Showing posts with label Puddles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Puddles. Show all posts

Sunday, April 19, 2026

Engine Room: Mirror Mirror on the Wall (Escape from Club Apophis, 41)


(click to enlarge)


STORYLINE:   In the mad dash to evade the Enforcers, the team scattered. Lost and half-blind, Minjo ducked into the nearest available door.

The corridor was a jarring contrast to the plastic surgery clinic's sterile white above. Here, everything glowed warm and decadent. She couldn't read the details clearly. Her world had been a smear of shapes and color since the sewers took her glasses. But she could feel the difference. Thick carpet underfoot instead of tile. The air tasted faintly of mahogany and expensive old perfume. Warmth instead of clinical cold.

At the end of the hall, a brass door radiated importance. She didn't need sharp eyes to recognize that shape of authority.

She ran for it, heart hammering against her ribs. She pressed the gold serpent brooch to the kiosk by feel.

"Welcome home, Mistress Paine," the automated assistant chirped. The heavy door hissed open.

Footsteps echoed behind her.

Minjo slipped inside and dropped to the cold floor. She dove beneath what felt like a bed. Her hands found a brass frame, heavy embroidered fabric, the scent of dust and trapped air. She pressed herself flat and waited.

MasterGin's voice cut through the corridor like a razor drawn across velvet. "Trying to break what belongs to me? How ambitious of you."

"You can't do this to me." Paine's voice was tight. Desperate.

"Oh, I already have."

"I built this clinic. I run it."

"And yet here we are. Think of it as a sabbatical. A very long one. Your only duty now is to ensure no one else harms another glorious hair on his head. Now go. Before I'm forced to correct what jealousy has done to your face."

Heels receded. Precise. Unhurried.

The door swung open.

"Welcome home, Mistress Paine," the automated assistant repeated, just as brightly.

Minjo shifted backward into the shadows.

Something heavy smashed against the wall. She flinched at the sound. Glass, by the pitch of it, shattering across the floor. Something small skittered under the bed skirt and came to rest near her knee. She felt the edge of it with careful fingers. A shard. Mirror glass. She moved her hand away.

From under the folds of fabric, she listened more than she watched.

The clinic administrator's breathing was ragged. The rustle of fabric, a zipper, something heavy dropping to the floor. A change of clothes. Minjo filed this away. Paine shedding the white coat in private meant the white coat was a performance. What came after was the real thing. The unmistakeable shape and colors of a nun habit.

Then the soft thud of a body sliding down a wall. Knees pulling in. A choked sob that the room swallowed slowly.

Minjo had expected many things from Nurse Paine. Crying was not among them.

She inched forward carefully, staying low, until she had a partial sightline through the gap in the bed skirt. Shapes and light. The glow of a halophone activating. Paine's blurred silhouette on the floor, something small held up in the amber light, a lock of something pale, silver-bright even to her damaged eyes. Hair. Long and silver.

Jihoon's hair.

Paine gripped it like a lifeline.

"April 13, 2055," Paine said, her voice hoarse. "Club Apophis. Five minutes to midnight."

The phone projected a hologram into the dark room. Minjo couldn't make out faces clearly, blurred shapes and moving light, but she didn't need to. She heard sounds. Clinking glasses, upbeat music, layered chatter. A birthday party. Someone singing Happy Birthday with theatrical confidence. She recognized the timbre of that voice even muffled through projection speakers.

MasterGin.

She heard the wink in his voice, "It's going to be you."

The crowd began to chant.

Ten. Nine. Eight.

Minjo held herself perfectly still. She was beginning to understand what she was witnessing.

Three. Two. One.

A sound she could interpret without seeing: heavy doors opening. Streetlight bleeding in. She could tell by the way the room's light shifted even through her limited sight. The music stopped mid-note. Absolute silence.

Then a voice she knew.

Uncertain. Slightly embarrassed. Completely ordinary.

"Hi."

Minjo's hand flew to her mouth.

No one on screen moved.

Paine killed the projection. The room plunged back into suffocating silence.

The sound that followed was harder to listen to than anything in the recording. Not sobbing exactly. The specific, ugly sound of a person coming apart when they believe no one can hear them. Ragged breaths scraping against the quiet. The wet sound of grief that has nowhere to go.

