… chariot’s cute because she’s not as put together as she likes pretending to be and she’s the one with the most responsibilities and she’s supposed to be the most ~adult~ and she can do most of it no problem but whenever something or someone does something she can’t handle she pretty much falls apart faltering from it like omfg
A rp based off of the danger days album from MCR though tbh it’s become our own universe and they should pay us for it.
It doesn’t have a major page that organizes everything and we all just kind of popped up and joined in.
It’s hard to explain how it happened but yeah.
Idk I’m really sleepy rn so answering this is hard.
we really should get paid tho, for real
also some of us are starting to cook up some slightly more organized resource pages like this one that we’re starting to collect some general headcanons and canon things on
i also started compiling a personal list of muns and their characters but it’s not near complete yet (still gotta contact some people and update shit for them) so i’m not linking that yeah
Uuugh I fucking love this, because its the same thing Hazel does but with the past. Instead of believing he’s currently an angel, he’ll be sure he was.
A random suggestion or thought will pop into his head, and because memory and imagined things are so closely related in the mind, and because of his confabulation, he can’t tell the difference. It becomes wholeheartedly real to him.
Unlike Red (sometimes), he doesn’t do it by choice. But like Red, he knows all but one of them have to be a lie. But since he can’t tell which one, he believes them all at the same time.
If Red were to tell him he’s the sun, Hazel might imagine scenarios where he remembers incidents where he was, which cement as actual memories. And totally believe him.
Hazel makes up the past, while Red makes up the present.
i hate you
[9:08:49 PM] -//RED: trails off thinking about kids missions…
[9:09:38 PM] Tai (Vico) Gordon: thinks about kids swarming a base…
[9:09:48 PM] -//RED: ooohhh do tell…
is2g over 50% of red’s beliefs aren’t even rigid in any way, they’re constantly fluctuating with his moods, like… i can barely call them beliefs, because they’re more of just these wild delusions he can cook up in a moment and believes wholeheartedly… or, rather, he acts like he believes them wholeheartedly, but half the time it’s like he knows he’s just making shit up, but because he’s saying it, that makes it the truth and that makes it real. he sort of… pretends he just has this ability to make fiction reality just by willing it so, sometimes.
i think he honestly just has a really wild imagination outside of his disorder shit, and… when he talks, or when he ‘preaches’, or whatever, he’s just describing what he’s seeing in his head, and what feels so real to him in that moment, and it seems so genuine because of it. and they never last because after a moment he’s already thinking about something else, and his beliefs flow into that next thought. it’s like he never got past this stage where pretending to be something in a game of make-believe stopped being an acceptable thing that you can just do. and that’s why he can just suddenly start claiming to be an angel, or that he’s the sun, or that he’s one of the stars that makes up the sky. because in that moment, in his head, he is, and he decided it’s true so it has to be. ghh
I have never felt so wretched—I really must have grown up too much. Earlier whenever you banished me I believed that we would meet again. Now I feel as if I’ve been completely torn away from life, as if there will never ever be anything else again. There is no life without you. I always said it, always knew it, now I feel it with my whole essence, everything, everything which I thought about with pleasure now has no value—it’s revolting.
I’m not threatening, I’m not exhorting forgiveness. […] I know that there is no promise you would believe in. I know that there is no way of seeing you, of being reconciled that would not be a torment to you. […] How terrible it is to part if you know that you are in love and that the parting is your own fault.
I’m sitting in a cafe and howling, the waitresses are laughing at me. It’s terrifying to think that all the rest of my life will be like this."
What am I but
a cripple infected with love.
A sort of empty vessel
you can fill with your shit.
I will not stop you.
What use are these insults?
I’m just a poem
I’m just a state of mind.