Welcome To Here

Hi!

I'm Else (as in the adjective or adverb), a queer creature who does various pointless things. Maybe you know me from Twitter. Sometimes my writing makes people feel things.

This is my website! It's a space for the pointless things I do! Sometimes that's art, but mostly that's writing. Have a look around. The about page has more info and links to the various places I can be found.

That's all.

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Latest Posts

Empire grew in blood and greed, but the exuberance of its youth soon gave way to a colder cruelty.

The history of Empire—there is only ever one, and only one who did not grow in the shadow cast by its death would claim not to know it—is fraught with danger. Even the most theoretical study of its contours risks stumbling upon an old taboo, a deadly truth wrapped in undying chains by ghoul-kings who feared the touch of sunlight upon their sins.

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Empire's shadows linger long after the last pyre has fallen to ash.

It is well known, to those of a certain disposition, that the ruins of the old watchtowers are attended still by the ghosts of the soldiers who gave their lives to the belief that a piece of land—a pile of rock—would protect their fellows from some distant enemy, uncaring of the internal foes that starved their supply lines and drained their spirits.

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To Kill the Sunset

Lave is walking through the market when someone fails to kill her.

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Beatrice's Eyes

Beatrice sniffs the air uneasily, unsure of herself in a way that she once vowed she would never be. Something has changed, something has shifted within her home's generous confines, and she hasn't the slightest idea what. An absence in the air; a lack of smell and noise.

"Cinnamon," she calls, "I need your eyes."

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Fangs Over Breakfast

She wanders into the kitchen midway through your preparations, drawn by the warm scents of cooking meet and browning bread and your heartbeat's happy rhythm. You tug the blackout curtain closed as she does, walling out sunset's last beams before they can touch her grey skin.

"Hey!" you cheerfully greet her sleep-mussed hair and hollow eyes, "do you want some coffee? It'll be ready in a minute."

She grumbles at you and shakes her head; not a surprise, since things like her don't really need to eat, but you like to offer anyway.

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