I keep trying so hard to bring this muse back to life but this fandom is literally dead. It’s been so long that I can’t find a way to cross fandom roleplay, I doubt the series will ever finish re-airing in France which means I don’t see any of these other CL blogs reviving their own muses. The shows dead, the fandoms dead, the roleplay fandoms turned to dust. I’m not sure what to do here. I’m not ready to give him up, but I just don’t know what to do. Maybe I’ll figure something out someday. Until then, take care.
//I RE-DID ALL OF MY PAGES BUT I COPIED THE THEME CODES FROM MY MIKU BLOG AND I JUST REALIZED THAT FORGOT TO TAKE THE MIKU OFF OF THE CORNER OF MY GUIDELINES PAGE————-
"Oooh, real spooky.”
"What are you gonna go as? Maybe that’ll give me an idea."
"Didn’t plan on going as anything. Halloween isn’t really my thing."
"Yes, I managed to figure that out."
"You could be a spooky ghost, and use a bedsheet."
"—I can’t believe I still haven’t figured out a Halloween costume.”
"…You know Halloween is on Thursday, right?"
ANNOUNCEMENT; This blog has been revamped and is finally ready to be used again!
did it ever occur to you
i might like [ keeping ] what happened to me
buried down d e e p ?
❝ I want you to have eyes only for me. ❞
there’s no possible way for me to just say it out loud.
I will revamp this blog entirely and bring this muse back after I’ve finished my fiction-writing class. That is what is taking up all of my free-time with writing lately. Just a heads up.
So this is it, then? You’re gonna do this, like the pathetic piece of shit that you are. Because who needs you, anyways? Who needs Jeremie Belpois?
Nobody, that’s who.
Think about William and how much you alienated him. Think of how horribly you treated him and how when your friends gave him the cold shoulder, the dirty looks and spread the nasty rumors—even if you yourself didn’t partake in that, you certainly didn’t bother to help him out, to tell your friends that they were wrong.
It’s a good thing your father once had a past time as hunting, because when you spent last Saturday at home helping your mother with dinner—by the way, it looks like your parents might finally be looking at getting back together, does it not?—you were able to get into his room and sneak the crappy little pistol he said he never rather liked because it had horrible aim.
Think about Aelita and everything you’ve robbed from her. You killed her father with an ANTI-XANA program that never even worked. How pathetic was that? She’s going to be traumatized for the rest of her life because of how disgusting, pathetic, and stupid you are.
You are u s e l e s s .
Everyone knows that, though.
There’s cold metal pressed against your temples and your hot skin throbs against the end of the gun but, in all honestly, it feels nice—soothing, even. You always did prefer cold weather to warm, and this is a nice way to go, right? Quick. Instant. Painless? Maybe, maybe not. We’ll see just how horrible that aim your father was talking about is. Go out with a bang. Haha, get it? —- b a n g.
You think of Yumi’s slick, raven hair and of Ulrich’s temper. Of their relationship and if they ever will get together or not or if maybe Yumi will go for William—personally, even though you love ‘em both to death, you think Yumi would be better with Will. But you’d never admit that, and now you’ll never have to. You think of Odd’s sense of humor and how much trouble he’s gotten you into—what a dumb ass. But hey, it was fun, right? A rollercoaster’s gotta stop eventually. Everything ends, eventually. Some quicker than others.
Are you sure you want to do this?
I d o n ’ t k n o w.
It’s a little too late for you to rethink your decision when you’ve already tugged your finger against that trigger, and the last thing you see is your own room spinning around you before you faceplant into the carpet. The corner of your eye brings shimmering red spreading onto the floor that surrounds you, and now you’re thinking of all of your friends and your enemies, of XANA and Aelita’s family, of Yumi’s and Ulrich’s family and Odd’s father with the tattoo’s and even Jim and Mr. Delmas. All the things you’ve shared, the things you’ve done, all that once was and now things that will never be and now, now, you aren’t so sure this is what you wanted.
Jeremie Belpois’ last words are: "I wasn’t ready to go."
It’s hard, not having XANA around.
Words Jeremie Belpois never saw entering his mind. But with every passing day, normal routine becomes too…
n o r m a l.
What else is he supposed to do? Wake up. Go to the showers. Go to breakfast. Go to class. Do homework. Hang out with friends. Bed. Repeat. Every. Single. Day.
It’s always the same, now.
And he dreads it!
He dreads checking his phone and seeing no alerts, no missed calls. He dreads not being able to use the classic, “May I go to the infirmary?” excuse. And, typical, that Einstein, smartest kid in the school, would end up pulling the dumbest moves—dreading things that are meant to be enjoyed. He’s dreading living his life, having fun, and he wonders—hopes, and prays to a God that he isn’t sure exists, that he isn’t alone in this.
”Please,” he mumbles to himself, head sinking into the clammy palms of his hands. “Please, don’t let me be alone in this. Don’t let me be crazy when things are supposed to be normal.”
I’ve been playing around with style and formatting on my Miku blog, as well as writing dialogue in Japanese to keep up authenticity in the sense that she lives in Japan. Which means I will also change around my style on this blog too, and probably start writing dialogue in French…