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labelleizzy · 3 months

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Today's writing prompt:

How do you define intimacy?

It's funny how difficult this is for me to wrap words around. Because for me intimacy isn't the same as sex not even remotely. Intimacy is primarily, primarily trust, honesty, feeling safe, and vulnerability. Playfulness is an important component as well, affection and love also.

The funny thing is there's a certain level of intimacy that I am totally fine sharing with strangers. Intellectual and emotional intimacy, is sometimes even easier with strangers. I can share stories at various levels, of things that have happened in my life, things that I think, believe, prioritize.

Physical intimacy to one specific point, which is: I love giving hugs. I even receive compliments regularly, and have started volunteering at pride events, with the free mom hugs organization. I'm really good at putting my whole heart into it, my whole attention, and all of the nonverbal comforting things that go into making a really good hug. And that is important to me. To be good at that.

Here's the thing. What I said at the beginning about trust and honesty and feeling safe. People who don't know me, don't know how to keep me safe.

I would love to be open-hearted and free and welcoming on the dance floor, for example I've been a dancer for decades. But if somebody doesn't know me well enough to know that I have an injured knee, and ankle on the same leg. Twice now in the 8 years I've been doing ecstatic dance, a partner flung me into a spin in a way that was painful because they didn't know me. I don't think it did permanent damage in either case, but I won't dance with either of those people again.

I never did date, or fuck, casually. I came of age, during the AIDS crisis in the '80s. When the meta message from the government and advertising and the news was that sex was so dangerous it could kill you. So you better be sure you can trust your partner and you better protect yourself as best as you can.

And now that we have had a global pandemic of massive scale, I don't even feel that I can kiss people casually. unless I know somebody well enough that I won't give offense by asking if they've tested recently?

I lived with such a profound fear in my early dating life. Not just because of AIDS or other STDs, but because the culture was steeped in fictional characters of disposable women. And I didn't realize it at the time. It's only in looking back that I can see how the chronic condition of fear was fertilized with art with rapey motifs, undergrads who are treated like interchangeable pieces of meat, and it's treated like cause for humor. I rewatched one of those John Hughes movies last year and I couldn't believe how shitty all the women characters were treated. (Not even to get into some of the horrible racist stereotypes)

You know I should probably talk to a therapist about this. And makes it hard to have relationships and to make new friends when I truck this around with me.

Intimacy, huh? This is intimacy, this right here. This is honesty, and trust. And it's because I've cultivated my circle here on Tumblr out of decent people, and people who share my values. I have a reasonably high level of confidence that nobody is going to be mierda on my post. Because I remove those people as I find them.

Anyway, well, thanks for listening. I had a tangle in here *thumps sternum gently* and it's better now.

#izzy writes #my words #intimacy #writing prompts #writing is better than therapy #okay fair I do need therapy #trust and honesty #getting it all out #personal

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taramemberence · 1 year

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The Heart Line - COC 2022

"I kept insisting that I wasn't insane. Baz said I'm not insane."

Read chapter fourteen here

#heavy chapter today #this seems to be a running theme whenever i start to project onto characters #writing is better than therapy #i'm kidding #therapy is good #but writing can be therapeutic as well #anyways #tomorrow is less heavy but you have to wait to read it #simon snow #baz pitch #snowbaz #coc 2022 #carry on countdown

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idliketobeatree · 3 months

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#exposing myself here #do i mean writing or reading?#both.#btw i am in no way discrediting actual therapy if you can afford it i am begging you to go #i'm currently waiting for the state-paid one and in the meantime we cope #also sorry for the shit quality i did this on my phone and didn't expect more than 10 notes tbh i should've known better #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #staged #david tennant #michael sheen #good omens fanfic #good omens fandom #good omens fanfiction #good omens memes #good omens shitpost #ineffable fandom

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mortysmith · 5 months

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In theory i like the idea that rick is growing and developing as a person. In practice it ends up falling short though, because no one balances him out. rick is getting better while no one else is getting worse, and it causes the whole thing to end up feeling a bit stale. The biggest draw, at least for me, has always been rick and morty's shitty dynamic, but it barely exists anymore because rick has been so watered down.

The ideal solution is literally just to make morty into a bigger asshole. Essentially flipping the main characters' personalities would offer a wide variety of conflict into the show, and would also help keep it "fresh".

