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[ghostlocked]

[It's late when Harlan folds and decides to go to the network for a distraction. He would vastly prefer not to do this, but, well. That's why it's called folding.]

cant sleep.
tell me stories.

[ooc: feel free to threadjack and use this as a sort of storytelling free-for-all!]

Comments

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[toiletseat_girl]

What kinds of stories?
'Cause I have some doozies from my time as a Reaper.

[myrealname]

[time for a lie]

Once there was a girl named Alice.
She always wanted to go to London and see Windsor Palace.
She finally saved up enough money to go and it was even better than she'd imagined.

[ghostlocked]

lol i bet u do.
idc. anything.
obvs not somethin boring tho.
ur free to submit multiple entries to the hh story contest.
wait dont tell me anything sad either. thats what were trying to avoid here.

[ghostlocked]

whyd she want to go there?
idk what windsor palace is. sounds ritzy.

[toiletseat_girl]

That makes it harder.
Death is always sad to someone.
But there was this guy who died after he got hit in the head by a kayak.
Because we didn't get to the soul in time, his face was all mushed in on one side.
He asked us to write his sister and tell her that Jesus said he was okay.
So I did.

[myrealname]

It's where the queen of England lives.
It's very ritzy.
The oldest and largest palace in England.

[ghostlocked]

us? were u workin w. someone?
and what do u mean bc u didnt get there in time? do souls like expire or smthn?

[ghostlocked]

hm. ig thats cool.
so she just wanted to chill w. the queen?

[toiletseat_girl]

Yeah. Betty. [too bad you can't send sadness through a text]
No, but if we don't get the soul before they die, the spirit's body has their death wounds.
It's fucked up.

[myrealname]

More like, she wanted to see the castle and imagine living there.

[64th]

True stories or made up stories?

[ghostlocked]

true stories are better but im not picky.

[ghostlocked]

y?

[ghostlocked]

whos betty?
hm. ig typically that wouldnt be too bad but i bet thatd lead to some gross lookin ghosts.
so is that guy just doomed to have a mushed in face for all eternity?

[64th]

Do you like sad stories or are you a big baby?

[toiletseat_girl]

It did.
Who knows? We can't go to the afterlife and find out.

[and there's a long pause]

Betty was a friend.

[myrealname]

[and now a truth]

Because she grew up in a real shithole.

[ghostlocked]

[Sad stories are the last thing he needs right now, but with that challenge leveled... He's embarrassed enough about going public like this.]

hit me.

[ghostlocked]

tell me abt her.

[But, because he senses this is a sore subject:]

or dont and ill tell u abt the time we got kidnapped by a demon.

[ghostlocked]

lol. fair.
what made the palace better than she was expecting? seems like she was already shootin for the stars if it was her endgame.

[toiletseat_girl]

[there's another pause]

How about both stories?
You go first.

[myrealname]

Everything was cleaner.
Brighter.
More beautiful.
But it was still someone's home.

[64th]

[ sometimes you just wanna be a dick and make other people bummed out. this is one of those times. ]

Before my great-grandparents were born, the world was in chaos. There were storms, and earthquakes, and floods. And there was war. Years passed and countries were destroyed, most of them flooded. From the destruction came my country, Panem. Things were hard, but they made due. Still, people were unhappy and angry. They made a plan to overthrow the government. There was a war.

Have you ever been through a civil war?

[unnature]

what, you get sleep stolen from you?

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[so_dark_a_road]

Would stories from childhood be all right?

My brother Tyelko and I once stole a god's magic hunting horn. Not gods as in Hadriel gods, but gods as in angelic powers who genuinely do try to take care of their responsibilities. They called themselves the Valar, which means Powers of the World. This one's name was Oromë, and he was the Vala of the Hunt. They each had a specialty.

The reason we wanted that horn was because we were going up into the mountains to hunt unicorn. Needless to say, we hadn't told our parents we were going. Unicorns are dangerous.

The bloody horn was a pain in the ass, if I may say so. We lifted it off the wall, and it started to scold and lecture us immediately, and we barely got out of the window we had climbed into in order to steal the horn from the Vala's study. "Shut your trap!" we said, and we stuffed it into a pllowcase and ran like hell.

Does this sound like the kind of story you'd be interested in?