Minjo shifted her weight slightly to ease the ache in her knees. Her knee grazed something, the glass shard barely touching it, and the tiny sound it made against the floorboards detonated in the silence.

Paine's breath stopped.

Then the bed was gone. Hauled back with a jarring metallic scrape. Cold air rushed in. A shape loomed over her. Minjo couldn't see the expression clearly but she could read the body language in the set of the shoulders, the raised arm. Something sharp and metallic glinted the ambient light. Shears.

Minjo froze. She calculated what she could: the distance to the door by memory, the approximate angle of the blade by the glint, and her absolute zero percent chance of survival.

She waited.

Above her, something changed. The raised arm didn't fall. Minjo could feel the recalculation happening in the pause, threat assessment shifting, the quality of the silence changing from predatory to something else.

Slowly, the shears lowered.

"I didn't mean to pry," Minjo said. She kept her voice perfectly even. "I just needed a place to hide." She nodded toward the silver strands she could make out in Paine's hand. "You disguised your betrayal with a smaller one. Brilliant."

Paine looked down at the hair. "Twenty years," she whispered. Her voice was entirely hollow. "I gave him twenty years of devotion. I bled for him. He forgot I existed the second that boy walked through the door."

Minjo considered this. "He told you it was going to be you."

"I was the strongest of his disciples," Paine said. "MasterGin had been preparing for centuries. I thought I was the culmination of it all. The pinnacle of his achievement. But I wasn't. None of us were."

The shame left Paine's voice. What replaced it was worse.

"I followed the false god," Paine said, her voice dropping to a fierce whisper. "And I was envious of the real one."

Paine sank to her knees. She bowed her head deeply, almost pressing her forehead against the dusty floorboards.

"I didn't understand, but I do now. Someone appeared by chance. Seemingly unworthy. And..."

"Chaos," Minjo interrupted flatly. "Just the kind of surprise a god of chaos would find funny."

"No." She shook her head. "Jihoon is one of us. A Child of Apophis. He has to be. He's the Lost One. Please accept my apology," Paine whispered to the floor. "My envy blinded me. I will serve the true Chosen One. As the advocate of Yoon Jihoon, how may I assist you?"

Minjo looked at the blurred shape of the woman kneeling before her. She didn't offer comfort. She didn't offer a speech about forgiveness. The variables of their survival had just changed. She needed to exploit them.

Minjo dusted off her knees and rose.

"Can you get us into the ceremony?"

"Yes."

"Good. I need to know exactly what happened to Jihoon when he entered Club Apophis. I need the logistics of the Opening of the Mouth ceremony, Monstrum, the Old Ways." Minjo reached out and found the silver strands by feel, lifting them from Paine's hand. "And I'll be taking this mutant DNA sample. Thank you for your assistance."




For those still following along for the continuing storyline, this chapter just revealed who the Magic Mirror is in my cyberpunk horror retelling of Snow White. Paine is the mirror to MasterGin's evil queen. lol The Prince and the Huntsman will be revealed, as well as wrapping up the character arcs for Lisa, Ghost, Echo and Jihoon. I estimate there are roughly 4 more chapters left and an epilogue. What a journey!

This post was inspired by the series and wonderful items on this round of Engine Room which ends tomorrow. The setting has so many lovely things, and both outfits are gorgeous.   ...On MasterGin is the Nixon outfit by OneDays. It's one-piece outfit you buy in a single color or fatback.   ...On the long suffering Paine is the Rebis Scholar Garments. It comes in fits for men and women. It has textures in PBR that give the metallic edges sparkle, and a tattered hem.   ...From Milkbath is the Censer. Just wear it and it will trigger a 1 of 4 poses which you can alter in the texture hud. It comes in left and righted version, swing, and non swing.   .... From Cult is the Cornelia boots (shown below) for female avatars. The boots include gear details, and a spooky spinal vertebra heel. They are elegant gothic style with metallic details. But I really love the suede texture options, along with the leather.   ...The Bedroom set is by Eclectica. It includes the bed, dressers, mirrors, and lamps. The mirrors are PBR and will reflect the environment. It comes with a texture hud to change the metal color, and fabrics.   ...From Lore is the Captain's Lounge Chair, tables, and lamp. They are PBR with a hud to change the chair textures.   ...Also from Lore is matching skybox, Nemo's study. Its fantastic with elegant PBR textures.   ...From Duplexity is an art deco Radio.   ...From Ishiku is another stunning crystal glass set, Vintage Floral Decanter. It's mod, so I tinted it green to match my theme.   ...From Puddles is the Royal Scribe's Collection with lectern, feather pen, and book stack.   ...From Apika is the spooky Madame Palmelope, a hand holding a teacup, that when touched, will give you your fortune.   ..In the back, is the Architect Volta fireplace. I tinted the flames green for a spooky effect.