Instead it feels the writers are pretending that they can't possibly do anything with morty's character, that they have to keep him the same anxious idiot he was in season one. I've said this before, but it's incredibly frustrating to watch the show have no problem with expanding rick's character while struggling with keeping morty's heavily stagnated characterization consistent. Where rick has space to develop between multiple seasons, morty is constantly forced into one of two boxes (smart/stupid) depending on the episode.

#rick and morty #again i dont hate ricks therapy arc i just hate that morty doesnt have a parallel AntiTherapy arc #not to mention how. even if morty IS more bitter it usually only lasts for like an episode #there is no smooth progression or development. the show is just ping ponging between him being an idiot vs him being capable #this is why im sooooooososososo badly hoping the roy machine comes into play again.#otherwise this is genuinely offensive treatment of a main character #genuinely at the moment i feel like fandom understands morty better than the writers.#this is a half vent post to be honest im just so tired of the rick bias within the staff. Like make. a new show at this point #i also have thoughts on the way rick has been written these past few seasons and um .#well it feels lile fans are in the writers room and im afraid this is a negative. it sort of seems like the show is trying to-#sweep ricks past actions and behaviors under the rug #as if he isnt literally the worst person ever. up until recently i guess.#like its just frustrating seeing mortys abuse being handled so haphazardly? like the s5 2 crows episode #it just feels like the writers are trying to fill out a checklist instead of writing them as people.#“what we had was abusive dont you see?” who talks like this #okay im over it(lying)#rick sanchez #morty smith

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melobin · 19 days

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i do believe you all followed me because of writing sorry you have to deal with the deeply mentally ill girl that comes with it.. slight rant in tags ? i guess ? ily all anyhow

#this year has been so horrible LMAO #every other week something new is popping up #like i thought it couldn’t get worse and then it does #idk how i’m coping (im not)!!#but i really wanna be here and be able to post and write and give you all the good content you followed for but i do genuinely feel like #i’ve been lacking a lot lately and i’m sorry for that #i’m talking to my doctor about upping my meds and going back to therapy #and just trying to do things to make me feel better rather than offing myself #melo will be okay i’m sure of it but im trying my hardest i promise #✧ melody posts

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prince-of-goths · 3 months

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bitches be like 'uhm, men aren't policed for their feelings' and then belittle them for their feelings and whine about men opening up to them

#you can just say you're overwhelmed. ok. that's valid. you don't need this bs.#keep the venting in the therapy because that vile shit really shouldn't be immortalized #male loneliness #not everyone is your ex #grass is always greener it isn't rosy here either #stop fighting #feminism #radical feminism #you are no better than the alleged misogynists you complain about #you too are repaying your bitterness into the world and refusing to take responsibility for the cruelty you utter #writing essays in the tags #also sort of a vent. lmao.#just because he wants sex doesn't mean he doesn't view you as a person or want genuine human connection #oh? you're “not his therapist”? well he's not yours either but you still expect him to listen and treat you like a human.#my god they've put a paywall behind human connection now too #you're right. women aren't responsible for men's problems #but you are

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pencilofawesomeness · 10 months

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Erza gripped the scepter hard enough to make her metal gloves creak. However, neither the hum of the magestone nor the act of using her strength to the fullest could placate her, and neither could it solve this matter.

“Jellal,” she said—slowly, carefully. Erza was positioned between him and the mirror, and she trusted her reflexes, but she still couldn’t help but to doubt her ability to stop him from escaping. Or, rather, from throwing his life away. “Let’s talk this through.”

Jellal chuckled dryly, without mirth. The bags under his eyes appeared darker in the light of the dorm courtyard. “There’s nothing to talk about. We both know that the Arcane Response Unit won’t be persuaded. I’m going.”

“The Headmage is speaking to them now. This is all just a misunderstanding. We’ll work this out.”

Erza absolutely hated not being able to do more. Her respect for the ARU and the role they played in this world absolutely did not diminish that this whole situation was bullshit and Jellal was being wrongly scapegoated. It was unjust and plain wrong. If Erza thought that marching up to the captain (a second time) and demanding this bogus investigation to be dropped would work, then she would have done it in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, even she knew that this could not be solved with violence—or with caving in. They had to stand their ground and play this right, and that meant keeping her dorm here while the Headmage worked her wits and magic.

