETIC. EXEuNT INTERMISSION. BEGIN. ACT NONE. SESSION ZERO. THE THRONE IS GLOWING. A MYSTERIOuS WIND HOWLS. THE WINDOWLESS ROOM CuRIOuSLY CRADLES THE AIR IN A SuRREPTIOuS BREEZE THAT COMES FROM SEEMINGLY FuCKING NOWHERE. THAT IS BECAuSE THE THRONE ITSELF. HAS BECOME LINKED TO A FAR AND STRANGE LAND. uNFAMILIAR ENTIRELY TO CALLIE BHORNE. HE DOES NOT KNOW IT YET. MERELY REACTS ON INFLuENCE. HIS FAuLTY PASSIVE PERCEPTION WEATHERED BY HIS YEARS AS MuSCLE FOR HIRE. HE FEELS A TWITCHY SPASM IN HIS WRIST. HIS INSTINCTS COMMAND HIM TO DRAW HIS SWORD. BuT HE REFuSES. HE KNOWS BETTER THAN TO RESORT TO WANTON AGGRESSION WITHOuT A TARGET. THE THINKPAN WILL OVERHEAT. SENDING SCORCHING THOuGHTS EVERYWHERE THAT BLINDINGLY ERASE ALL MOVEMENT uNTIL A SAFE DISTANCE IS OBSERVED FROM ALL LIVING THINGS. CALLIE BHORNE WOuLD MAKE CORPSES OF PARADISE FOR THE ELYSIuM FIELDS OF HIS OWN ISOLATION MADE PuRE AND PRISTINE ONCE AGAIN. THIS IS HIS DREADED CuRSE. TO WALK A PLANET HE WOuLD SOONER RAIZE THAN RAISE. HE CANNOT BE KNOWN TO LOVE. HE CANNOT RISK FEELING. AND HE CANNOT CHANCE A SINGLE LIVING BEING. EVER. AND YET. THERE IS THAT HOWLING. THAT WIND. THAT DAMNABLE FuCKING WIND. "TSK." CALLIE BHORNE GROWLS. ANOTHER FuCKING REPAIR NEEDED. NOBODY EVER TOLD HIM BEING A LIVING RELIC MEANT LIVING IN ONE. BYGONE ERAS HAVE A FuNNY WAY OF STICKING AROuND. CALLIE BHORNE TAKES THIS AS EVIDENCE. THAT CALLIE OHPEEE IS FuCKING WITH HIM. WHICH IS FuNNY. BECAuSE SHE PROBABLY DID NOT ACTuALLY DO THAT. BECAuSE SHE HATES HIM TO SCREW WITH HIM IN A CLEVER WAY. BECAuSE HE DEVOuRED HER. BuT THE FASTEST WAY. TO A GRIZZLED VETERAN'S HEART. IS THROuGH HIS STOMACH. A PLACE THAT CALLIE OHPEEE HAS BEEN. QuITE FATALLY. SHE LOVES HIM. EVEN IF HE WILL NOT SAY. WHICH IS WHY. uPON DISCOVERY THE THRONE ITSELF OPENS TO A TRANSPORTALIZED DIMENSION. ANOTHER WORLD. OR PLACE. OR LAND. OR BIOME. THE BLINDING LIGHT MAKES IT TRuLY DIFFICuLT TO TELL. HE REALIZES THE TRuTH. "NO FuCKING WAY." CALLIE OHPEEE HAS BLESSED THIS CRuSADE. HER FACE APPEARS FOR A BRIEF MOMENT. SHE LOOKS. STRANGE. uGLY. SHE ASSuMES ANOTHER OF HER FORMS MEANT TO TORMENT HIM. A GREEN SKuLL. STAINED WITH THE SLICK LIME BLOOD SHE WAS COATED IN WHEN HE FIRST DEVOuRED HER. HIS MOuTH WATERS. HE HAS NEVER FOuND A GRuBSAuCE SO DELECTABLE AS HIS FIRST MEAL. HE LITERALLY ATE THE EGGSHELL SHE HATCHED OuT OF. FOR ADDITIONAL NuTRIENTS. THAT SAuCE WAS SO FuCKING GOOD. ONLY NOW. AT LEAST IN APPEARANCE. THE BLOOD WAS BAD. VERY VERY BAD. LEFT TO COAGuLATE. ROT. ADHERE. AND THICKEN. LIKE A KIND OF ALMOST REPTILIAN HIDE. IF HIS HONORABLE TYRANNY WERE HIS LuSuS. WHAT WAS THIS? A HATCHMATE OVERREACH OF SOME KIND? SISTERLY SOBBING? BITCHING AND MOANING? uPON CLOSER INSPECTION. THE ANSWER BECAME MuCH CLEARER. LITTLE PINPRICK DRIPS OF RED. FRISKING ALONG HIS BODY. CALIBORN FINDS IT. A FRESHLY INFLICTED WOuND THAT WAS NOT THERE BEFORE. JuST ALONG HIS THORAX. THE uPPER CHIFFONIER. AS IF ANGLING FOR HIS BLOODPuSHER WITH EACH DARTED FINGER. HER WAY OF SAYING. THIS QuEST COuLD PROVE DEADLY. ALTHOuGH. CALLIE BHORNE WAS uNSuRE. EVEN CALIBORN WAS LIKE. GIRL WHAT THE FuCK IS YOu ON. THERE COuLD BE NO CERTAINTIES WHEN DEALING WITH HER. "HEH. GuESS MY HATCHMATE IS STILL LOOKING OuT FOR ME AFTER ALL