Statement Fic - Tumblr Posts
Ace of Pentacles (Reversed) / DSMP Archive AU [Karl & DiscDuo-centric] Fic
Somewhat next part of the tarot thingy
The idea is I get a random tarot generator and then write a story based on that tarot but theyre all.. loosely connected
and for some reason i just found out writing in statement transcript thingy form is so much fun because i like ranting a lot in paragraphs lmao
basically tommy and dream talking about tommys exile
and some extra ig
The Hierophant Chapter 2 / The Archivist's Tarot Deck [DSMP AU]
uhh. so chapter 2- i never meant to end up updating this but it happened
AND WITH SCHLATT pog
i didnt think through the mind control w/ tubbo, my apologies, but i have now! -ish.
“Statement of Nigel Roberts regarding his experience with an art piece he created of a skyscraper.”
The Raspberry Sparkling Juice
Statement of Helena Gallegos, regarding . . . raspberry sparkling juice. Original statement given December 30, 2022. Audio recording January 13, 2023 by Scaphia Nohaye, Head Archivist of the Usher Foundation. Statement begins.
I’ve always loved anything fizzy ever since I was a little kid. Soda as well as seltzer water, plus champagne and sparkling juice when I was an adult. Once I got my own apartment and had to buy everything myself, I really liked those buy 2 get 1 free specials. I know, I know; they’re all scams, but I actually do have enough money to spare every once in a while, so it never really mattered. Until it did. I didn’t even know I got one free, at first . . .
That day, on my way home from work on Friday, I stopped at a grocery store, intending to pick up a few fresh vegetables for tomorrow’s dinner. I was extremely tired after working for nine hours and annoyed from the customers who, seemingly, had never bought anything before in their lives, making the line at my cash register forever. Deciding to treat myself after the awful day I’d had and noticing my favorite fizzy beverage, I added two bottles of raspberry sparkling juice to my cart. I could have taken advantage of the “buy 2 get 1 free,” but three bottles would have been unnecessary for just me. Little did I know that the special was given to me anyway.
I paid for my groceries, loaded them into my car, and drove home. That evening, I tore the foil off the cap and opened up one of the bottles. The bright red liquid cascaded elegantly into the wine glass, mesmerizing with its vibrant color and foamy carbonation. I brought the glass to my lips and took a long, slow sip. And immediately spat out the salty, metallic liquid. Blood? What the hell? I thought. Looking at my glass, I took note of the carbonation. The sip I had taken hadn’t been fizzy at all . . .
I hesitantly tried another mouthful: raspberry, just as the flavor should be. Maybe I bit my tongue? After I tested it by pressing my tongue against my teeth, I still didn’t notice anything wrong. Obviously, I was a little freaked out. I mean, why would it taste like blood? Because I was scared and living alone, I grabbed a book and played some relaxing music as I finished the rest of my perfectly normal bottle of raspberry sparkling juice.
The next day, I slept in as it was a Saturday morning. When I finally climbed out of bed at noon, I grabbed the second bottle of sparkling juice. It wasn’t as if I had bought it for a specific purpose after all, and what better occasion to celebrate than a Saturday with no chores to do? I unscrewed the cap and poured myself a glass. Remembering last night, I cautiously took a tiny sip, but luckily, there was no taste of blood, only the sweet-tart taste of raspberry. I ended up drinking the rest of the bottle. Admittedly, I didn’t need all the sugar, but this was a rare treat, something I only had once in a while.
That night, just as I was about to climb into bed, I caught sight of my mirror. After one too many times playing “Bloody Mary” as a kid, I didn’t like making eye contact with myself in the dark, especially now that I lived alone. But it wasn’t my own reflection that drew my eye. It was the glass bottle with red foil covering the cap. At first, half-asleep as I was, I was simply confused. Hadn’t I put the bottles in the recycling bin? Yes, yes I had. So why was it on my bookshelf? Being admittedly a bit of a neat freak, I never brought food into my bedroom, so obviously I hadn’t put it there.
But there it was, on the second shelf, wedged between The Adventures of Hugo Cabret and Murder on the Orient Express, with its dark glass glinting slightly from the streetlights outside my window. I turned away from the mirror to gaze directly at my bookshelf. Of course, the bottle wasn’t there anymore; and when I looked at the mirror again, I couldn’t see it there either. Unnerved, I flicked on all the lights. Still no trace of it, so I got into bed and tried to fall asleep. Around 4 a.m., I finally drifted off.
The next morning, when I went to grab a couple eggs from the fridge for breakfast, I noticed, on the lowest shelf, a bottle of sparkling raspberry juice. Staring at the out-of-place object, I wondered whether I was going just slightly insane. I knew, for a fact, that I had drunk both bottles already and put them in the recycling bin after I was finished. So what was this one doing in my fridge, and where did it come from? But I had no answers, so I eventually decided to taste it.
After I cooked up a plateful of cheesy scrambled eggs, I removed the bottle of red liquid from the fridge and unscrewed the cap. Taking a sip straight from the bottle, I tasted nothing but raspberry. After the strangeness on Friday and Saturday, I expected the metallic tang of blood in my mouth again, but nothing unusual happened. For all I could tell, it was simply carbonated fruit juice.
That was last week. Every single day since then, I found another bottle in my fridge, or in the cupboard, or on my table. I haven’t opened any more of them, and I can’t seem to get rid of them. Every time I try to throw it in the trash, I can’t make myself do it. What happens when my apartment doesn’t have any more room left?
Statement ends. I find it highly suspicious that Mx. Gallegos didn’t mention a single other person in their statement, so there are no witnesses to corroborate any part of their story. In addition, they could not provide us with any receipts verifying the purchase, nor would they allow us either a picture and/or video of these bottles, nor would they give a follow-up interview. As neither I nor my assistants can find any proof whatsoever, I must say that I find it more likely that Mx. Gallegos has mistakenly purchased wine or champagne instead of juice as they claim. Although, there is one aspect of this statement I find strange—it refuses to record to my laptop. The only device that doesn’t immediately malfunction during playback is an old-fashioned cassette tape recorder. Recording ends.