The Evening PokeNews

I submitted a bio for an application to have my poetry looked at and I decided on this:

Tamara is a queer female poet, musician, and actress from PA. She is also a Taurus, but isn’t quite as happy about it as the other things. She once climbed out a window to avoid small talk.

My tl is really dead rn so if ur a writeblr who writes fantasy, urban fantasy, anything with kings and queens and lots of fighting and shit (doesn’t have to have all of these elements …btw!)

That’s my jam, reblog so i can follow u and check ur rlly cool shit out

Day 5 - Husky / Enchanted

Couldn’t help but notice that some of the prompts could do with a little overlap. So to make things a little easier on myself, I fused some concepts together. Should be interesting from here on out. Wish me luck.

...

Mal Mute, a Husky Kaiju famous for his wicked fighting style, pushed the door of the locker room open and tumbled inside. He ripped off this muzzle-mask and heaved heavily. His lips trembled, fangs dripping with saliva, muscles clenched and his body quaked. He dropped to his knees and clutched his head. Fighting to get control of his heart and his breathing, he curled into a ball on the locker room floor. The collar around his neck was glowing an ominous red light, radiating heat and digging into his furred neck. He gasped for air, fighting to get under control, fighting against a darker desire.

The locker room door pushed open. A looming figure in a long, dark cloke, stepped into the locker room and presided over the scene. He looked down the bridge of his beak, the master of the Dark Arts, Psychopomp. He tapped his crooked staff on the linoleum floor. Mal Mute brought a blood-shot eye up to him and a sweeping, clawed hand lashed out at him. Psychopomp didn’t flinch as the raking claw missed his face by mere inches.

“Good to see you again, too,” The Raven Kaiju said. “And how have you been?”

Recoiling his strike, Mal Mute shrank back against a locker. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated, his color was white hot. His voice eeked out in choked whining.

“Okay,” Psychopomp said, “Let’s try this again.”

He tapped his staff on the ground again. The crystal at the top radiated a black energy that released a purple vapor. Snaking through it air, is slithered over to Mal Mute’s collar and encircled it. The blazing accessory began to cool, falling limp as if it had lost some kind of manic power it once held.

Mal Mute slumped against the lockers, dropping his head to his chest and heaving a sigh of relief.

Psychopomp stayed a relatively safe distance away, but spoke up, “Feeling better?”

The wolf Kaiju Fighter continued to focus on breathing. But managed to clear his throat to respond. “Much better. Thank you, Psy.”

At this prompt, Psychopomp set his staff aside and went to Mal Mute’s side to help him to a bench. Once seated, Psychopomp pulled out a small bone-shaped treat. 

“Here, Mal Mute” He said, “Eat this. It should help.”

Mal Mute nodded and took the treat, scarfing it down. 

“You know,” He said, licking his fingers, “When I’m out of the ring, you can just call me ‘Buster’. Mal Mute is just the ring name.”

Psychopomp sighed, “I am well aware of your name, Mal Mute, it is more a matter of keeping this relationship professional. I am, for lack of a better term, your caretaker, as of now.” He glanced at the collar around Mal Mute’s neck. “You said you had it under control.”

Buster scratched at the collar around his neck. The source of his power and the reason he was a Kaiju in the first place. “I did.” He said, his voice meek, “But then the guy got a second wind. I had to raise the stakes to take him down.”

Psychopomp shook his head, “I warned you against using that...what did you call it?”

“Malignant Assault,” Mal Mute said.

“Right, that. I warned you against using it more than once. If you tap into that power too much you will lose yourself to it. I don’t have to remind you what happened last time.” Psychopomp put a hand on Mal Mute’s shoulder. “You have to accept your limits.”

Mal Mute nodded along, as he had always done before. But when the hand touched his shoulder, he felt something inside crack a little.

“No, I refuse.” He said, his voice was dark and sinister. “I refuse to accept limits.” He lifted his head to look at Psychopomp, his eyes getting red. “I promised him. I promised I would always be the strongest. That I wouldn’t lose to anyone!”

He stood up, at his full height, he managed to tower over the raven Kaiju. Psychopomp stood, unruffled, but he had picked up his staff and the purple vapor was already swirling around the crystal.

“It was the last thing I promised him before they came for him. He was not the best guy in the world, I knew that, but he fed me and gave me a home and a name. I will never forget his kindness, even if it means tearing everything apart!” He flexed his fist and slammed it against the lockers, causing them to warp considerably. 

“And then you killed him,” Psychopomp said. His voice was flat and cold. The purple smoke lashed around his body, ready to defend.

Mal Mute grit his teeth. “Yes, yes I did! He should have listened to me! He should have gotten behind me! There was no need for him to run onto the battlefield like that. He shouldn’t have tried to…” His voice cut out. Red eyes clouded with tears and words failed.

Buster dropped his head, “He shouldn’t have tried to save me.”

The collar around his neck radiated heat, but in a dull ache. He let the pain bring his mind away from painful memories.

“I know I am cursed,” Buster said, “But what am I supposed to do?’

Psychopomp let out a relieved sigh. “Not cursed, not necessarily.”

Mal Mute looked up, “What do you mean?”

Psychopomp stepped closer, but hesitated. “Do you mind if I touch the collar?”

Mal Mute shook his head and craned his neck to expose the pendant hanging from the collar. Psychopomp grabbed it and lifted it up. On the underside, there was an inscription. Part boiler plate, part eldritch magic.

“Your entire form runs on forbidden eldritch magic, yes,” Psychopomp said, he fished a small treat-shaped charm from his robe and snapped it onto the collar beside the pendant, “But with a few alterations, it can be honed.” 

