Category: Uncategorized

bakafox:

sunny-burn:

Texas Hill-Country Gothic

• Tiny family graveyards of half a dozen headstones, all but forgotten as they are reclaimed by cedar and oak.
• Rusted barbed wire, faded flags, slowly decaying fence-posts. The bones of cattle, half hidden by waving grasses, bleached by the sun. At least, you hope they’re cattle.
• Tiny ghost towns less than ten miles from sprawling cities, yet farther away than the moon.
• In Spring bluebonnets carpet the hillsides; you sit amongst them to have your picture taken, but faintly you hear whispers. The sun is warm, the breeze is gentle, you begin to feel sleepy…
• Remember the Alamo. Remember the Alamo. None of us can forget the Alamo. None of us can forget the Alamo, no matter how hard we try.
• Ghost lights flicker at the top of Enchanted Rock, Tonkawa warriors trying to find their way home.
• The Heart of Texas isn’t just a figure of speech. it exists, beating, in the hills. It exists, and it can be killed.
• Limestone caverns dripping with moisture, stretching below the earth, emitting cool air like the hissing breath of a great beast. It smells like sulfur.
• The stars at night are big and bright. Much too big, much too bright.
• A baptismal cut from the rock of the creek bed, once used by the congregation of a nearby church, now little more than crumbling stone. The creek is long dry. When you climb down the shallow steps and stand in the oblong depression, the birdsong turns to voices, hymns, praise to god, but not the god of Abraham. When you wake several hours later, there is something else behind your eyes. You are born again.
• No one would want to Keep Austin Weird if they knew how terribly, mind-bogglingly, horrifyingly weird it really is (it probably has something to do with the bats).

Having lived in the hill country.. some of these are so very legit. So verrry legit.

shithowdy:

• You’re miles from anything even resembling a road or what might have ever been used as a road, but somehow there’s the body of a 1937 Chevrolet truck rusting away out here.
• It’s 4:15 in the afternoon, and the daily midsummer rain is making its way through your town. You open your window to smell the creosote.
• Barbed wire fences, railroad tie benches, and abandoned tractors overtaken by brush beside rotting barns.
• Cookie-cutter faux-adobe suburbs. Their “lawns” are just basalt rocks. Cast iron Kokopellis and roadrunners and ristras are everywhere. A woman tends to her cactus-and-rock garden.
• There are junkyards everywhere. This entire state is a junkyard. Your neighbor down the street regularly raids them, and his front yard is covered in his “sculptures”.
• An Apache woman sells her beadwork on the roadside. Her daughter sits on the cash box, scrolling through tumblr on her phone.
• You drive by another “THE THING?” billboard on I-10.
• You pass through a small railroad town. The roads haven’t been maintained in decades and the windows of the buildings are smashed or haphazardly boarded up; you almost want to call it a ghost town until you notice the Conoco-slash-Dairy Queen is open.
• There’s also a rock shop. It sells rocks. You wonder how the competition is with the rock shop you saw a few miles back.
• Someone asks about aliens. Everyone rolls their eyes.
• That’s the fifth dead dog you’ve seen on this reservation’s roadside.
• The only thing to do in town is go to the pueblo ruins and museum. The gift shop has creaky floorboards and has the sour (but not unpleasant) smell of old wood and books. R. Carlos Nakai plays in the background.
• You finally go down that dirt road overgrown by mesquite. At the end is an abandoned shanty town. Nobody has been here in years, but you somehow feel unwelcome.

Outbreak has no rune cost just a cooldown.

No but he’s fully aware that he’s kinda a monster all the time anyway.

tevruden:

Because we all love inappropriate questions about our OCs.