Surely, everyone else would see the reason she clearly saw—even when Jellal himself doubted it.

Jellal was only eight when he came to the Queendom of Roses. Only eight when they met. He was a shy and awkward child, and he refused to talk about where he came from. That was alright though, because even Erza knew that it was sad. That was why he had been sent to Grandpa Rob. Erza had just been thrilled for another fae child to join Rob’s home for orphans, because it had meant that there was at least one other kid she could play with without fearing their fragility.

He was her best friend, and he was a good man. Erza wouldn’t have made him her vice housewarden otherwise. Jellal helped people and he was kind and he was careful and conscious of those around him, and he sought peace and balance above all else. And people seriously thought Jellal, as a child no less, was somehow responsible for an attempt to overthrow the Kingdom of Heroes’ royal family. It was utterly absurd.

It was even more absurd that Jellal was willing to accept it.

“Erza, I have to go. I— I did do those things. I can’t continue to ignore it.”

He might have succeeded in making that declaration cold, but the crack in his voice belied his fear. Erza’s determination settled. She swore to protect the people of Heartslaybul, and to lead them down a victorious path. She would even protect them from themselves.

“I am the Queen here,” she declared, throat tight. “My word is law. And I say you stay.”

Jellal shifted into a ready position—to fight, to flee. The movement alone cut her to her core. “Erza, I’m not who you think I am. I’m not worth it.”

Her heart cracked. She wondered if the Queen of Hearts ever felt this pain, her desire to protect her people a visceral and painful thing. Maybe that was why she sometimes appeared so violent in history—because she, too, swore to protect her loved ones from anything.

The past few weeks she had had to watch Jellal suffer under this weight. She watched him try to convince her that he wasn’t who she knew he was. It hurt to even consider. It hurt worse that he thought so little of himself, and little of her for not believing that she would trust him.

Erza would not be easily swayed. Not even by him. She reached into her Inventory and she grabbed a long, weighty lance.

“You don’t get to decide that.”

Jellal lunged. His magic mastery was always an impressive thing, and he could boost his very movement. However, her reflexes were not to be trifled with either—and, she had planned for this. She knew him well, after all.

“Now!” she shouted, and a flurry happened all at once.

Erza employed Jellal’s own trick, hastening herself to meet his path and bodily block him with her lance. Behind her, several magic barriers were erected around the mirror, and Erza quickly added her own, for good measure.

A vine wrapped around Jellal’s ankle, yanking him backwards and straight into Elfman’s bear-hold.

The plan quickly fell apart though. With a potent burst of magic, Jellal ripped himself out of the hold. He levitated Elfman with ease and tossed him straight into Droy.

“JELLAL!”

Mirajane appeared in a fury, floating above him. Erza spotted the flash of guilt across his features right as the junior batted him downward with ice magic.

“Stand down,” Erza ordered, a little desperate.

But Jellal had his own share of determination, evident in the sweat gleaming on his too-pale face. “Don’t fight me on this.”

“Too late, man.” Jet, the only one arguably faster than Jellal thanks to his Unique Magic, swept Jellal off his feet right as he tried to get up.

Mirajane met her eyes, and reluctantly, Erza nodded.

“Soulbinder,” Mirajane chanted, and in seconds her UM manifested around Jellal, the dark tendrils physically rooting him to the ground and eating at his magic. It was a violent restraint, but it worked. Erza knew that any less Jellal would fight through. Not that he wasn’t making an attempt now.

“Please,” she practically begged. “Don’t throw yourself away.”

Jellal tugged at the spell, a heaving breath making his exhaustion known. “You think I want to?” he whispered.

In the silence that followed, the soft admission might as well have been a shout.

“Do you think I want to go? To admit that any of that stuff happened? To— to accept the role I played?”

Erza swallowed. There was something dangerously shaky about his countenance. The strain in his voice was brittle, and her instincts whispered that something was about to snap. The air grew thick with that anticipation. “Jellal…”

“NO!” His shout was raw and hoarse, full of tears and anger and everything, that it startled Erza into silence.

“I never wanted this! But I can’t change what happened. No amount of hoping and pretending will ever change it!”