The Apophis series will be taking a break for the first time in almost a year, as I shift to blogging the Fantasy Faire. Be looking forward to it.  Apophis will return after that. 


On Her, Nurse Paine:
Outfit: REBIS - Scholar Garments . LaraX . OMNIPACK [mesh](Engine Room)(2000L)
Censer, pose: MILKBATH - Samael Censer [mesh](Engine Room)(799L)
Boots: CULT - Cornelia [mesh](Engine Room)(369L)
Headdress: ONEDAYs - UNHOLY HEADRESS [UNRIGED]
Hair: Limerence - Tamesis hair [mesh](990L)
Gloves: ContraptioN - Dapper Dandy's Glove, Maitreya [mesh]
Tears: SAXO - Bleeding Eyes lel EVOX Unisex [BOM]
Eyes: VelvetVue - Hibrida blue eyes :: sclera #1 [BOM]
Skin: VOGLIA - ELEKTRA Skin, EvoX, Icy With Brows [BOM]
Head, eyes: LeLUTKA - RAVEN 4.0 [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops - Legacy (f) Special Edition (Basic) 1.2 [mesh]

On Him, MasterGin:
Outfit: ONEDAYs - NIXON OUTFIT, Black, LEGACY [mesh](Engine Room)(350L)
Shoes: Deadwool - Dandy shoes - non rigged - black/silver wingtip [mesh](360L)
Claws: L'Emporio&PL - Oblio Vampire Claws male [mesh](350L)
Hair: bonbon - tame hair, naturals [mesh](439L)
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

Setting:
Bedroom set: Eclectica - Steampunk Bed [mesh](Engine Room)(850L)
Chairs. tables, lamp: LORE - Captain's Lounge Chair [mesh](Engine Room)(1700L)
Radio: Duplexity - Aetherys Lux Radio - Wood/Gold [mesh](Engine Room)(299L)
Glass set: ISHIKU - Vintage Floral Crown Decanter Dispenser [mesh](Engine Room)(490L)
Books, scroll, feather pen: Puddles - Royal Scribe's Collection [mesh](Engine Room)(300L)
Hand, teacup: Apika - Madame Palmelope [mesh](Engine Room)(499L)
Fireplace: Architect - Volta Fireplace [mesh]
Skybox: LORE - Nemo's Study [PBR] [mesh]

BONUS IMAGES: inworld raw shot, hi-res, midday sky.




Thursday, November 27, 2025

Salvage Station: The Pen (Escape from Club Apophis, 28)

(click to enlarge)


STORYLINE: Lisa Liemawr held her phone up like a holy relic in a cathedral of rust.

“Welcome back, Dragonlets!” Her voice hit that perfect, chirpy register, the one that usually sold energy drinks and scandal. “It’s your girl Lisa, coming to you with the exclusive from…”

She dropped her voice to a haunted stage-whisper.

“…The Forbidden Zone.”

She fluttered "spooky fingers" at the lens.

The bold and brash Hexa Herald reporter checked her reflection in the black screen before the recording started. It was a disaster. Her bangs clung to her forehead in greasy, tragic ropes. Her eyeliner was a smudge of war paint.

“No glamour filters today. #NoMakeupChallenge: Hellscape Edition,” she said, crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue. "Today’s vlog is pre-recorded since Wi-Fi here is literally nonexistent, and my battery was raised from the dead via sketchy Monstrum Tech, thanks to our secret mole. #HumanSympathizer. Yay for having enough juice to record my last will and testament! Say hi to the fans, team!”

She whipped the phone around with influencer bravado.

The lens struggled to focus, grainy and grey. It swept across a row of rusted, modular housing units stacked like coffins under a flickering green sign: ATOMIC ESTATES.

