M of Ragged Feathers @signalstation@raggedfeathers.com

1) Broken airlock, AI claims it's fine

2) Scuttling sounds

3) Keep seeing a twin of yourself out of the corner of your eye

4) All other cryo-chambers full of mushrooms instead of frozen shipmates

5) No lights save for flashing/rotating warning lights in every room

6) Butt cheeks imprint visible in condensation on your cryo-chamber lid, right above where your face was.

I will burn a MILLION favourites and reposts to fix a typographical error. I will walk into hell itself wearing shoes constructed of matchbooks to hunt the typographical error to its very nest.

But I will NEVER just take a moment to reread a post before sending it out into the world to catch the error in the first place. This is my solemn vow, etched in fire on my shining soul.

Signs Your Exorcist May Not Be Legit

1. Their sole piece of equipment they call a "Ghostbustin' stick," which you suspect is a storm-blown tree limb from your neighbor's lawn.

2. They claim they learned how to exorcise "from the streets" and so you ask "Which streets?" but when you go to those named streets, they still look pretty haunted actually.

3. When asked their favorite thing about being an exorcist, they say "Working in a field that has no centralized licensing authority."

We Are Updating Our Occult Privacy Policy

At some point in the last few years, we have:

) Viewed you through a scrying pool and/or mirror
) Crafted a double of you from blood and willpower and used it to manipulate your moods and actions and/or
) Sunk into a dark liquid pool, then rose again to the surface but the surface was your eyes, through which we saw all you saw, thought as you thought, as intimate as breath.

Due to new legislation, now we have to ask:
Can we keep doing all that?

I am a phoenix, an unkillable weed, a scattered clutch of eggs, and the loss of witches.town and a.weirder.earth has only made me more powerful.

I use Mastodon as a place to write microfiction, mostly. Oddly horror-focused for someone who doesn't enjoy being scared.

I've written pseudonymous nonsense for Horrible Vacuum as George G.G. George (if you like witches/cannibals/humor) and everything else is at signalstation.com

I make music mixes, live in the SF Bay Area. Still alive.

My wife and I test our mettle against a doll-haunted nightmare wasteland in this Let's Play video. You can watch it if you like.

Our protagonist's husband vanished and soon we're talking to dolls, crashing cars, chatting up ghosts and then things get WEIRD.

https://youtu.be/sr8ElkuWzxg

PLAGUE DOCTOR: Do these rats, with their pestilent fleas, bring you joy?

PEASANT: Absolutely not.

PLAGUE DOCTOR: Then unclutter your life and let them go.

PEASANT: ... Yeah but how? The whole world is filth?

PLAGUE DOCTOR: ... Honestly, I hope you don't, 'cause: Job security. I think this was just supposed to be a joke about a Netflix show, transposed in time, but the conceit is rotten to its buboed core.

A fencing league, a real collection of rogues and assassins, but our rapiers are in storage. We duel with compliments. Every blush is proof a blow struck true. Beware the duelist with a pocket full of love notes, friend.

Finally got my Mastodon account certified as organic, so into my mouth it goes so I can crack my teeth upon its impenetrable healthy truths.

Grim Reaper on a cliff overlooking the town, frustrated, holding on to its THE END OF THE WORLD mixtape on cassette, sticking a #2 pencil in the geared spool trying to pull the sagging tape back into the case while people go about their day in the town below.

Nothing worse than finding a note on your cryo-sleep chamber saying "DO NOT DISTURB" that you didn't put there.

Everyone pretending like the half-eaten cake in the refrig unit and the loose confetti were from a "security test" and not evidence the ship's crew didn't bother to wake you up for a party.

Captain's still wearing a party hat. Claims it's for medical use. But I'm not even mad.

Just noticed I had the comment "First" in my drafts here. That was supposed to be the first comment posted in the entire Mastodon federation, so if you could just... mentally update your conception of everything you read here so that I was the first person, I'd appreciate it.

Please pledge to my Kickstart for A Big Hole in the Ground. I reckon I need to raise, like, 17 dollars and 28 cents.

We've got stretch goals including A Smaller Hole Just to the Side of the Central Hole What We're Financing as well as Whipping a Dead Bush with a Sun-Hot Garden Hose 'Til Something Else Grows There.

Revisiting a few showcase items from my library that didn't earn their membership by way of their contents.

[prompt via @apLundell ]

Dumb-geons and Dang-'uns.

INT capped at 3. Dialogue peppered with "Dang!" indicating everything from anger to awe.

Okay, that's it.

Went to update my bullet journal but that sidewinder reached its sidearm a might bit faster'n this ol' rattlesnake and I got blasted out of my boots and into a cactus patch!

[In this post, the question is posed: What if the 'bullet' in 'bullet journal' referred to the ammunition of a firearm instead of a dot in an unordered list, and what if that journal had anthropomorphic qualities, unchecked aggression, and was in the Old West[TM]? Form small groups & discuss if this joke worked for you.]

1) Broken airlock, AI claims it's fine

2) Scuttling sounds

3) Keep seeing a twin of yourself out of the corner of your eye

4) All other cryo-chambers full of mushrooms instead of frozen shipmates

5) No lights save for flashing/rotating warning lights in every room

6) Butt cheeks imprint visible in condensation on your cryo-chamber lid, right above where your face was.

At least we can say of them: They died as they lived... dying all the time.

A sphinx that genuinely doesn't know the answers to its riddles and doesn't believe you when you get them right.

A pair of talking doors. One of them makes fun of you. The other silently judges.

A pressure trap that can be disabled with a written document certifying one's final payment against student debt.

Entire treasure has been invested, has been converted to 'the roof of your neighbor's house,' etc. Go steal a roof, scum.