The atmosphere shook. An ugly sort of magic began to fill the air. Erza realized it too late, when Jellal’s tears mixed with his sweat and turned black.

“It will never change that I was her pawn!”

#fairy tail x twisted wonderland #crossover au #jellal fernandes #erza scarlet #overblot #i lied to myself I wrote things #overblotters get little mini fics now they are special I guess #guys lemme tell you Jellal and Mystogan ran away with this story it is intense #i don't actually plan on writing more than random snippets but whoo boy #i would be tempted to do more #also designing phantoms is weird but fun #those manifestations of fear and expectations and being #this scenario definitely ends with a good cathartic breakdown from jellal #dude needs therapy #I'll find a better way to unload this backstory without spoiling my Greater Headcanons one day #until then ten guesses XD

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disaster-catalyst · 1 year

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another dp x dc prompt that will not leave my brain unless I write it down :

tim drake in a desperate attempt to save/revive a loved one (can be batman, superboy, or whoever else) turns to the ghost king for help

danny, meanwhile, already have been warned by clockwork to not meddle with this particular timeline decides instead to help in some other means

#a monster calls #this is very much based from that one dialogue from #tim drake : i called you it was to save her it was to heal her!#danny : i did not come to heal her #tim : yes you did!#danny : i came to heal you!#dp x dc #help in other ways can mean literally anything #but for me I'm imagining gk!danny taking one look at this very depressed and on the brink of snapping teen and thinking :#he needs someone right now #danny would've suggested therapy but from his own experiences he knows that teen vigilantes very much hate that idea thank you #also just me remembering that time where tim tried his hardest to prove batman was alive and literally no one helped him #my boy was all alone during that arc :(( he needs someone and who better than the newly summoned ghost king #could be braindead shipping #braindead shipping #braindead #dp x dc prompt #writing prompts #danny phantom #ghost king danny #tim drake

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love-has-a-way-ofgrowingbackward · 3 months

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everytime i take a tiny triangle out of the cake i made my brother comes in and cuts off a trapezium, making the cut a single clean line. it would be vaguely funny but like i made the thing and like could he not eat it all without leaving some for me

#rant #i guess #it really fucking annoys me how i have to cut off my share in everything that comes in this house ever #like always stay on alert for your food and stash away your share or its gonna be gone by morning #i dont even know why its making me frustrated enough to cry #its just. nice good food has always been a treat and motivator for me and my brother has a habit of always grabbing my share too #it sounds so silly out of context but like. ive had a lifetime of going through a bad tiring day with nothing to look forward to but #a nap and something i like to eat. and always opening the fridge to an empty container #or worse the box is there but then i get in bed with a book and open the damn thing to find half a spoonful inside.#it would be annoying once or twice but its just. all the fucking time.#i hate this survivalistic shit #its not long before i move out thank god but still #he always did it when i was young and my mom hardly ever said anything #like now if i want i can get myself some treats but when i was younger i didnt have much choice.#i havent had the time to bake in two years and prep plus baking the layer cake took two days. i put so much work in it.#and he ate half of it by the time i came back from fucking peeing. i cant even say anything because he gets fucking angry and aggressive #at the drop of a hat so im. crying in my room about it. look my feelings are not as drownable and consuming now. i generally dont #let things like that affect me too much. but i feel so young again and like the entire world is so unfair. i don't know #writing my feelings out on a tumblr blog is so much better than journalling they should recommend this shit in therapy

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yellobb · 5 months

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Ended up calling 988 last night. Talked with them for half an hour and it kind of helped, but only temporarily.

I’m still kicking, but barely. I know I need to take my medication but I don’t care enough to. It’s just not worth the effort, even though it’s within arms reach.

I missed a meeting with my manager at work. Today is one of the few days I need to be in person and I’m not there because I just…. Can’t make myself move.

I want to call someone and just have them talk to me because I don’t think I can speak. I want someone to force me to take my meds and go sit outside for a moment so that I can get the fresh air and stop rotting in my bed. Maybe that would be enough to force me to get dressed and go to work. Maybe it would heal me, just a little bit.