Huddled in the long, jagged shadow of the structures were the captured students of Jae Won University. "The Avengers have assembled, folks." But they didn't look like heroes. They looked like refuse.

Ghost wasn’t looking at the camera. He was crouched against a corrugated wall, eyes scanning the laser perimeter like a caged wolf, his fingers tapping a silent, frantic rhythm against his thigh. Calculating.

“Check out the latest in post-apocalyptic streetwear,” Lisa narrated, zooming in on Kyra’s torn pants and the found scrap metal doubling as a prosthetic leg. “Derelicte. So hot right now.”

“Put the phone away, Lisa.”

Kyle Baek surged forward, his hand filling the frame. He didn't look like the sarcastic guard anymore; he looked haunted.

“We are in a concentration camp,” he growled, shoving the camera down. “People here look half-dead. Have some respect.”

Lisa gasped, pulling the phone back and feigning outrage. “It’s called a documentary, Kyle. If we die, I want my autopsy report to pull at least five hundred thousand views.” She turned the camera back on him, zooming in until his furious, dirt-streaked eyebrows filled the frame. “Tell us, Kyle, how does it feel knowing your little dare to Jihoon landed us in Monster Disneyland?”

Kyle flinched as if she’d slapped him. His eyes went wet, then hard. He didn't speak. He just smacked the phone out of her hand.

The camera spun wildly, ...sky, dirt, sky, capturing a blur of dense gray fog and the high-voltage shimmer of the fence. It landed with a thud, face-up.

Auto-focus adjusted. It locked onto what loomed above the camp.

Projected against the dark, smog-choked sky was a massive holographic poster. It showed Jihoon, no, Lathandro, clad in radiant white, luminous and holy, eyes downcast like a golden messiah forgiving their sins.

WELCOME HOME, LATHANDRO.

Lisa knelt to scoop up the phone, her hair brushing the lens. She paused, seeing the image on her screen. The bravado slipped, just for a second.

“That, my followers, is why we are here,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Nerdy nobody becomes Prince Charming of Monsters. Crazy, am I right?”

She aggressively wiped the lens on her sleeve. “Anyway, here’s the 411. We’re trapped in a radioactive 1950s sitcom running on sewer fumes and despair.”

She swung the camera toward Minjo. The robotics genius was sitting on a pile of scrap, grimly sharpening a stick against a rock.

“What do you think, Girl Genius? Are we glowing yet?”

Minjo stared at her as though Lisa were a misfiring toaster. “No. The radiation warnings are a deception to hide what's really powering The Zone.”

“Oooooh, conspiracy time. Whisper it to Lisa… and to my future Pulitzer committee.”

Minjo didn’t whisper. She lunged.

Thwack.

Her sharpened stick speared a mutant rat inches from Lisa’s boot. It screeched once, then went still. Minjo lifted the fresh kill by the tail, staring dead-eyed into the lens.

“I’m calling it the Entropy Engine,” Minjo said flatly.

“Right...” Lisa side-stepped her, as if Minjo was the first to go insane. “And speaking of despair...”

POOF.

Strawberry-scented smoke billowed around them, too sweet for the filth it drifted through.

“Whoa! Caught in 4K!” Lisa shouted, jumping back as Ghost instantly leveled his own sharpened stick at the pink haze.

The smoke cleared. Standing there, immaculate in a white suit that defied the grime of the camp, was Romance. He looked like he had just stepped off the stage at Inkigayo, smelling of crushed flowers and ozone.

“That, Dragonlets, is a bona fide Jeoseung Saja,” Lisa narrated, masking her relief. “Blink and you missed his career. Give it up for Saja Boy’s own DJ Romance!” She added fake cheering noises. “Tell us, how does a soul-sucking idol end up guarding Hell’s worst zip code?”

Romance covered the lens with a manicured hand. “Stop recording. You want to get us caught? The Children of Apophis have eyes everywhere.”

“No can do, my Maestro of Pink,” Lisa said, ducking under his arm with the agility of a paparazzo. “Lisa’s gotta scoop just as much as a fish’s gotta swim. If I don’t film, I get anxious. And when I get anxious, I cry. And when I cry, I get blotchy. Nobody wants that.”

He sighed. Then his gaze fell on Kyra.

