I think that I am overdue for an introduction post. About five or six months too late, sure, but who's keeping count? This is just to enlighten anyone who might see my posts and wonder "Thirty days? What ever could she mean?" My name is Rose Lalonde. One of many on this site, and one of an infinitely spanning scale of people bearing my name and face. A drop in the ocean, so to speak. I have never once believed myself to be a standout amongst my kin. All that really makes me unique, if you ask me, are the things that are a result of my timeline having a particularly strong amount of interference from Lord English and his reality-warping henchmen. When my friends and I beat our game, we entered the universe that was to be our prize, only to find an expanse of space stuffed to the brim with radiation so potent it rendered the planets we placed in it dead on arrival. Somehow, the Green Sun returned. And I do mean 'somehow'. If you want a detailed explanation as to how a construct of the game existed in our new universe, you are sitting in the same boat as us. Our Jade came up with a plan, and she flew off to enact it. She never returned. Whatever she may have done out there pulled back the influence of the Green Sun and allowed our universe to flourish. Millions of years into the future and a subsequent seven spent searching for her, we gave up the search, because I got sick. For the last several years, I've "suffered" from an illness no doctor has been able to explain. My visions tear through the crevices of my brain, separating synapse from synapse. The headaches split me in two. My body weakens, my energy depletes, and all of my pain and prophecies coalesce into a single, finite point of absolute certainty — I am going to die. There is a time, and a place. It will happen outside of my house, a mere few steps out of my front door. It will happen early into November of this year, and I will not get to know what does it. It could be a stray bullet or the implosion of the Green Sun itself putting an untimely end to our infant universe, and me along with it. Regardless of the cause, no vision I have ever had stretches beyond that moment. I want no pity for this. I've known about it for years, and I have gone through the seven stages and then some. On a lighter note... I've taken up sketching on my phone as a way to pass the time. I like to knit, I enjoy a ridiculous comedy and a gothic romance every now and then, and I wrote a novel called Complacency of the Learned, with half of a sequel tucked securely in my house for some future author with my same detached ironic je ne sais quoi to carry on my legacy with. I hope this answers any questions anyone might have over the next thirty days. Here is a fun little bonus activity: If you read all of this, reply with "Tentacle". It will confuse anyone who didn't and give me a chuckle. You wouldn't deny a dying woman a chuckle, would you?
Please, Rose. Must I?
I'm so sickly and devoid of chuckles...
Cough cough.
Sigh. Very well. I shall make an exception. Tentacle. And no, it's not #suggestive on my end.
tent♤cle.
Tentacle I struggle to imagine what could kill you by surprise Unless the vision is followed by some act of heroism it just seems Off
tentacle lol
Tentaclle.
tentacle.
tentacle.