You guys want to talk about AI and souls and death and whatnot? Okay, sure, whatever. Have this.
This is probably set at least a year maybe more in the future of The Rosewood Affair. If you look closely you can find my own peculiar views on death cleverly hidden within the text. Very cleverly. Definitely. Also some mentions of soul mechanics which I may or may not have a page of textbook illustrations of I need to scan before I accidentally ruin them like I tend to do with my stuff.
No seriously why do you guys freak out so much about death.
(I am very tired and this is unedited. I apologize in advance.)
On the Subject of Souls
Rosie’s couch was surprisingly comfortable,
considering he could personally sit on the floor with no less comfort.Linda slung her legs over the armrest and
leant her head back against the cushions as she fiddled with the cheap crystal
butterfly. There were no decorative pillows to get in the way, and at the
moment no one around to annoy her, family or otherwise. She rather liked Rosie’s
couch. It was good for things like this.Rosie himself was in the kitchen, doing
something unholy to a batch of tomatoes, at least one egg and possibly
pineapples. Aside from the two of them, the apartment was empty. She had no
idea where that father of his was. Faint music drifted through the walls from
the neighbouring apartment. It was quiet, calm.
Tag: linda
Just to make it clear, this is not the new chapter I promised you. This is me seeing the wonderful piece of art that @lcanan-jarrus drew of the kid squad, and immediately freaking out and hatching a ficlet.
The actual chapter will be much longer and much slower to write, I promise. Anyways, here, the squad comes together.
“This
is Alvie Rosewood. He’s transferring to our class today. Treat him well, yes?”—
Retail Hell
Once you understood Customer Service it didn’t have to be a terrible job. Linda tried to think of it as a temporary purgatory rather than a forever hell to man the main desk. Even if the sound of screaming children trying on their clothes had started to drill a small hole of headache into the back of her skull. That point of pain would help pay her way through school in this capitalist machine.
Besides, Gravity Falls was a town that knew how to handle problems. Even if that meant, for some reason known only to corporate, playing quaking duck sounds over the pop muzak background noise.
So when the cute boy with one eye came in Linda flashed him her best retail grin and asked: “How may I help you, sir?”
backup 