“Kyra,” he said softly.

Lisa zoomed in tight.

The cheerleader was slumped against a crate. Her skin was a terrifying greyish-blue, and the neon veins in her neck flickered ominously. Her cybernetics whined with the brittle, dying-hard-drive sound of something begging for mercy.

“I’m... fine,” she wheezed. “Just... low power mode.”

“Liar,” Romance murmured.

He checked his surroundings, then reached into his pristine jacket. He pulled out a chip with the Monstrum logo on it. It buzzed with energy and smelled faintly of cotton candy.

He knelt, brushing a strand of dirty hair from her face. With the gentleness of a bomb disposal expert, he slotted the chip into the port behind her ear.

Kyra arched, light washing through her like a pink sunrise. Her optics flared, then stabilized. She gasped, color returning to her cheeks. “Better,” she breathed.

Romance smiled, that practiced, devastating idol smile that had once been plastered on bedroom walls.

Lisa whispered into the microphone. “#ForbiddenLove. One-hit wonder rocks the cradle with a cyborg. Leave your comments below.”

“I heard that,” Romance snapped, standing up. “She’s a college student. Shut your mouth.”

In the background, Ghost watched them, face emotionless. But the camera caught it: the precise moment his hand snaked out. While Romance was distracted defending Kyra’s honor, Ghost pickpocket the Idol and slid the ill-gotten gains into his wrist-mount with a surgeon’s stealth. His Halo-gloves, dead since the boundary, flickered. A tiny, pale blue light pulsed once.

Access.

Ghost hid his hands instantly. But he stiffened.

High above, on a rusting catwalk, a familiar figure stirred, black robes, amber eyes.

Hwan.

Ghost went statue still.

He locked eyes with the Guardian. Hwan had seen the theft. He had seen everything.

Romance was still fussing over Kyra, oblivious. Hwan could have shouted. He could have alerted the Nuns from hell.

Instead, the figure in the tower slowly turned his back.

Permission.

Ghost let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Suddenly, a loudspeaker crackled. A cheerful, tinny jingle played, a distorted, minor-key version of Mr. Sandman played on a broken xylophone.

“Attention, Happy Residents! It is time for the Gratitude Feast! Please proceed to the trough for your daily calorie intake!”

“The trough. Great.” Lisa gagged. “Okay, Pinkie. What’s going on?”

“It’s a mandatory celebration,” Romance said grimly, looking up at the glowing poster of Lathandro. “Master Gin is happy his ‘son’ has returned. So everyone must celebrate too.”

“…Right.” Lisa clicked her tongue, forcing the smile back on. She slapped Plague on the back; he jumped a foot in the air. “Let’s go review the catering, Nerd Snack.”

Lisa followed the shuffling crowd to the center of the plaza. The "Feeder," a man with a scarred face and a butcher’s apron, was happily ladling grey sludge into cupped hands, humming a nursery rhyme.

“Look at them,” Plague whispered, nudging Lisa. “They’re eating it like it’s five-star dining.”

He was right. The residents were shoving the flavorless paste into their mouths with frantic, mindless hunger.

“Okay, Dragonlets. Today on ‘Dystopian Eats,’ we have...” She zoomed in on the grey, bubbling sludge being ladled out of a rusted oil drum. “...Protein paste? Porridge? It smells like wet dog and pennies.”

“Okay," Lisa whispered. "Taste test.”

She took a tiny, tentative sip of the grey soup.

“Oh god.” She coughed, squeezing her eyes shut. “It tastes like sadness. Zero stars. Would not recommend.”

She lowered the cup, wiping her mouth. As she did, the camera panned across the crowd, capturing something off.

She zoomed in on a man’s neck as he swallowed.

“Whoa,” she mumbled.

Glowing softly under the grime of his skin were rune tattoos. They pulsed in time with his heartbeat. *Thump-glow. Thump-glow.*

“Marked,” Plague whispered, shivering. “Like inventory. All of them have it.”

Lisa wandered away from the trough, looking for better content—anything to distract from the glowing necks. She found Echo near the drainage outflow, kneeling in the mud.

“Echo?” Lisa gasped, zooming in. “Doing some spring cleaning?”

The camera panned across a neatly hanging row of used tin cans and rocks arranged in a pleasing geometric shape. A garden of garbage.

