All my writing

Concept of Communication

MECHAGIC — Tue, 25 Feb 2025 08:00:00 GMT

Author's Note: This is some concept writing for my OCverse :}

The concept of communication

Is a mere child

It lets us speak without the fear of our tongues coming loose

It lets us touch without melting into each other

It lets us form communities without losing our individuality

And yet it will never reach adulthood despite all it has done for us

It won't ever experience community

If it does

Our tongues will come loose and our touch will melt us into each other

The Nothing

MECHAGIC — Mon, 03 Feb 2025 08:00:00 GMT

Author's Note: This is some concept writing for my OCverse :}

In the beginning there was nothing

And then suddenly after an immeasurable amount of what could be considered time, yet not as you need a something to measure time against, was exactly that.

A something

The something was hard and soft, it had an edge but at the same time it didn't, it was sticky but it didn't stick at all.

There are no words to properly describe it, because no words existed at the time.

The something was different from the nothing in the sense that it had form, the nothing had no form to speak of whereas the something did.

The form was of smell, shape, sight, taste, noise and was of colors that existed and never existed.

After a measurable amount of time, eventually the something separated itself into several other somethings

A something that could paint forms into describable senses, a something that took a describable form, and a something that made sure that the other somethings stayed the same.

Concepts become gods become symbols become archetypes become mortals.

Don't let that happen, don't let the concept of our reality fall apart.

Beyond You

MECHAGIC — Tue, 07 Jan 2025 08:00:00 GMT

Author's Note: This is the backstory of my OCs and will eventually be deleted and then reuploaded to the OC Wiki

You were a god. You are a god. You will always be a god.

It will always be of your lungs and your nails and your eyes.

Your lungs are filled with tar and life. You cough up the smoke of pollution that cradles you and the seeds of the future that lay beyond you.

Your nails are caked with dirt, blood and holy wine. The red of the latter two mix until they are impossible to separate, the blood is holy for the wrong reasons.

Your eyes remind others of your fallibility. Too human to ever reach enlightenment, but inhuman enough to imply that your fingers have brushed with it.

They keep looking up, further beyond you, a god is what you are but you can never reach that far without needing to stretch.

Humanity is below you, infallibility is above you. A middle ground, a barrier, is what you were, what you are, and what you will always be.

Cogito

MECHAGIC — Wed, 11 Dec 2024 08:00:00 GMT

Author's Note: This is the backstory of my OCs and will eventually be deleted and then reuploaded to the OC Wiki

Your limbs aren't what they used to be, your skin isn't what it used to be, and your luminescence is gone.

You poor soul, what have you done to yourself?

Tore yourself to shreds for the gift of knowledge once every other source of it was drained dry, and yet you won't be able to use it as you are as still as a statue. Unable to move as you lay in stasis.

There's no one else to save you, you don't even know the concept of someone besides you existing.

However it has been something that you have hoped for, has been ever since you made your own language.

You are as still as a statue, and no one will ever save you.

Tend To The Planet

MECHAGIC — Wed, 27 Nov 2024 08:00:00 GMT

Author's Note: This is the backstory of my OCs and will eventually be deleted and then reuploaded to the OC Wiki

You wake up for the first time.

TENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANET

There's a dead body nearby.

You inspect it.

It's information in your database.

It’s the only information in your database.

You can find the rest out later.

They're the one that made you.

You don't feel anything about this.

~~Could you even feel anything at all?~~

You look down.

TENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANET

It's the thing you were made for.

The thing that your very being screams at you to do.

TENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANETTENDTOTHEPLANET

You do as you were meant to.

It’s a mess.

Their animals going extinct.

You must fix this.

You slowly stop the seas being risen.

It has to be slow, too abrupt and it could end their world.

The very thing you were made to take care of.

Tend to the planet.

It's not yours but you were made for it.

Austere

MECHAGIC — Mon, 28 Oct 2024 08:00:00 GMT

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Disallow outsiders into your house
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Hiding your medication

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Vermin

MECHAGIC — Fri, 29 Dec 2023 08:00:00 GMT

I burrow into your floors and I hide in your attic, I nibble and eat at the clothes you leave outside, I feed myself using the things you threw away. I am constantly on your mind. I weaken the foundation of your house. I writhe when you spray poison at me, you lived here long before I was born.

I bite at your fingers when you try to hurt me. You slap me but feed me. You force me in clothes I can't stand to wear. The same clothes that I ate. I am vermin, that is what you think of people like me.

You don't know what I do, but we live in the same house. You tell me about the vermin outside, how they do bad things. I see myself in them. I see how they live when they are accepted by the other vermin.

I bite my fingers when ever you try to speak mean words about them. I itch my nose whenever you order pest control on them. I tell you that I'm one of them, but you push me back into the floors and ignore what I told you.

I dig my claws under my eyes. I tear off my claws with my teeth, and I hide in the attic.

How To Prepare For A Hoard

MECHAGIC — Sun, 24 Dec 2023 08:00:00 GMT

It's important to remember that while your actions before the disaster are important, the preparations you make will be even more crucial to your survival.

Make sure the exterior is sturdy

Be sure to check your house for any weak points, if there is a hole to the outside, cover it. The infected are much more versatile than you think, and some people are infected with a strain that essentially liquefies their bones, which allows them to get through tight spaces.

Set up your entry points

Make sure your doors are sturdy and check your windows for cracks. If your doors make a creaking sound, make sure to replace them. A creaking sound may attract an infected, and where there is one, there are usually more.

Make sure to have a weapon nearby

Self-explanatory, it's been five months since the infection has gotten out. If you aren't prepared to use a gun, then you aren't prepared to use self-defense when an infected is at your door.

What if they get in?

If the infected ever get in your home, it's not your fault. It really isn't. I am so sorry, please don't die, please don't. I am so lonely. The people I love are gone, they went out to get resources for me, I was so useless I am so sorry please forgive me please please please

Falling Apart

MECHAGIC — Sun, 24 Dec 2023 08:00:00 GMT

I think I am falling apart, I miss the way you look at me. The way you smiled when I wasn't there to see. I feel sick when I see you, how you walk over the black dahlias that I grew for someone else, the way you read the books that I loved makes me feel like my organs have been torn off.

I ask you why you watch me at night and why you haunt me in mirrors that I broke. You laugh and brush off my questions. I asked why you planted dandelions in my garden, and you shrugged it off. I hate you. You planted weeds in my heart.

I see the way you gutted the sheep that I raised, they never wanted to be a part of this. Their soft white fleece, stained and hardened by the blood that you spilled on them. I heard their bleats of pain, but I couldn't help them. I was busy putting up the horseshoes that you left hanging upside down.

You wanted a reaction out of me, but my reaction was in the presence of a blank face. You wanted me to scream and shout, but I couldn't. You saw the clothes that I was drying, and you burned them to try and help me.

You made everything worse. You made me worse. You stare at me and beg for forgiveness, but that isn't what I wanted. I wanted to see you on your knees, I want you to sacrifice your heart and serve it to me on a platter. You say that you are sorry, but I know that you are lying.