THESE SWEEPS. SOME LOVE. HuH? SHE'S GOT A FuNNY WAY OF SHOWING IT." AND THEN. uNFuRLED. IS MY BLADE. READY TO BE BuRIED IN THE NECKS OF DuMBFuCKS. LOCATION: THE TRIBuNAL HALL OF SuPREME CAVORT. STOMPING GROuNDS OF HIS HONORABLE TYRANNY. EATING GROuNDS ALSO. THIS IS WHERE CALLIE BHORNE LIVES. BECAuSE HE IS SPECIAL. AND RAISED BY A BELOATHED BY ALL TYRANT. THE ROOM HAS COuNTLESS WEATHERED BONES SHAVED DOWN SO AS TO RESEMBLE MARBLE COLuMNS. BuT THEY ARE THICK. LIKE CEDAR WOOD TRuNKS. AND SPLINTERED. SO AS TO SuGGEST THE BEATING OF ANGRY FISTS. CLAWED AND CHEWED. SO AS TO SuGGEST THE CLuTCHING OF VERY DESPERATE HANDS DRAGGED OFF INTO OPEN MOuTH. AND BLOOD. SO MuCH BLOOD. THE THRONE ITSELF. HOWEVER. IS CLEAN. AN EXHIBIT ALMOST. EVIDENCE. OF TIME'S TRAGIC PASSING. A RELIC OF THE LIMES. LIKE MANY OF THE CONFISCATED LEGENDARY ITEMS HERE. THOuGH CALLIE BHORNE FANCIES HIMSELF SOMETHING OF A TROLL WITH AN EYE FOR ANTIQuES SPORTING SEASONED HISTORY BEHIND THEM. THESE ITEMS ARE ONLY ACQuIRED WHEN SOMEONE TRIES TO SMuGGLE OR SELL THE ILLICIT CONTRABAND. IN FACT. WERE IT NOT FOR HIS LuSuS. AND SLAPDASH CHARM. CALLIE WOuLD CERTAINLY BE KILLED FOR HIS EXTENSIVE BEWEARABLE WARES ALONE. OWNING THESE IS ILLEGAL. BuT CONFISCATING THEM. IS JuST ANOTHER TuESDAY. OR WHATEVER THE TROLL EQuIVALENT OF A TuESDAY IS. PROBABLY CHEWSDAY. IT IS JuST ANOTHER CHEWSDAY. INTERRuPTION: HE WAS COMMuNING. WITH HIS DEAD SISTER. OR AT LEAST TRYING TO. HIS HATCHMATE IS OFT uNRELIABLE. WHICH IS A SPECIAL KIND OF ESPECIALLY HIGH uNRELIABILITY. BuT THEN. THE SESSION. OR WHATEVER EXCITING COSMIC BuLLSHIT IS RuNNING THIS GAME. DECIDED TO INTERRuPT. WITH A PORTAL. OR AN APERTuRE. OR WHATEVER WHITE GLOWING BuLLSHIT YOu PEOPLE ARE uSING. I WANT TO KEEP MY WHITENESS CONSISTENT. IF WE ARE ALL DOING A WHITE THING. I WANT TO DO THE SAME WHITE THING. OTHERWISE I WILL FEEL LEFT OuT. AND THAT WOuLD BE REALLY SHITTY OF YOu GuYS. SO MAKE MY WHITE THING BE THE SAME AS YOuR WHITE THING. HOW THE SuMMONS APPEARS: THROuGH THE THRONE. OBVIOuSLY. THE GLOWING INTENSIFIES. AND INSTEAD OF JuST SHOWING CALLIE OHPEEE. WHICH IS WHAT IT uSuALLY SHOWS. IN MIDDLING LITTLE APPARITION LIKE OuTLINES. AND DEAD SISTER MONTAGE. AND LIMITLESS PATIENCE FOR ME. HER HATCHMATE. AND MY SILLY ANTICS. IT SHOWS SOMETHING ELSE. A LAIR. OR WHATEVER. MAKE IT SOMETHING APPROPRIATE. ACTuALLY. COuLD IT BE. LIKE. A THRONE ROOM. BuT BIGGER. AND WITH MORE BODIES. OR A FIELD OF CONQuERED ENEMIES. OR A CASINO. WHERE EVERYONE IS LOSING. EXCEPT HIM. CALLIE NEVER LOSES. EH. DOC. SCRATCH THAT. CALLIE NEVER HAS LOST. BECAuSE HE REFuSES TO GIVE uP. HE ALWAYS TRIES. AND RETRIES. EVEN IN THE FACE OF ABSOLuTE SuREFIRE DEFEAT. HE WRENCHES VICTORY FROM HIS OWN JAWS. THAT IS WHAT I MEANT TO SAY OF HIM. YES. SO DECIDE. A VISION THAT CALLS FOR HIM. PERHAPS. SOMEONE IN NEED? YES. THAT WOuLD BE GENIuS. CALLIE IS EXTRAORDINARILY NEEDABLE. AND WILLING TO MAKE HIS TROLLIAN CLAWS. AN OuTSTRETCHED SORT. WHAT YOu GLIMPSE: SOMETHING THAT REPRESENTS POWER. AND DOMINATION. AND VICTORY. BuT ALSO. SECRETLY. SOMETHING THAT REPRESENTS HIS SISTER. IN SOME ROuNDABOuT WAY. THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT FOR HIS CHARACTERIZATION. HOW YOuR LuSuS OR SuRROuNDINGS REACT: HIS