But I don’t have anyone I can call. My sister is in class. My mom is at work and I know she’d start watching me more closely again. My grandma has already probably noticed that my location hasn’t changed, but it would just be easier to lie to her and say I worked from home today than deal with the lecture. I haven’t actually talked to any of my friends, irl or online, in ages, either. Not in the way friends should, because I’m too self-absorbed to check in with the people I love.

I’m sorry y’all have to keep seeing me post about my bullshit. I know it’s selfish, especially when I haven’t reached out to anyone one-on-one in so long. I haven’t even made anything since inktober ended, so I can’t even offer something vaguely worthwhile.

I know people care, logically. But emotionally it feels like no one does. And I’d deserve it if no one did. I’ve been a leech for years. Even before the depression, I was too busy to be a good friend. I’ve been selfish for years. I think the only time I was worth something was back when I was in early elementary school. At least back then I was happy and energetic and earnest and kind.

I don’t know where that version of Macey went. I wish y’all had gotten to meet her, because she’s the version of me y’all actually deserve. Not this absolute wreck I’ve become.

#m rambles #tw suicidal thoughts #long post #my therapy appointment is next week #I just need to make it that long #but I don’t know if it’s worth it #I have so much to live for #but I don’t feel like I deserve it #I want to live to cuddle with my pets at home #I want to see good omens season 3 #I want to go to the beach with my family and soak up the sun #I want to float in a pool and just feel the water against my skin #I want to see my sister grow up and get married and become the amazing woman I know she’ll be #but I don’t want any of it bad enough #and I know that my family would be devastated if I were to go #but I can’t make myself understand that emotionally #and lately it’s felt like it would be better that they have to go through that pain #than have to continue dealing with me #I don’t know #maybe if I write about Simon or Crowley having these same thoughts I’ll get the response I need #all I’m good for is making shitty fanfic and fanart anyway

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labelleizzy · 1 month

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I'd like to request the last shame filled splinter of memory for WIP Wednesday please

Turns out this was a poem I wrote and spoke at the Burning Man open mic six years ago, and it's as finished as it's going to get. Thanks so much for asking, @auburnlaughter

LOCATION: in my head

MUSIC: unstoppable force by the doubleclicks

the last shame filled splinter of memory (3:00)

they say you are only as sick as your secrets

that shame is the feeling that THOSE secrets of yours, are too sick to tell.

well

today i told the last secret

i told the one single story i have never told anyone

my therapist knows i am a writer - a storyteller.

(something that Elizabeth Bear says, about being a writer,

"I tell lies to strangers for money")

but my stories have always been grains of truth with a glamour cast upon them

I went in to therapy today meaning to talk about that last splinter of shame.

nervously, i laughed about it when i arrived

and i told her, when my laughing was done, that I didn't know where to start.

She told me: Think of this story as a book with several chapters. Each chapter can have a title, if you want it to, and you can tell me in the third person.

So I told her a five chapter story, about "the girl who" had lived this story.

it helped. it helped a lot, being able to distance myself and also to put the event in the *context* of my life.

It wasn't just one moment that was the splinter of me doing something I have been ashamed of. It was the forest in which the wood grew, from which I received the splinters.

It was considering the process in which I have spent twenty years and more with therapy, reflection, writing, and ritual, all about removing a variety of splinters, and the other injuries and accidents I've acquired along the way.

(i got to share something beautiful that i believe, too... when i was a child with no friends, i would cry in the light of the moon, on the front porch. there was nobody else i could cry on. but the light of the moon would comfort me, fill me in quiet ways. the moon was my friend, so much bigger than me, and eternal, i knew it could take my little human grief and pain and hold them for me until i could hold them myself.

now as an adult i still sit under the moon's light, and i throw all my love and gratitude and thanks at the moon, thinking of my childself, that somehow, through a loop in time and memory, that I had my own support, from down the line, that surviving and thriving later in my life was something i could imagine even when my life was shitty. thank gods large and little for my vivid imagination.)

I am a story in progress. I struggle.

i can now see, at 48, how that story-splinter made me Do Better in some ways, and kept me away from connecting with people in others.

I am so glad /i am going tonight,/ to the class i have which is the closest thing i have to church now.

oh my heart. my heart needs my community and the movement by which i let out the unspeakable.