But Echo was acting strange. Regressed. She was digging in the mud with frantic, childlike intensity.

“What did you get there? A hidden gem? The key to getting out?”

Echo froze. Slowly, she lifted something from the mud.

A teddy bear. Or, it used to be. It was soiled with clay, missing one eye, its fur matted. Next to it lay a small red ball, deflated with age.

Lisa felt the air leave her lungs. The snark died in her throat.

“Lisa?” Echo asked, holding the bear out gently. Her voice was small. “I think... I think I can fix him. I can replace the missing eye with my shirt button...”

“Stop,” Lisa whispered. Then, louder. “Stop right now.”

She stared at the bear. Then she looked toward the edge of the camp, where the drainage pipe poured dark, oily water into the fog. A river that flowed *out* from the city.

“Echo,” Lisa said, her voice shaking violently. “I need you to do me a favor. Find me a bottle. A plastic bottle. Airtight.”

Echo handed the dirty bear to Lisa and darted off.

Lisa held the bear up to the camera. Her hands were trembling.

She stared at the lens. The mask was gone. The influencer was gone. There was only a terrified girl holding a piece of evidence.

“I had one of these,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Back when I thought monsters weren’t real.”

She zoomed in on the missing eye.

“Okay, folks... Time to get real.”

Tears welled in her eyes, hot and angry. She didn't wipe them away.

“This belongs to a child. A child who probably chased that red ball across the barrier. A kid who never came home.”

“Lisa, please,” Plague appeared at her side, looking terrified. “Keep your voice down. Let’s not draw attention—”

She tore her arm away. “Keep it down? “You think I’m being too loud?” She slammed the ball into his chest. “Tell that to the parents still stapling ‘Missing’ posters to rain-warped bulletin boards. Tell them their babies aren’t lost! They’re here! They’re livestock!”

She wiped her nose with her sleeve—a messy, unglamorous motion

“I will not rest until the world knows about this disgusting place. #ParentsDeserveToKnow.”

She shoved the phone into Plague’s hands.

“Film every face you can find in this cursed place,” she commanded.

Suddenly, a low, heavy thrumming sound echoed from the main gates. The ground vibrated.

The eating stopped. The residents froze, eyes wide with a conditioned terror.

The rusted gates groaned open.

Through the fog rolled a procession of vehicles that belonged in a museum or a nightmare. Vintage Rolls Royces drifted through the fog like funeral carriages.

Figures stepped out — gowns shimmering like spilled oil, jewels blinking like predator eyes.
They crossed the filth with the bored amusement of aristocrats at a petting zoo.

Lisa stared, horrified. “What... what is happening?”

Romance stepped up beside her, his face grim.

“The Gratitude Feast,” he whispered, watching the elites take their seats around the stage. “The humans eat first to look plump for the buyers. And now...”

He gestured to the vampires raising their auction paddles.

“...Now the real feast begins.”



Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I hope you all enjoy this ambitious post, (7 characters all in one post. The "7 Dwarfs" together at last). There are lots of sweet post apocalyptic goodies from Salvage Station in this. (And if you look hard, you might even spot Jihoon "Snow White" making a cameo.)  Gobble Gobble


On her, front row left to right, Lisa Liemawr (Happy):
Outfit: FenDuDu - Wasteland Verdict, fatpack [mesh](Salvage Station)(3688L)
Hair: CAMO - Nyx Braids  [mesh](Salvage Station)(699L)
Head, eyes, skin: LOGO - Dawn Desert Nomad [mesh]
Body: Meshbody - Legacy (f) Special Edition (Basic) 1.2 [mesh]
Group Pose: 10sai - Group Pose Stand #WEFIE

