Thiiiis! …is an indie story about people who are magical. Their escapades are musical, hysterical and tragical. The ambiance is fin de siècle, the setting is fantastical. The plot’s advanced in serial form and everything’s dynamical. The Author is an anarchist, xyr politics are radical. (If neopronouns blow your mind, you’ll find the rest satanical!) You’ll see a cast of weirdos doing pratfalls while they’re traumatized, with many cheerful facts about the struggles of the marginalized. —- I haven’t any editor, you must forgive me my mistakes. The formatting is tenuous, when WordPress updates it will break. In short, although the site is fucked and updates are sporadical, please read this indie story about people who are magical!
⇊The Latest⇊
Your First Click? Hi. (Open Me.)
Welcome to the Anti-Wizarding World. It’s not about Him, it’s about Them (and, on a good day, Us), the status quo can go fuck itself, the magic system makes sense (I think) and (so far) the whole thing has negative capital value. How did you find me here?
Nobody with any authority is going to tell you it’s okay to read this. No editors, no staff writers, no publishers, no ribbons or laurels. If I had to scale all those walls and jump through those hoops, you wouldn’t get this story.
So, we’re going to have to operate on trust, but that’s in short supply these days. Nobody vetted me for you, so I could be some scam artist trying to get money or data out of you by crapping out AI-generated garbage for no effort. Even content creators who DO get vetted might be that way. I get it. I swear by all that is sacred to Art Itself, I am a human being who cares about what I do and say, but it’s getting harder and harder to prove that.
If we’re being honest, you probably gave the site a glance, detected unprofessional vibes and noped out already so it wouldn’t load you up with viruses and suspicious cookies. If you clicked and read this, though, can I get a chance? You give me a chance to tell you a good story, I’ll make my best effort, and later – WAY later! – if you wanna see more of this, you can help out on a voluntary basis and you do not have to give me money for any of it.
And, in case you need to hear this up front, before you even click that “New Readers” link: YES, THERE IS “ADULT CONTENT” HERE. Sex is like garlic, it keeps the corporate vampires away – and that keeps your humble, anti-establishment author (me) HONEST. You really shouldn’t be dealing with these themes and this terrifying ‘Verse without some emotional and intellectual maturity on board anyway, but if you’re uncomfortable with a level of sexuality that Japan would probably allow in a shounen manga existing in a (mostly) fenced off area that you don’t have to access, you may leave with my blessing. Good luck out there. Sorry we couldn’t connect.
It’s April of ’88. A Different ’88.
Sing if you will (it’s a killer track!) or don’t...
Johnny couldn’t wait, stole Erik away
Did some terrorism on an unwilling vay-cay
So many people saved, and David’s time was gay
It seemed it might last forever but John knew they couldn’t stay
Erik’s family almost killed them with their plan — but even so
John let him go
David went astray, so Johnny would be saved
He’s a consummated liar
But no trust would he betray
Though Erik’s nerves were frayed, and some mistakes were made
John’s last message was delivered,
“I’m so sorry, stay okay
And here’s photos of the current genocide!” — a strange trousseau
They didn’t know
Run, band of trav’lers
You can’t help them, you must save yourselves
Fly as the world falls down
A little faith in magic serves you well
Erik’s gone insane, but he might be well again
He’s back with the ones who love him
But they need to get home safe
Their cover surely blown, with hazards still unknown
Oh, the devil’s in the detours
But somehow they will escape!
Ooh
Ooh, ooh-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo
Soldier On! Arrivals and Departures
Newest
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Train Games (259|30)
“This is our hideout!” Maggie declared, with her hand on the sliding door. It had a single round window with a blue curtain drawn across it. “Three beds, and a private bath with a…” There was a muted thud, the door rattled, and a flash of purplish light was visible through the thick drape. Maggie…
Tin Soldier
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