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Welcome to ENDLESS DIAMOND SKY! We are an animation personified site set both in the animated world and present day San Francisco. A terrible darkness is spreading through the animated realm, driving everyone from their homes and into unknown territory that we know as reality. Now they find themselves at a crossroads: do they fight for their world or do they turn their back on it and make San Francisco their home? What will you choose?

 setting 
san francisco, calif. 2018

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 CREEPSHOW., rosalind/forest
niels hrodric vukasin
 Posted: Jun 7 2017, 06:48 PM
  quote

on a moonless night i did meet a devil.

  sorcerer's apprentice
  animated original
  24 years old
  single af
  demisexual
  he/him
  allie (she/her)
 51 POSTS

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boy with the broken soul
lost in the pages of self made cages

Niels re-read the first line of this page for what had to be the third time, only to realize (for also the third time) that he had already read it. He’d read the entire page twice through, not really absorbing the information and utterly forgetting that he had by the time he reached the bottom. Some thought or other would always intrude and push out whatever else his brain was trying to compute and, try as he might, he could not bring himself to care. With a sigh, he turned to the next page without really understanding the text and proceeded from there with about the same amount of success. Which was to say, so little as to be none at all. His eyes kept raising to the mounted tv on the opposite wall surrounded by orange and black streamers that had definitely seen better days. Pictures on the screen flickered in black and white and Niels had long since come to know it as a moving film, a ‘movie’ in common jargon. Once he’d gotten past that it was science, not magic, that made such things possible, he’d liked them immensely when he’d first crossed the portal. The television was muted, the people on screen mouthing lines silently as the scene changed. He didn’t need to hear the actor’s to follow along; it was one of three movies that played in the museum at any given time.

‘Ambiance,’ he’d been told when he’d mistakenly asked what the point of playing silent films was. Truthfully, it had been sheer curiosity over the fact that had driven him to say anything about it at all when he’d first been hired but something in his tone must have offended the museum’s owner -- an eccentric balding man with a penchant for dress like a costume store sheik -- for the man had nearly shouted the word at him and left in a muttering huff not unlike a distressed hen.

In the years that Niels had been working at the museum, he’d only seen the man a handful of times and each time had been spent in agonizing, awkward silence. Apparently, he had yet to be forgiven for the slight. The museum manager had shown him where the equipment for the tv was hidden his first night watching the museum but by the time he’d figured out how to use any of it, Niels had grown so accustomed to the films that played on the endless loop that he had never bothered changing them for his own entertainment in the long hours he spent by himself ostensibly ‘guarding’ the museum’s artifacts. Id est, props from movies no one hardly cared about anymore and costume pieces that were yellowed with age and who knew what else. Only the spooky, Haunted House-esque environment drew anyone to the place anymore though there had been a recent uptick since the owner had finally been convinced that a website would be beneficial for the business of it. Though it was sworn that the place would never close so long as the owner lived, looking at the nearly empty cash drawer made Niels wonder how they were still in operation at all much less continuing to pay all the employees.

Granted, there were only four of them -- the manager, the day person, himself, and a seasonal worker in October when they extended their hours into the evening. It didn’t pay much at all, that was true; Niels only needed the extra cash to pay for a portion of his living expenses that what the university paid him didn’t cover. He knew the other regular employee had a second night job but how the manager lived at all was a mystery.(He’d asked about that once too with similar results.)Giving up for the moment, he closed the textbook in his lap, using a finger to hold his place as he watched the film. Lips moving along as he mouthed the lines in tandem with the actors, he watched as Dr. Frankenstein brought his creation to life. As the museum was currently empty of patrons, he felt no embarrassment in the least mimicking Colin Clive’s melodramatic mad scientist. That is, until he heard the cackling electronic laugh that signalled the entrance to the museum had opened.

Sitting back in the dilapidated office chair behind the counter, he reopened his textbook and pretended to be engaged as he waited for the patron, curious soul, or lost tourist to approach. As usual, he laid a silent bet on the last, as the shop was located on a popular strip to walk between city landmarks. More often than not, it was a tourist asking for directions rather than someone looking to peruse the collection of odd items for less than the price of a movie ticket. Still, he cleared his throat and called out dryly. ”Welcome to Herod’s Horrors, the Bay Area's Premier Classic Horror Film Museum.” He knew his voice lacked any welcoming quality to it but even the thought of trying to infuse it with anything more than polite boredom felt exhausting. ”Admission is half-price on weekends...”