...i left it in the room. i took the splinter out and i left it, and she can compost it. because that's what a good confession will do. that's what a good confessor or therapist will help you do.

i have context. and i have a clean place that has been dirty my whole life and i have sadness about that shame and feeling dirty, but maybe now i can finally let it GO.

Read time: 3:00

x-posted from Dreamwidth. You can leave comments here or there. =)

TAGS: aging gracefully (not!), childhood, dancing, learning, life is good, pain, shame, storytelling, therapy is also good, writing is better than therapy

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waydownatthebottomofnovember · 2 months

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what a year this February has been

#when i started writing my fanfic last year i was like this is better than therapy!#but now i've finished writing it and it turns out it hasn't fixed me?? outrageous tbh

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plusvanity · 9 months

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How to distract him from spilling blood and cheer him up better than asking him to come church-burning with you??

#the man who loved the corpse #this is better than therapy #having fun writing fanfics rn #my ramblings

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irisandthegayestpotatoes · 13 days

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guys, i know a lot of y'all won't care but i do so

TAYLOR SWIFT'S NEW ALBUM IS OUT IN FIVE DAYS

akjshlidshaid

this was a psa that will be all for today

thank you

#i'm sorry idk how to blog #i know her personality may or may not be shit but her music is actually better than therapy so whatever #i'm also currently writing this on a laptop which is halfway covered in black vertical lines so i'm gonna have to get it fixed

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lucalicatteart · 1 year

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Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 11: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

Yesterday's poll decided that The Adventurer should curiously socialize with a few of the boat travelers ...

"The Adventurer grabs one of the ornate glass bowls near the buffet table, meekly gathering some cheese and vegetables as he scans the crowd. For the first 15 minutes of the lunch, he mostly crouches in a corner seat, nibbling on his food and nervously fielding the occasional drunken question from a passing party guest..

Knowing he should.. probably... actually socialize at some point, he begrudgingly chooses conversational partners, squeezing his eyes shut and pointing around randomly until he lands on someone.....

The first is a scrawny man in a flashy suit, wobbly from wine but still keeping a vaguely charming demeanor about him. He proudly introduces himself as a "legal expert", then goes on to ramble for a while about the laws in the area, how drastically they vary from city to city (plus a few veiled hints on how to safely break them), and that if you travel a lot it can be hard to keep up with it all.

He mentions, quite conveniently, that he's recently published a book on the topic, a legal guide for local explorers, and offers to give The Adventurer a copy for a special discounted price... but... then soon recalls that the crate of books he'd planned to sell on the boat sadly ended up falling into the river earlier during a "silly little mishap"..

In place of a book, he simply slides The Adventurer a glossy mint colored paper swirled with golden floral motifs, supposedly serving as some sort of business card, though the actual contact information seems obscured beneath the cluttered design. The Lawyer also pulls off his scarf as he rises to leave, wrapping it around The Adventurer's shoulders with a little waving flourish (not the first time someone has confused his anxious shaking for cold shivers). The Adventurer stutters out a confused thank you, then watches as the Lawyer stumbles off, mumbling to himself that he's been drinking too much and "truly must find somewhere to piss"......

The second person he approaches is an older woman, hunched over a table fidgeting with a handful of colorful glass dice, spinning and stacking and arranging them into patterns whilst her thoughts drift elsewhere. Initially, she gives evasive answers when asked personal questions, but soon grows more talkative once the topic of local flora and fauna arises. She apparently used to adventure as well, roaming the lands to document various elements of nature relevant to her mysterious "private research" - though, at her age, she's now resigned to casual boat rides rather than riskily hiking alone through uncharted wilderness. Gently laying a worn leather journal of watercolor paintings out onto the tabletop, she points at various berries, leaves, and animals, eagerly describing their significance...

After chatting for a while, she abruptly changes topics, mentioning that sometimes she can "sense things which she should not" (whatever the hell that means), then asks him to pick one of her dice. He hesitates, but she just stares, refusing to elaborate further.. Finding even 30 seconds of awkward silent eye contact physically impossible to bear, he hurriedly plops a finger down in front of an iridescent yellow die. She chuckles..

Scooping up all of the dice from the table, she rattles them in her clasped hands, then brings them up to her ear as if to listen... to something?? A few moments later, she turns back to him, speaking in a raspy whisper: "There are others, melding your footprints with their own, seeking a gift you do not yet know - this is what I see."

