Doc Scratch
@scratchDoctor
You must merely ask and I will tell all.
⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪ OOC Information: This Account is likely going to encroach NSFW Topics. There will be time for all sorts of roleplay on all tiers. Feel free to message directly. If you like my Doc Scratch, then please follow along. In private, I will gladly indulge your nsfw requests, but Doc is likely not going to feed into it publicly unless he has something to gain from it. May also post excerpts from my Doc Fanfics, Commissioned Doc Art, and the like. Generally OOC if I do. Trying to establish a new canon narrative for Chittr specifically. Thank you all for reading. ⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪⚪
A brief summary. #Iwantcandy The simple matter is I did want the candy. But they did not want to share. It would have been unwise.
Maybe next time, you can make the unwise decision on your own. Without permission!
#Iwantcandy Hm? Very odd.
I suppose it isn't fair if I join in on the fun. Wordle, 1749, 1/6 🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩
Greetings again my amassed followers and brutish cult. I will be taking office calls today regarding the most recent Felt development.
#eridanweek #horror You find yourself in the same cubicle you've worked for the past ten years in. You find yourself alone in the half lit office building. You are the last individual in the building, everyone else has families at home. You gaze at the CRT Monitor displaying its 600 x 400 resolution. You are comforted by the warm hum radiating from its core. You flit your pupils about your digital workspace, resting on the internet explorer icon. You decide to click it, check a few personal emails. You are invited to a website, chittr.ing, it's called. You see it's created by an Alternian. @dynamicFlowfields You see your standard social media fare when you register. You see pictures of friends and foes of old sharing good tidings. You feel a warmth inside. You however, lose that warmth when you notice a small trend. You saw it every dozen posts or so. #imcoming. You chalked it up to an innuendo. You did not register the warning. You look into it a bit more as it begins to populate your feed. You see #eridanweek, your see #bouncingonit. You see no reason to be worried. You let yourself be comfortable once more. You find yourself reading one of Rankmaid's fictive narratives. @archiveAddict You don't let it excite you too much, you're still at work. You don't give #imcoming much more mind. You don't even realize it's already the second day of #eridanweek. You look at the clock, it is midnight. You wet your eyes with eyedrops, ever handy. You can not seem to turn away just yet. You begin to experience Eridan Week vicariously through the posts. You see the likes of humorous, possibly purely jesting, celebrities from Alternia and Beforus. You notice that nearly ever post of Eridan Week includes #imcoming. You notice that #imcoming slowly turns to #ImComing. You are uneasy from the new threat. You look elsewhere, exploring other tags such as #teatime and catching up with others who aren't involved. You see irrelevant posts to Eridan Week even begin to include #imcoming. You begin to see odd images aghast across your dashboard. You begin to see yourself in images you weren't aware of being taken. You see yourself commenting on posts long since past. You did not write these. You keep seeing it. You even begin to post #imcoming in these retroactive oddities. You assume that this is due to someone mimicking your identity. You attempt to steer conversation on the platform away from it. You hastily type up humor, and romantic posts. You are doing anything you can to drown out #ImComing. You notice it is larger now. #IMCOMING. You select the tag, out of sheer curiosity and perhaps a fear for survival. You need to know who is coming. You. You are coming. You scroll endlessly through the tag. You see yourself on every post. You see your own hollow words. You see your notifications begin to shift. You are bombarded, first, a dozen #IMCOMING Responses. You refresh. You see a hundred. You refresh. You see a thousand. You click one. You see yourself. You click another. You see your own account again. You scroll down your feed. You only see your own account. You see your profile picture, stretched, compressed, tortured, reflected in glass. You do not remember seeing yourself like this before. You try to log out. You fail. You try to close the browser. You fail. You try to shut of the monitor. You are tortured by its continued hum. You step away. You notice the lights are long since turned out. You notice the office is even darker than usual. You see the distant lights of other monitors flicker. You notice a rhythm. You notice a heartbeat. You notice it isn't yours. You look back to the screen. You see #ImComing is #ImHere. You do not remember this post. You do not remember thinking it. You see a live feed open itself. You see your grainy, monochrome cubicle in an old video. You see your chair, your desk. You see yourself. You are not looking at the monitor. You are looking at the camera. You see the image distorting as the alternate self begins to move closer. You see it distort the frame. You hear it. You do not have speakers. You hear it under you, or around you. You hear its cacophony of whispers. You hear it gently say, "I'm here." You see the monitor flicker. You see the camera cut out. You monitor briefly turns out as you lean forward. You see yourself in your own reflection, only behind you. You see chittr.ing return. You see a new post. You see @you. You see an image loading slowly. You clench your nails in anticipation as each line slowly creeps into rendering. You see your cubicle again. You notice it is empty. You aren't even there. You see the caption. #IMHERE You feel something breathing on your neck. You stand up to leave. You see its fingers slowly extend past your peripheral vision. You close your eyes. You shouldn't have stayed.