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rosalind elizabeth taylor
 Posted: Jun 10 2017, 02:29 PM
  quote

i sense there's something in the wind that feels like tragedy's at hand....

  sally
  nightmare before christmas
  26 years old
  single
  heterosexual
  she/her
  forest (she/her)
 21 POSTS

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I don’t know where I’ve been
& it’s been such a long time
As much as Rosalind had come to love the real world and everything it had to offer, there were things she dearly missed about Halloweentown that she simply could not find in everyday San Francisco. In comparison to the world she had once known and called home, the city seemed so full of light, so alive, constantly bustling with electricity and energy that she found unique to this world and completely unfamiliar. San Francisco never slept – where Halloweentown had usually fallen silent when the sun rose, its various inhabitants scurrying home to their holes and dens, San Francisco was exactly the opposite. There was always someone wandering the streets, always taxis searching for passengers to ferry home, always some storefront lit up with blinding fluorescents that spilled out onto the street. Movies played at the theatre at all times of night and day. Streetlights made it possible for her to dodge the shadows on the midnight street corners if she so chose. The people of the real world seemed to know no bounds, and they had manufactured ways to break through the night and make it their own by force. San Francisco was like an anthill, buzzing with activity that would never end, and Rosalind was huddled right in the middle of it, alone. All things considered, the city really was not a bad place at all – that wasn’t what she meant to insinuate. It was her saving grace, her chance at living her own life for once instead of living to serve the inventor who had made her, and she would not squander this incredible opportunity. It simply was different to her, perhaps in the same way that she was different to it. Two strangers who met by chance.

With careful guidance from haven Hill and the assistance of friends and neighbors, she was getting used to being human. It was much more complicated than she ever could have imagined – or perhaps her life as a doll was easier than she thought? She had asked herself this question often throughout the challenging adjustment period she’d struggled through when she first arrived. Haven Hill had hoped to simply set her up with an apartment and some classes and set her free, but they had soon found that they needed to keep a closer eye on her than they had previously anticipated, for not only had she never been human, but she had never been alive in the same sense as other creatures. She had never had a beating heart, or organs, or veins, or blood. She was a masterpiece of science or magic, and even she did not know how it was that she could live in the first place, and yet she did. Her ragdoll body was hardly fragile – sure, it had fallen apart when she tossed herself carelessly from the window of her tower, but she’d simply pulled a needle from behind her ear and stitched herself back up again and went along her merry way as though nothing all that important had happened, and she had suffered no consequences from this. But she had very quickly learned that her human body was nothing like her doll body, and she had to be much more careful with herself. She couldn’t simply stitch her limbs back together with a needle and string if she were to come apart, for there was more to account for now – organs and muscles and blood, all of which were meant to stay inside her body and never see the light of day.

And yet, that seemed to be just the problem for Rosalind. The real world was missing the dark, squishy, bloody, slimy bits. They kept them all under wraps, tucked safely away from prying eyes, censored by news anchors, not anything like the way Halloweentown handled its darkness. Halloweentown had been all about the macabre, all of its monsters and mutants out in the open and celebrated for their strangeness. Now, Rosalind had to seek out things that reminded her of her home, and this was not always an easy task. She’d watched many horror movies, but watching a movie wasn’t the same as being there, standing beside the demon and facing it yourself. She was not afraid – she just wanted a taste of home again. Which was how she found Herod’s Horrors. She had wandered by it a few times, her eye drawn to the window and the sign above the door, but she hadn’t had an opportunity to enter until, at last, she made time for it on a quiet afternoon. A motion detector above the door let out a shriek as she let herself in, eyes falling immediately on whatever wonders she could see. A tv played black and white horror movies, the sort that reminded her of her friends from home, and she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her cheeks. It was only when she heard someone clear their throat that she realized there was an employee sitting behind a nearby counter – the sound caused her to start, and she turned toward the sound with a smile. “Hello,” she said, ignoring his unenthusiastic tone and stepping up to the counter. “I’ll have to keep that in mind if I ever come back. I love these sorts of places.” She dug through her purse for her wallet. “I’d like one ticket, please!”