LuSuS HOWLS WITH EARSPLITTING INTENSITY. HIS HONORABLE TYRANNY. HuGE GROSS MONSTER. BLACK BLOOD. BRAINLESS BEASTIE. HE LETS OuT A ROAR. OR SOMETHING EQuALLY TERRIBLE. AND IT DOES NOT REACT WITH FEAR. BECAuSE IT DOES NOT FEEL FEAR. IT REACTS WITH RECOGNITION. LIKE. "OH. MY SON. CALLIE BHORNE. HAS BEEN SuMMONED FOR ANOTHER ADVENTuRE. HOW REGuLAR. AND ORDINARY. BE SuRE TO KILL AND PARTIALLY CANNIBALIZE PLENTY OF PEOPLE. MY SWEET. CHERuBICALLY CHARMING BOY." AND CALLIE BRuSHES HIS THuMB. AGAINST HIS VERY EXISTANT NOSE. AND GOES. "TSK. SHuT uP FATHER. I AM GROWN NOW. I AM NOT SOME HELPLESS LITTLE PuPA ANYMORE." AND HE GROWLS. SOMBERLY. "I KNOW. BuT WHEN I LOOK uPON MY SON. MY HERO. MY LITTLE LEGISLACERITO. I DO NOT SEE YOu AS YOu ARE. I SEE YOu. AS WHAT YOu HAVE BECOME. FROM WHAT YOu WERE. A WEIGHTED AVERAGE. SuNDERED BY MY SINKING HEART." AND HE GOES. "HMP. WHATEVER DAD. LOVEYOuTOO." AND HIS DAD SCREECHES LOuDLY. "MY SON!!!" OR MAYBE IT DOES NOT SAY ANYTHING. AND JuST. GROWLS. APPROVINGLY. WHATEVER WOuLD BE COOLER. WHAT PART OF YOu ANSWERS FIRST: NOT FEAR. HE DOES NOT FEEL FEAR. JuST LIKE HIS FATHER. HE FEELS ANTICIPATION. THE PART THAT WANTS TO CONQuER. THE PART THAT WANTS TO DEVOuR. THE PART THAT LOOKS AT A MYSTERIOuS PORTAL AND THINKS. "YES. MORE uNSETTLED SCORES. AND WRONGS TO RIGHT." OR POSSIBLY. THE PART THAT HEARS HIS SISTER. WHISPERING. FROM THE THRONE. SAYING. "DONT GO. YOu IDIOT. ITS A TRAP. A DEADLY FuCKING TRAP." BuT HE IGNORES HER. BECAuSE HE IS THE PALADIN. NOT THE PALADIN'T. YOuR FINAL ACTION: CALLIE. DOES NOT. uNDER ANY CIRCuMSTANCES. SHOW HESITATION. HESITATION IS FOR PEOPLE WHO ARE NOT CALLIE BHORNE. AND THEREFORE. NOT ME. BECAuSE I MADE HIM. AND I AM ALSO NEVER HESITANT. EXCEPT WHEN I AM. WHICH IS NEVER. ALTHOuGH. THERE WAS THAT ONE TIME. BuT I WAS MERELY. READYING AN ATTACK. AN ASSBLAST ATTACK THAT PROVED FATAL. FOR MY ENEMIES. SO IT IS LESS A HESITATION. AND MORE A READYING POSE. WHICH IS WHAT HE STRIKES. BEFORE SAYING SOMETHING REALLY FuCKING COOL. LIKE. "...WELL WELL WELL. IS THIS THE PART. WHERE I TOSS IN A QuARTER AND MAKE A WISH?" OR. "THE THRONE BECKONS. QuIT YOuR BITCHING. I'M LITERALLY COMING RIGHT NOW." OR. "CALLIE OHPEEE. WATCH OVER FATHER FOR ME WHILE I AM GONE. OKAY?" OR JuST. "...CONQuEST CALLS." WHATEVER HE SAYS. PROBABLY ALL OF THESE THINGS. HE IS NOT NICE. HE IS GRIZZLED AND EDGY. HE ATE HIS SISTER AND REGRETS NOTHING EXCEPT THAT HE COuLD NOT EAT HER TWICE. HE IS A MONSTER. AND HE IS MY FAVORITE CHARACTER. BECAuSE HE IS THE ONLY ONE WHO uNDERSTANDS ME.

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Marquise Spinneret Mindfang

2 weeks ago

Patron

A certified moneyspender. Thanks for supporting the site!

@theMarquise[TM]

~ The 25th 8ilunar Perigee of the 3rd Dim Season's Equinox. ~ It has 8een nearly a perigee since I last granted these pages the privilege of my attention. I am certain this will distress wh8ver imagined audience has taken to pressing its little face against the glass of my affairs. Let it. A depriv8tion may 8e instructive, and silence, when set loose among the needy, fattens wonderfully. My a8sence was not idleness. I have 8een called to meetings, feasts, negoti8tions, disciplinary amusements, and one argument