A.Journal

Checks

668 checks

Challenging

You weren't always so incurious. Thaw, CASCADE! Thaw your heart!

Medium

Totally meaningless, yet no meaning can be made without it.

Easy

If PSEUDOPOD's pants were attempting to flee the scene, they did not make it very far.

Easy

She's not the intended readership.

Trivial

Luzian stuff? La Luz is a techno-fascist state. Are they jackbooting on music now?

Easy

Crayon ground down, unsteady handwriting, two-headed creature as emotional proxy.

Medium

Almost as though you already knew what you were looking for, you turn straight towards the 'Made for Pederasts' section...

Medium

Without knowing why, your eyes flick as though on their own accord towards the 'Made For Pederasts' section.

Easy

HARD CUT to his tiny face. CRASH ZOOM -- his golden eyes flash.

Medium

It looks like a dinosaur rampaged through a shopping mall, and this is its dung.

Medium

The maelstrom of black markings feels like home now. Almost cosy.

Challenging

The best you can come up with is an image of a tiny Melita, reprimanding you for failures both real and imagined.

Challenging

You imagine a tiny Melita sitting on the edge of a yellowed phone receiver.

Medium

A single cell of terminal intent.

Easy

The beauty of ciphers.

Medium

'Blood Type: Hecatomb'.

Easy

Eerily familiar now. The text almost recites itself.

Easy

You and HOLOCENE the loving parents-in-waiting.

Challenging

You are at home here, in the secret runes of your kind. Your training should hold.

Easy

The cipher wavers like a mirage -- a madman's shopping list, equal parts banality and wonder.

Medium

There is a structure, but you can only palpate at its contours like a blind woman.

Medium

Featuring a transparent lid for the necro-voyeurs.

Medium

You have found someone who isn't really here.

Formidable

Every grand finale needs an epic cue.

Medium

Malodorous Insufferable Humiliating Onanism.

Medium

Your philosophical girlfriend.

Medium

M.I.H.O. is aesthetically compromised. Destroy all traces of that awful, awful acronym.

Medium

A sunbeam accidentally puncturing a low overcast sky.

Medium

A dream that tastes like ashes on his tongue just now.

Challenging

Two utterly banal words, but they're the first he's had of her in ages. He'll hold onto them like prayer beads, until all possible meaning has been rubbed off.

Challenging

A shrine that only he maintains.

Medium

Not strong enough.

Medium

Getting up only to mourn another ritual.

Medium

A century earlier and it could've ruled the world.

Medium

Followed by the sound of an electric saw, unhinged laughter, and a torrent of blood from the side gutters.

Legendary

Two ghosts stalk this house -- a teenage girl stomping the attic, a middle-aged man screaming in the basement.

Medium

Under a stray shadow, stifling any noise.

Medium

Leave the door ajar. Do not lock yourself within the tyranny of the rational.

Medium

Like a day-old phone number written on the back of a young hand.

Challenging

Right when they were about to make it big.

Medium

'Ritual'... 'deal'... you could easily hear Tempo exchanging one word for the other...

Medium

Dildo nom de guerre. In recognition of its heft.

Formidable

You remember it all too closely -- hopscotching through the lightning strikes of youth.

Medium

In the slow dip of silence, a piano melody lulls through a thin wall.

Challenging

There are words to be traced in the loops of her cigarette light -- if only you could read the language.

Easy

From a nearby apartment, the muffled sound of a beautifully-played piano gently shifting key.

Legendary

Maybe you've solved a cosmic mistake, you were supposed to be him all along.

Challenging

The revolutionary spirit.

Legendary

His heart forever torn, if you were to put your ear to his chest you would hear its tender, arrhythmic sob.

Medium

That would be killing you. You know you've thought about it. Do you want to watch?