The heat of the collar died down immediately. Mal Mute’s eyes went wide. As Psychopomp stepped away, he gingerly touched his collar.

“I...I don’t feel it anymore.” He looked at the raven Kaiju, “How did you do that?”

Psychopomp grinned, “Your caretaker happens to be the greatest master of the dark arts, a little eldritch enchantment was no match for me.”

Buster rushed forward and lifted Psychopomp in a bear hug. The raven Kaiju gasped for the breath that was being crushed out of his lungs.

“Holy tennis balls, Psy! This is the best thing ever!” He put the ruffled raven back down. “I don’t know how to repay you! I got some tickets to a big party coming up. Do you want to go? We could go together? You wanna go? You wanna go? You’re such a good boy! You wanna go?”

Psychopomp straightened himself out, “For a Fighter named ‘Mute’ you really prattle on.”

“Oh, that’s just the stage handle. You know, cause, a husky is like a malamute. But I’m a heel, a bad dog, so it’s a play on words. I thought it was really clever. And I get to wear a cool mask. But it is hard to breathe sometimes. Maybe I should get a new one?”

Psychopomp raised his hand, “Alright alright, easy there, Mal Mute.” He cleared his throat, “You have been given a new chance. I wanted you to step down, but it seems you are hellbent on staying in the ring.”

Mal Mute nodded intently. 

“Then the medallion should help you remain under control. But try to keep the Melodious Assaults to a minimum.” He said, tapping his staff to summon a swirl of purple mist.

“Malignant Assaults.” Mal Mute added, helpfully.

“Whatever.” Psychopomp said. “Oh, and yes, I will join you for the party. Send me an email, would you?” 

With that, the grand master of dark magic vanished from the locker room in a swirl of mystical purple haze. Mal Mute smiled and gave a thumbs up to no one. He would later pay a hefty fine for busting the lockers.

Fun fact: ‘Mind how you go’ is a Terry Pratchett reference. Not only his last book, The Shepherd’s Crown, has this dedication to one of the characters, it’s the Pratchett family’s mantra for safety:

Her [Rhianna Pratchett’s] parents were living in Wiltshire, while she was based in London but they saw a lot of each other and spoke constantly. “I’m always telling them I love them on the phone in a slightly silly way. We always say to each other, ‘Mind how you go’; it’s almost like a Pratchett mantra for safety.”

with Rhianna, the daughter of Terry Pratchett, saying this as her last words to her father and her grandfather.

“All that talk about the power of friendship,” the antagonist murmured, as they circled the protagonist. “And it never even occurred to you that perhaps your enemies might have friends too, did it? How arrogant a thing, you are…”

Day 3- We are tip-toing closer to Halloween and I got a case of the Morbs. I hope the quality is everything you have come to expect of me.

me, as a supervillain: we are not so different, you and I…

hero, struggling against their bonds: That’s not true! I’m nothing like you!

me, rolling out several whiteboards filled with diagrams and charts: No, it’s literary foiling. See? I’ve been very careful about this.

hero: Why? Why are you doing all this?

me, cackling: You fool! For thematic consistency, of course! Now prepare to metaphorically reconcile with your father figure!

After watching Sonicmega get rather salty at the Nickelodeon game Paw Patrol: On a Roll and quickly typing up a rather stern letter, I knew I had to try voicing it myself.

Give him a follow and help him on his journey to Partner!

transcript under the cut

I recently purchased a copy of Nickelodeon Paw Patrol: On a Roll! via the Nintendo eShop for exactly $20.00 USD. I cannot begin to describe to you how excited I was to play this game, given that I am an avid lover of canines and most animals in general - with the exception of slugs because a slug once got into our kitchen and left behind some of its slime, which my mother mistook for me spilling food (and subsequently spanked me for). On top of this, I know that Nickelodeon understands the importance of building positive, healthy relationships in children, including those of their beloved family pets. It goes without saying, then, that I was fully prepared to see my hard work rewarded in PAW PATROL: ON A ROLL via the ability to “pet the dogs” after a successful mission. IMAGINE MY SUBSEQUENT DISMAY, upon learning that not only do I never get the chance to pet the Good Boyes, the main character of the game doesn’t even take it upon himself to give them the attention and praise they deserve! How could a company like Nintendo let such an important, integral part of bonding with a dog be left unattended, much less permit a game that ignores the most enjoyable part of having a dog in front of you to be sold for TWENTY AMERICAN-BLOODED DOLLARS? I can’t even go out to a dog park because of this pandemic, and yet you have robbed me not only of my money, but also my chance to pet a dog in some form. I would like to formally request that you refund my purchase of PAW PATROL: On a Roll, and return my $20 back to me so that I may use it for other dog-related activities - such as hiring a dog groomer to Zoom me in to one of their next sessions, or buy myself accessories and pretend I am the dog (allowing me to thus pet myself through use of a psychological loophole). In either case, it will bring me closer to petting a dog than this game managed to. I thank you for understanding my plight in this time of great need.

Y'know, you could just make up accents in dnd. Tried to give ur character an Australian accent and failed? Well, there is no Australia in this fantasy universe, but there is conceivably a settlement of people who all speak in an accent which sounds, to our ears, like really bad Australian.

What I’m saying is just use the worst fuckong voices for all ur characters and if u get called out on then just say it’s how people talk in fricking green-mushrooms or wherever ur character comes from. Make your party suffer.

did anybody else have a moment as a kid/teen where you suddenly realized that you were more than likely never going to have one of those big adventures that you read abt in YA novels. and u were going to just have a normal life with normal problems, and got real sad. and even tho u now see value in a regular life, part of you still wants magic powers and a rag tag group of ride-or-die friends who are out to save the world