with the Orphaner that 8egan as a dispute over cargo and ended, as many of our 8etter quarrels do, with neither of us admitting what was truly 8eing contested. He claimed certain captives taken near the eastern shoals were naval property 8y imperial right. I reminded him that imperial right is a charming phrase often used 8y trolls who arrived too l8. They were on my deck. They trem8led when I looked at them. The matter was therefore settled with all the ceremony it deserved. He did not agree. This would have trou8led me if his disagreement had 8een less 8eautiful. The Orphaner wears displeasure like armor left too long in salt w8r, stiff, 8right in places, and always thre8ning to cut the one trying to 8ear it. He spoke of discipline, seizure, chain of command, and all the little phrases men gather around themselves when they fear saying want. I watched his jaw work. I watched his eyes give him away. He is never more royal than when he is trying not to 8e common. I asked whether he resented the loss of imperial property, or whether he resented that I had taken something from under his nose and left him unsure whether to challenge me, claim me, or drag me 8y the throat into some darker privacy where his politics could at last stop em8arrassing us 8oth. He left 8efore striking me. A waste. I had selected earrings with 8loodshed in mind. The next several evenings were spent among the high8looded, which is to say among those grand, lacquered creatures who mistake a long pedigree for a thought. The halls were dressed in the usual vulgar excellence. 8lack ta8les polished to a wet shine. Curtains dyed in colors that required several ruined villages to achieve. Servants arranged a8out the cham8er with the anxious grace of o8jects that know they may still 8e punished for falling. There were de88s over port tariffs, tri8ute 8oundaries, inheritance claims, and other polite methods of theft. A violet dowager proposed a levy against independent raiders, and I congratul8d her on inventing piracy for those too arthritic to 8oard a vessel. A cerulean magistr8 laughed. Poorly. 8riefly. Then spent the rest of the evening pretending his throat had made the sound without consulting him. Moneymaw was there as well, or near enough to count. One could smell him 8efore the doors admitted him: 8rine, old coin, lacquered de8t, and the sort of expensive to8acco smoked 8y men who prefer their threats to mature in the mouth 8efore release. He did not domin8 the room. He did something more irritating. He let the room discover it had already arranged itself around him. A lesser pir8 would have taken this for respect. I took it for accounting. We exchanged no greeting worth preserving. Only a look. His said he had noticed the Orphaner’s temper. Mine said I had noticed him noticing, and would charge interest if he intended to make use of it. The feast that followed was nearly good enough to redeem the company. First came pearl8lind eel, served alive 8eneath a veil of fermented 8rineglass. Its skin shimmered after the spine was opened, and custom demanded we wait until the eyes clouded 8efore drawing the first strip through 8lack salt. The creature shuddered against the pl8 as though still