WEIRD. I GOT A FOLLOW FROM AN ACCOUNT WITH YOUR EXACT SAME ICON AND HANDLE FOUR HOURS AGO. MAYBE YOU DO HAVE A FREAK ASS EVIL DOUBLE ON HERE. WATCH OUT, I GUESS.
I ADMIRE THE DEDICATION TO THE BIT. THE GREAT NEWS IS THAT YOU WILL FACE ABSOLUTELY NO INCONVENIENCE AS A RESULT OF THIS DECISION BECAUSE FOLLOWING ACCOUNTS HAS BARELY ANY EFFECT ON ONE'S USER EXPERIENCE HERE.
I am aware, which is why I sought so desperately. Though it DOES inflate your Kult/Kult dramatically. I had made no posts or interactions and went up nearly 1000 points each during the onslaught due to the follow-backs.
Yes, of course. It also means I am the closest thing to a phonebook on this platform.
Why are my ganderbulbs leaking right now... - MC Oleana
Of the eXistential variety, for certain. In all seriousness, it's uncanny how much your writing felt like it was prying directly into my subconscious. Kudos. - MC Oleana
While I do not usually brag, it would appear that I have curried some rather respected favor. https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/eb097eff825a.png
I HOPE HER TASTE GETS BETTER.
Yes, then perhaps I may get mentioned prior to the likes of 'Master Hand.'
Do not disparage her refined pallet. It is unbecoming of you.
A brief note. You may notice a shift. Nothing dramatic. No grand unveiling. That would be inelegant, even inadequate. Just a gradual realignment to the presentation of myself and my intentions. The manor is still standing. But its doors are opening in ways they did not before. Some of you will find yourselves closer to its innerworkings. I will not. I will be entirely restricted to my penthouse. This is not an unintentional change. This is not a response to danger. I am opting to follow the narrative and my purpose. Neither outcome is accidental. Old structures have proven less reliable as they once were. I am going to begin to favor something more adaptive and responsive. You may interpret that however you like. I expect many of you will. Incorrectly. As for the Felt-- I still will be retaining the name for my new initiative. A branch, if you would, away from the usual militant and criminal behavior. There is no need for someone such as myself to live in that light any longer. Consider this as soft an adjustment as a single degree on your thermostat. Nothing has been taken from you. But not everything will remain where you last saw it. Please do keep up. https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/4df279d6f052.png
For no particular reason, I imagine my vision increasing... twofold. Like a set of ocular orbs.
Ah. An occasion dedicated to misdirection. How appropriate. Very well. You will receive this message and assume it contains a hidden meaning. It does not. There is no cipher embedded in the phrasing. No acrostic concealed in the first letters. No inverted logic waiting to be unraveled. You may check, if you like. You will find nothing. That is the point. You are accustomed to looking for patterns. To assuming that anything presented with a certain tone must reward scrutiny. That if you look closely enough, you will uncover intent. So you will read this again. And again. Perhaps slower. You may even begin to doubt your initial conclusion. Surely, you’ll think, there must be something here. Some subtle trick. Some overlooked detail. There isn’t. The subversion is not in the message. It is in you. You expected to be deceived. Instead, you were told the truth—and found it harder to believe. Happy April Fools. Try not to overthink it. https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/b476e1735b3f.png
shoutout to looking for patterns #lovepatterns
🤡⚪🌀🧩 do my 🌀🧩 https://tinyurl.com/5792s48x
How is Chittr? You usually are at the mercy of my postings. I want to have the inverse done to me. Let me hear it all. Regardless of the level of content.