Before he can ask her for any elaboration, the Captain returns, grumbling that The Adventurer has already stayed 5 minutes past the time limit and swatting at him with a broom to shoo him off of the boat. Apparently an hour can go by fast....

After climbing back into his dinky raft, he sails mostly successfully down the river, finally making it to a point that, at least based on his map, SHOULD be where the main road picks back up past the detour. He crashes into a small grouping of rocks whilst trying to navigate back to the shore, but he was planning on disassembling the raft to get his rope and supplies back anyway, so.. aside from a scraped knee and possibly broken pinky toe, he decides it's actually fine. The cat is okay, which is all that really matters, anyhow.

By the time he's taken apart his boat, eaten a quick meal, and bandaged his leg, the sun seems to have nearly set. It's later in the night than he'd usually like to travel, but, where he's going is a pretty commonly used road, so maybe it's safe? He's exhausted from socializing, but could probably muster enough energy to walk for at least a while. Or perhaps he should just call it a night and find a place to sleep.. But.. where??? What should he do?

Additional information

acquired a long, warm, expensive scarf

acquired slightly increased knowledge of local plants

acquired vague information from the 'dice based fortune teller', or whatever that was meant to be

acquired a business card (+ ability to get away with one minor crime free of legal consequence)

acquired mild nausea for the next 5hrs from weird buffet cheese

acquired badly scraped knee and sprained toe (will walk slightly slower for the next 2 days)

the adventurer's current main goal: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has

#paventure posting #polls #choose your own adventure #okay yeahgh this one took like a week instead of a few days lol #I've went back to physical therapy for my chronic chest muscle issue and I think one of the new excercises they gave me in the #appointment ended up really irritating something instead of helping it because I was having way worse and sharper #chest pain for a few days. I went to the doctor and got an ekg just to rule out anything bad like that because I seriously #thought something was wrong but.. apparently it's just the same thing as always. It feels a bit better now #and hopefully wont get bad again if I ease into the excercises more. but for a few days I really didn't want to use my arms at all #so that means like.. not drawing or typing. also when I feel bad I kind of stray away from social media? I know for some peopls #social media is a good distraction when they're sick or whatever but I just find it stressful. I usually just lay on the floor #for a few days with silly cooking shows or Carefully Curated Youtube Videos That Specifically Contain Absolutley Zero Possibility #Of Stressful content Whatsoever on in the background lol.. ANYWAY.#I am at the moment able to use the computer again so I could draw things. hopefully will get on better schedules again one day #anyway!!... HE!!! adventure man... Again I hate trying to shorten things by just describing the conversations without dialogue #like saying “they talked about trees” rather than literally writing out a transcript of the entire conversation they had about trees #etc. I think because most of the time when I write it's in a very dialogue heavy context (like script type things. or visual novels/games #where lots of characters are talking and it's mostly that. etc.) So it feels awkward and bad to just skip over things #But also these would take days and days and days to do if I wrote out pages of conversation so I'm just doing vaguely rushed shortcut writi #writing trying to include only details that are necessary or etc. but ggbhjbhj... it's just so opposite to what I usually like #I always walk away like 'FINE.. i GUESS.. that will have to do >:T' lol #Kind of like how I hate literally every bit of digital art I have ever done because I'm so used to traditional art - specifically pencil #and pen stuff that's very sketchy and messy - and then digital art is all about clean even neat lines with a line tool and very polished #clean coloring - so it's super super opposite to my usual sketchy things and just Feels Wrong. I kind of like ms paint because it feels #like a middle ground like. it's somehow also sketchy even though it's digital. multiple pixelly lines over each other give it a 'sketch'#type feel. BUt anyway. It's supposed to be casual and quick and fun! I will choose to ignore all art and writing errors because #it is all about having a little advenchure! :3 As long as the main idea is clear enough for the voting to make sense . who cares #Remember to keep him safe! the dice lady is trying to help him. Regardless of where he sleeps though he can probably use the scarf #as a new warm blanket addition to his existing meager bedding situation lol. soft. fluffy. the cat will love it probably #Also again. whenever he talks to people the text will be longer. Sorry. Still trying for most of them to be short blurbs lol

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