negotiating. Delightful manners, for meat. After that came marrowfruit swollen around cave-gru8 8ones, aged until the rind softened and 8reathed. When pierced, it sighed. A young heir across the ta8le flinched, then tried to disguise the failure 8y praising the aroma. It was, admittedly, magnificent. Sweet rot, mineral damp, venom, and that warm little note particular to things which died in hiding. Spread over charred shell8read, it made the dowager close her eyes in a way I 8elieve she imagined was discreet. There was needle8eetle roe suspended in chilled hemolymph custard, each 8ead 8ursting sharp enough to sting the gums. Vulgar to smile at the first 8ite, naturally, as it shows whether the roe has taken hold properly. I smiled. Several others waited to see if they were permitted to do the same. This is how fashion is 8orn: cowardice looking for permission from the correct mouth. The final dish was flashpickled thinkpan frond from some reef-8red stupidity the cooks insisted on calling semi-sentient, as if pity has ever 8een improved 8y classific8tion. The fronds curled when 8reathed upon. One must eat them 8efore they finish spelling the last sens8tion of the creature they were cut from. Mine tasted of salt, panic, and a white flash 8eneath deep w8r. I requested another. This is what the low and sentimental will never understand a8out appetite. They think revulsion is an argument. They 8elieve the 8ody’s little hesit8tions are moral insight. A mouth recoils, and suddenly they have discovered a principle. How quaint. How provincial. The strange thing, the soft thing, the writhing thing, the thing that remem8ers 8eing alive, all of it asks the only question worth honoring at ta8le. Has it 8een prepared well? Still, my pan has not 8een entirely steady. The pain 8ehind my eyes has thinned since the last entry, 8ut not vanished. It has changed character. Less 8lade now, more tide. A pressure arriving and withdrawing in a rhythm I do not enjoy, chiefly 8ecause I did not command it. Twice during the meetings I lost the thread of convers8tion 8ecause another seemed to pass 8eneath it, faint as a voice heard through wet wood. No one in the room spoke. No one in the room had the courage to think so loudly. At dinner, while a gold8looded advoc8 explained tariff law with all the seduction of damp parchment, I felt the page 8efore me grow crowded. Not physically. I am not so addled as that. 8ut there was a nearness. A gathering of attention. As if unseen readers had leaned too close and fogged the margin with their awe. I attri8uted this to the custard. I continue to attri8ute it to the custard. One must not crown every inconvenience with prophecy merely 8ecause it arrives wearing a veil. If some aperture has opened, it will show its hinge eventually. If some distant little voyeur has found a way to 8reathe through my paper, it will learn quickly that access is not ownership. If it is illness, it will pass. If it is not illness, it will 8ehave. Until then, sweet readers, should you exist in any meaningful sense, do mind your mouths near the page. Awe stains almost as 8adly as 8lood. #mindfangJournal #ancestorposting #alternianHistory #high8loodPolitics #gorefood #gore #8odyhorror