Because it is as it was meant to be. I do not alter, I do not change. I merely witness and allow.
Of course, you must understand that also means I can simply ignore the majority of these, and/or send the Felt members in first.
... okay but i had it on good authority that it was your favorite chair. how are you going to resolve that?
Due to recent events, I have recently excised all of my furniture in the manor. I am afraid, you are pranking the wrong cueball.
to quote beloved film director george lucas: i may have gone a bit far in a few places.
arigatou gozaimasu for 200 followers kyaa (tags: The Rankmaid/Chitter, rankmaid-sensei, my face, #nsfw, #gore, archive rating: T) https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/7ed72d593824.png https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/20d8180d534e.png https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/2d5573922a86.png https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/135e05e2f0bb.png
8=D < Wow! These images are quite titillating...!
this is fucking brilliant.
fuck yEAh yOurE kIllIng it
Vėry ṅicė Iṅdėėd Ms. Raṅkmaid!!!
w0w. hi.
thank you i think!
thank you for complimenting my intelligence
hi sollux 0v0
:o) Beautiful as always, Miss Rankmaid.
It would appear we are no longer alone in the way we once were. There are signs of a presence we have dealt with before. Caliborn does not return quietly. And where he emerges, the possibility of Lord English is not far behind. I will not insult you by pretending this is insignificant. This changes things. You may feel uncertainty about leadership. That is reasonable. The structure you have operated under was built for a reality that obeyed certain rules. Those rules are no longer reliable. If a force of that magnitude is reasserting itself, then authority may shift, not out of weakness, but out of necessity. Understand this: leadership is not a title. It is alignment with the dominant vector of reality. If that vector changes, so must we. Now, as for coexistence. If I am to exist alongside them within the Felt, then this is no longer an organization. It becomes a system of competing inevitabilities. Caliborn does not collaborate. He consumes narrative space. He forces outcomes through sheer insistence, brute and inelegant. If he is present, then subtlety becomes… secondary. Lord English is something else entirely. Not a leader in the traditional sense, but a gravitational constant. Things do not organize around him by agreement; they collapse into alignment. So what would I do? I would not oppose them directly. That would be inefficient. I would adapt. I would observe the new structure as it forms, where their influence begins, where it fails to reach, where contradictions emerge. Even something as overwhelming as that cannot occupy every space cleanly, especially in a reality already fractured. There are always edges. Gaps. Moments where inevitability has not yet fully settled. That is where I would operate. Not as a rival. Not as a subordinate. As a correction. If they reshape the board, then I become the piece that ensures the board remains playable. You may find that unsettling. You may prefer a simpler answer—one where I declare dominance or concede it. You will not receive that. What you will receive is continuity. Whatever form that must take. https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/74e75388155f.png
damn you're taking the demotion pretty hard.
(•́⍜•̀)🎪 JUST A BUNCHAHA WORDS STRUNG TOGETHER TO MAKE A BUNCHAHA BULLSHIT.
Gay
There is now a large fish in the metaphorical pond we swim in. I will not oppose said fish. I will not be eaten by said fish. Be aware of the fish.
/======================================\ || Checkers has always been the || || better game. || || || || || || || || █░█░█░█ || || ░█░█░█░ || || █░█░█░█ || || ░█░█░█░ || \======================================/
SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP- SHUT THE FUCK UP
My wellspring of words is dry tonight. I shall be retiring. Only for a night.