895 words • niels hrodric vukasin • sorry this took so long! here is a post for u


- post made on 1/3/17
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niels hrodric vukasin
 Posted: Apr 11 2018, 05:17 PM
  quote

on a moonless night i did meet a devil.

  sorcerer's apprentice
  animated original
  24 years old
  single af
  demisexual
  he/him
  allie (she/her)
 51 POSTS

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boy with the broken soul
lost in the pages of self made cages

Niels had no fanciful ideas about the museum he liked more than he would admit to. The layer of dust that covered most everything on display was visible through even the rosiest of rose-colored glasses. To his knowledge, Herod’s didn’t appear on even the quirkiest of lists recommending it to the world. It was a secret to be discovered, hidden among the more popular spots peppered throughout the city of San Francisco. Typically, it was ‘discovered’ by random passersby looking for the nearest public bathroom or directions to Union Square. Only a very specific type of person came looking for the place or stuck around once they were confronted by the jars of green-tinted liquid and fake rubber body parts floating within them. Curiosity was a human trait and it was a morbid sort of curiosity that brought visitors into the museum. Though none of the ‘horrors’ on display were in the least bit real, the macabre vibe and the connection to Hollywood were seemingly enough to entice at least a few visitors during the off season. And that was just the way he liked things. True enough, most of his time spent in the museum was as the night clerk. The owner’s attempt at ‘security’ though who would want to steal any of this or what it was he could do for the place that an alarm system couldn’t were questions that remained unanswered.

Sure, he was a sorcerer and had spent most of his apprenticeship learning spells to both defend and protect the people who lived outside the Northwood. He could easily protect a place like this from thieves if need be. His boss hadn’t known that when he’d been hired. Still didn’t know that. Nobody did save for his roommate and a sparse few others. Niels guarded that secret from most others, if not with great dedication, then with at least some hesitance. Magic was not something that was ‘normal’ for this world. Not his kind of magic, in any case, and the things he could do were the stuff of fiction for most people. It wasn’t real to them. Neither were the monsters that lived in his nightmares when he dared to sleep. Rusalka, strzyga, vodyanoy -- just figments. It’s what made this world safer than his own even when he had to smother his true nature most of the time. It wasn’t difficult most of the time. He could let a little of his power off in small, subtle ways that went unnoticed. He was freer with it when others weren’t around, of course, and that was part of the reason he liked working for the museum as much as he did. There was a decided lack of people about to witness anything he might have a bit of trouble explaining.

The only time they saw more than a handful of people on any given day, even in summer, was during the month of October. Halloween was months off yet but it’s wasn’t entirely unusual that someone had wandered in. Only mildly annoying when he wanted to watch the rest of the movie playing on the screen. Niels tried not to let his irritation show, truly he did. It wasn’t as if they’d been plagued by visitors all day. Yet, still, he felt a bit harassed by the interruption. He’d stared at his textbook with coal dark eyes, head resting on his hand, and finger tapping in growing irritation as he’d waited for the woman to approach the desk or wander out again. That she didn’t do either immediately only irritated him further and he turned to staring at her openly, as if willing her to make a decision. When she continued to wander through the front room, smiling strangely, his patience grew thin. It was that impatience that drove him to clear his throat and seek her attention.

Face impassive, he’d recited the typical spiel partly in hope that it would drive her away. It was just his luck the woman fell into the category of people genuinely intrigued by the place. Closing the textbook with a decided snap, he left it in the seat behind him as he stood to meet her at the counter. His brows came together as he viewed her with no little amount of skepticism. It was the smile that did it. It was too….pleasant. Too genuine. It could hardly be called a grin, it was just a smile, but there was something…. beatific about it. As if the woman sincerely found her surroundings to be agreeable. He couldn’t help but cast a furtive glance around the room as if the decor had suddenly changed without his noticing. ”Come back?” He muttered, pulling out the deck of admission passes before handing her the cardstock square that served as a ticket. ”Nobody ever comes back.” It was true, insofar as he knew. He’d never seen the same face twice.

His voice was infused with only slightly more enthusiasm than before as he shuffled around behind the counter before sliding her a museum pamphlet, a coupon booklet, and the glossy flyer promoting their half-price weekends. The short stack stopped silently beside the pass and he looked up at the woman again, floppy dark curls falling across his eyes. ”It’s ten dollars, regular price. The museum is dim inside, though the path through is marked with floor lights and a painted line.” Speaking so much at once made his accent more obvious than he would like. ”There’s only one way in and out, so if you become frightened just follow the line until it leads you out again.” The corner of his mouth ticked upwards in a smirk. ”Be certain you want to go in before you do. I don’t like going in after people when they scream.”

980 words

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