Still here
Mar. 17th, 2026 06:56 pmAlso on tumblr and bluesky as silversays
Smoke alarms
I have some on ceilings/walls
30 (78.9%)
I have some in piles around the place
7 (18.4%)
I have an inadequate number / inadequate coverage
4 (10.5%)
nope
2 (5.3%)
when one goes off, I assume it's serious and take action
10 (26.3%)
when one goes off, I assume it's a battery issue and silence it / take it off the wall
16 (42.1%)
my place/building has built-in alarms, and I trust them
4 (10.5%)
my place/building has built-in alarms, and they go off all the time, argh
0 (0.0%)
other
3 (7.9%)
ticky-box full of pizza, yeah!
19 (50.0%)
ticky-box full of iridescent bubbles
26 (68.4%)
ticky-box full of chopsticks
17 (44.7%)
ticky-box full of hiking
16 (42.1%)
ticky-box full of hugs
31 (81.6%)
. . . omg Blumhouse is deadass just making this? Blumhouse???
(h/t to @gaymeroo)
ME: (describing my ideal videogame) I just want gore and body horror, and I want to solve a mystery, grow crops, and fuck a monster. Is that too much to ask?

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Mouse orbits the atrium. The priest watches from their vestibule, but Mouse knows when their attention turns away, the priest satisfied that Mouse knows the rites and is comfortable performing them alone. There is ease in them, a kind of dance as they make their bows and sign their wishes—words being too easily overheard—to the symbols of the moon’s many phases. The entryway is the closed eye; opposite it is the open one. The walls between are lined with other doors framed with idols, most of which would open into full shrines to the god’s aspects.
They halt at the moon’s open eye, which here—in a city of contracts and arguments of truth—is considered the primary aspect of the Lord of the Moon. Mouse doesn’t know if they believe that. The closed eye is the one they turn too most often, but right now…
“Your eye is upon me,” they murmur, and hear it ripple through the open chamber and up the tower to the god’s ears. “May it continue to bring me good fortune.”
To say anything else here, where the priest listens as well as the god, would be too much. Mouse bows again, then continues their unhurried honoring of every phase of Jiraci Mooneye. They are all one, in the end, and Mouse cannot say for certain which showed him House Ilizana’s sigil and thus the path to a new life.
When they return to the entryway, the closed eye of the god inset in onyx above it, the priest says, “Walk in the moon’s light, sibling mine.”
“I’d rather walk in the moon’s shadow,” Mouse says, and for a moment they think the priest will scold them.
Instead, the priest laughs. “Perhaps one day I will see you wearing his eyelid as a cloak,” they say. “May he watch over you until you find your path.”
Mouse turns to face the priest, unsettled, but their eyes are closed and a smile peaceful on their face as if they’ve been dozing the whole time.
There is nothing to be done but to make their final prayers—May your shadow be warm and welcoming, may those who wish ill upon me overlook my presence, may my footsteps be quiet and my eyes open to the night’s mysteries—before they exit to rejoin Rhei in the city’s streets.