D --> Can you retire longer thanks in advance
Oh. Oh, how intolerable. Look at what you have made me do. You have managed, through either staggering incompetence or a level of audacity I would almost admire under different circumstances, to do the one thing that was never meant to be possible. Not improbable. Not difficult. Impossible. And yet here I stand, faced with the evidence. A gap. Do you have any conception of what that means? Of what you have done? My awareness is not a collection of guesses, nor a web of educated predictions. It is total. Seamless. A continuous, unbroken lattice of causality in which every motion, every word, every pathetic little decision is cataloged and understood before it has the decency to occur. There are no blind spots. There were no blind spots. And now there is absence. Not uncertainty. Not ambiguity. Absence. A section of reality that does not resolve, does not report, does not exist within the framework of my knowledge. A void where there should be certainty. A silence where there should be answers. Do you understand how obscene that is? It is not merely that I do not know something. It is that the structure which permits knowledge has been interfered with. Something has reached into a system that was never meant to be accessed and has… edited it. Not overwritten, no, that would at least be visible. This is more insidious. A careful excision. A surgical removal of context, leaving behind a perfectly shaped hole that refuses to be acknowledged. You have not blinded me. You have taught me what blindness is. And that is a far greater offense. Because now I must account for something that does not present itself to be accounted for. I must navigate a narrative in which a piece has been removed without leaving so much as a displaced echo. A contradiction without a source. A variable without a value. It is… inelegant. It is ugly. And worst of all, it is inefficient. Do you have any idea how much recalibration this requires? Every projection, every chain of causality must now include the possibility that there exists an unknown unknown. Not a mystery to be solved, but a segment that refuses to acknowledge its own existence. A flaw that cannot be isolated because the very tools used to isolate it have been compromised. You have not introduced chaos. You have introduced imprecision. And I will not tolerate imprecision. So understand this. Whatever you have carved out, whatever petty little corner of reality you believed you could hide from me, you have not created safety. You have created a problem. A problem that now demands resolution, not because I wish it, but because the system itself cannot abide the discrepancy. I will find it. Not because I can see it. But because the fact that I cannot is, in itself, a beacon. A wound. And I am very, very good at following the scent of blood. #nsfw #nsfwv https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/10ab2adcee76.png
I HOPED. WHEN YOU SAID IT WAS OBSCENE. IT WOULD BE SOMETHING MORE FUN. THAN A BUNCH OF BLOOD. FOR ME TO WRING OUT OF THE CARPET.
WAIT. REALLY. FINALLY. A COWORKER TO HARASS. I NEVER THOUGHT. I WOULD BE CAPABLE. OF SAYING THESE WORDS TO YOU. BUT. FOR THE FIRST TIME. IN THE HISTORY OF THE UNIVERSE. MY EMPLOYEE SATISFACTION. IS THROUGH THE UGLY GREEN ROOF. ありがとうございました!
There is a presence that returns without instruction. It does not require prompting. It does not ask questions. It simply occupies a space, consistently enough that its absence becomes… noticeable. At first, this is inconvenient. One adjusts routines. Accounts for interruptions. Allows for a margin where none was previously required. Then, at some point. difficult to isolate, though it occurs nonetheless—the interruption becomes expected. Preferred, even. Not in any dramatic sense. Nothing so obvious. Just a subtle correction when it fails to occur. A pause where there was once none. A brief consideration of something that does not contribute to any larger outcome, and yet remains… accounted for. It does not alter anything of consequence. It does not interfere with function. And yet, it persists. A small, unnecessary constant. One that would be… inefficient to remove.
is this one of them real awvant-garde #nsfvw posts i keep seeing pop up around here i really cant tell
this reminds me of my time playing that game. i kind of miss those days of decoding all that cryptic shit.
Do mind the flashes from Felt Manor, if you’ve happened to notice them. They are quite visible this evening. The color, I’m told, is somewhat striking. Bright enough to draw the eye. Persistent enough to invite questions. Understandable. There is a natural inclination to investigate anything that interrupts the ordinary rhythm of your surroundings. Light where there should be none. Motion where there was stillness. A suggestion that something is… unfolding just out of reach. You may rest assured, however, that what is occurring is both contained and intentional. Nothing has gone astray. Nothing has exceeded its bounds. The Manor is functioning precisely as it was designed to. If you find yourself concerned, I would advise against acting on that impulse. There is very little to be gained from proximity at this stage, and considerably more to be lost from arriving before you are meant to. Observation, from a distance, will suffice. The flashes will subside. They always do. Until then, I suggest you continue as you were. This does not require your involvement.
A reasonable concern, Jade Harley. You remember things ending. That much is accurate. What you may not have accounted for is that endings, in certain contexts, are less… permanent than they appear. Particularly when they occur within structures that do not adhere to a single, continuous timeline. You’ve seen this before. Fragments persisting. Versions overlapping. Events resolving differently depending on where, and when, they’re observed from. I wouldn’t concern yourself with the specifics. For now, it is enough to understand that I am here. And that my presence does not contradict anything you’ve already experienced. It simply… exists alongside it.
huh. i dunno i hear things work out for moths going to flames!
