- Myriad Mirror
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An actual play blog for the excellent journaling game,
A Visit to San Sibilia, narrated by my love sick lesbian with a taste for the dramatic, Darling. It was meant as a tie-in for a stalled
Wanderhome game.
I originally described it like this:
This blog is a work of fiction based on
A Visit to San Sibilia by Peter Eijk and
Wanderhome by Possum Creek Games. The realtime update format was inspired by
Dracula Daily.
Journal entries will be published 1-6 days apart, according to the whims of my dice. The game ends when it ends.
My Twine stuff is currently unavailable. I'll try and get it back online when I can find the files again. :/
- Hemlock
- An electrum microfic about an m6k synth who shares a few things in common with one of my Floraverse characters.
- Listen
- Unorthodox interactive poem inspired by a nightmare.
Sometimes I write poems. Here are a few I don't hate!
- Corroded former humanoid
- Embraces pain she can't avoid
- Vibration, tension, cosmic flow
- The thrum that makes her paranoid
- Whispers secrets we can't know
- Whispers from the world below
- The sounds of signals long ago
- Split the distance, cross the void
- To activate her radio
- This heavy heart like hammer pounds
- It's pulsing, pumping, panic bound
- This mind, a blaring battleground
- Of screeching, scratching, static sound
- She feels the pull, the catch, the pain
- The scratch that breaks her skin again
- The numbness seeping in again
- Again, again, it's all in vain
- She feels the fissure in her skin
- She rips herself another
- In desperation, lashing in
- She screams in silent sunder
- She, in filth and terror lies
- She, ever dying, never dies
- She's given in to ugly lies
- The lies, the lies, she hopes she dies
- Her rusted nails, her shattered skull
- Hewn in two but never twain
- A wonder that she feels at all
- The cycle circles round again
- Again, again, to her chagrin
- And frantic panic, seeking end
- Her broken mind and body mend
- And so another turn begins
- I wish I could write poetry
- But I suppose you'll disagree
- With my assessment of my skill
- And say the only limit's me
- It's true, I write and rhyme and pun
- And all of that, I do for fun
- But though a poem this seems to be
- You've been deceived; it isn't one