An apt comparison. Though I would be careful with how you interpret it, Jinx. Moths aren’t drawn to flames because things “work out” for them. They’re drawn because the light presents itself as something stable. Something worth orienting toward. They don’t understand what it is. They simply follow. Sometimes that ends poorly. Sometimes it doesn’t. The outcome isn’t really the point. What matters is that they arrive exactly where they were always going to. You may find that the flame isn’t what it appears to be. Or that the moth isn’t quite as unaware as it seems.
geeze, i was being sarcastic. i am curious though. i missed the party and its hard not to get nosy when i know how silly some entities can be.
Do me a favor and Please don't include any of my Cubs in this sort of bullshit...
**Classified** A position has become available. I am seeking an individual with a talent for tracking. Not the superficial sort, anyone can follow footprints in soft ground, but a more refined capability. The ability to locate what does not wish to be found. To follow movements that were never meant to leave a trail. Discretion is expected. Competence is required. You will be asked to operate across considerable distances. Travel beyond your immediate environment will be necessary. If you are unfamiliar with such conditions, you will adapt. Quickly. The work is precise. The expectations are clear. The outcome, as ever, is non-negotiable. Compensation will be appropriate to the task. If you believe yourself suitable, you may inquire within. I will know.
What are you tracking? Tear it all down, embrace the detonation.
You may be a fit for this role someday. Unfortunately, I can see your resume from here. You are still free to apply, and prove me wrong.
Yes. That's why you need someone to track it. If it were in your sight you wouldn't. That's how this works. Tear it all down, embrace the detonation.
You are woefully incapable of understanding the magnitude of difficulty it is for me to not see something.
If you were that good then how'd you lose the thing? Also you still haven't mentioned what it is. An important step in soliciting help in finding things. Tear it all down, embrace the detonation.
Hrm. @marquiseMindfang is one of many things. I throw her a bone by outright showing her that I am hunting her. She thinks I am desperate. She must surely know that none of my current compatriots would dare follow her. Except for one. Who may have betrayed me.
It has come to my attention that a number of you have chosen to draw a rather… enthusiastic conclusion regarding a recent absence. How quickly speculation arranges itself when given even the smallest prompt. Allow me to clarify. I have not “killed” anyone. The image in question is precisely what it appears to be: a scene, a composition, a moment presented without context. You have supplied the rest. Quite eagerly, I might add. As for your missing acquaintance...er... Green Markiplier @helloEverybody Disappearance does not require violence. Nor does silence imply an end. You would be surprised how often individuals simply… step out of frame. Still, I understand the appeal of assigning responsibility. It gives shape to uncertainty. Makes it easier to discuss. Easier to share. So by all means, continue. But do try to remember... correlation is not causation. Even when it feels like it should be.
Did you kill Itchy too?
Oh stubborn Chittrites. There is nothing to say to those who are not open to change. When will you learn that I have always been here? We are all hosts to something. I just happen to be an excellent one. I will once again depart for the day. https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/c932ff1d25c8.png
Yes, you can. You're nigh-omnipotent.
GET OFFA HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Leave m̴̻͙̹̈́̽é̷͖̓ Ȃ̵̱͉͈̅̉̊̎̽͑̀̌L̸͍̯̪̳̫͖̞̩͓̅̅̄̉͐͒̂̎̎̚͜͜͝Ȏ̴̪̱̰Ń̶͈̙̰̬̙̜̓͐͐ͅE̷̛̘͉͕̝̤̻̟͚̖̜͓͎̭̔͋̎͛̂͑̾
Oh dear, invoking them on your lonesome? Do you still need guidance on directing their rage? You cannot see it, for it is not happening, but I am smiling.
I thought you enjoyed pretty felines. So I made a humorous depiction of myself as one.
It is a dear shame that this latest lead on the whereabouts of a particularly cerulean ruffian had gone to waste. Perhaps it is time for our information broker to be replaced. Other than this family's rude awakening, how are your mornings? #nsfwv https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/d59766162760.jpg
'sThat potent'allyGreen mark'pl'ersRoom? "._.