On her, Kyra (Sleepy):
Guest Appearance: Aarya Phantomhive, of the Dark Phantom blog.
Pants: AsteroidBox - Deteriorate Pants [mesh](Salvage Station)(289L)
Jacket: CHANDRA - Hyperion Jacket Reborn FATPACK [mesh](Salvage Station)(275L)
Jaw: Evil Baby - Jaws - Accessory [mesh](Salvage Station)(349L)
Makeup: eyecing - Ieku - eyes - liner [mesh](Salvage Station)(30L)
Tattoo: Nefekalum - Salvaged Armor - Polished 02 // Full Tattoo [mesh](Salvage Station)(199L)
Tattoo: SOMEONE - Infected Wounds - Face, Body, Eye [mesh](Salvage Station)(550L)
Tattoo: Fallen Gods - Skychylde, female body +FGInc.+ Canary PG [mesh](Salvage Station)(gift)
Makeup: Stelio - Grungy Eyepaint - Black (EvoX) [mesh](Salvage Station)(gift)
Collar: Cruel - Sulfur Gorget - Legacy F
Hair: A&Y - Medusa Cyber hair 2, multicolor [mesh]
Head, eyes: LeLUTKA - lel EvoX LILLY 3.1 [mesh](3990L)
Body: Maitreya - Mesh Body Lara [mesh](2750L)

On her, Echo (Dopey):
Helmet: Waffle Science & Research - [W] Civil Defender [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)
Outfit: The Muses - Triste Bouffon - Ivory [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)
Hair: Sintiklia - Lillith head 1 Fitted, colors ombres [mesh]

On her, front, Minjo (Doc):
Outfit: BEARCAT.EGG - Mira Top, Skirt, Legacy [mesh](Salvage Station)(500L)
Pet: AxisMundi - Bittersync-(B)ox-Hand L [animesh](Salvage Station)(800L)
Goggles: MILKBATH - Axel Goggles - Unrigged [mesh](Salvage Station)(399L)
Hair: NI.JU Tomtom Hair, naturals [mesh]

On him, back row left to right, Ghost (Bashful):
Scanner: Starlit Endeavor - Nomada Scanner, yellow [mesh](Salvage Station)(300L)
Cowl: SOMNIUM - Outlander [mesh](Salvage Station)(350L)
Coat: SOMNIUM - Outlander [mesh](Salvage Station)(350L)
Mask: Pucca Firecaster Creations - PFC Ninja (Male) [mesh]
Headband: Last Ride - 47 Samurai/Headband back [mesh]
Pants: REBIS - Werk Trousers [mesh](350L)
Gloves: Archivefaction - Penumbra Gloves_Legacy M_Slim Fingers [mesh]
Head: LeLUTKA Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

On him, back middle, Plague (Sneezy):
Helmet: Apika - Femm of War - Helmet [mesh](Salvage Station)(350L)
Shoes: CULT - Wasteland - Legacy M [mesh](Salvage Station)(369L)
Outfit: toksik - Invasion Top (Legacy M) (Black)
Cape: toksik - Invasion Cape M (Unrigged)
Gloves: Archivefaction - Penumbra Gloves_Legacy M_Slim Fingers [mesh]
Scar: Cubic Cherry - Decay [BOM, Materials]
Makeup: maledictus - Lacrimosa, red [BOM]
Hair: Dura U122 -A: Men's [mesh]
Head: LeLUTKA Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

On him, Kyle (Grumpy):
Outfit: ONEDAYs - CLOUD OUTFIT - LEGACY [mesh](Salvage Station)(350L)
Tattoo: AURO - The Prophet : White // 25 // EVOX  [mesh](Salvage Station)(450L)
Necklace: HAUNT - Choke Chain [mesh](Salvage Station)(299L)
Sleeves: REBIS - Junkyard Sleeves . LegacyM, yellow [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)
Hair: TRASH - Lucifer w/o Horns V1 - Rainbow pack [mesh]
Eyes: Mana - Jelly Eyes, Clear [BOM] (Midnight Order)(399L)
Skin: MUDSKIN Hajimu, C, Brow, WINTER(gacha)(The Arcade)(75L)
Glasses: SOLE SA, Glasses Penta CP, Black [mesh](339L)
Head: LeLUTKA Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)


Setting:
Neighborhood: LORE Atomic Estates Fatpack [mesh](Salvage Station)(1200L)
Bench: Dirty Rat - Derelict Bench [mesh](Salvage Station)(415L)
Cart: Dirty Rat - Derelict Cart [mesh](Salvage Station)(375L)
Billboard: Dirty Rat - Vintage Billboard w/o probe [mesh]
Bathroom: Eclectica - Wasteland Bathroom Set  [mesh](Salvage Station)(395L)
Picture frames: NI.JU - Broken Frame Set [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)
Picture frames: NI.JU - Old N' Worn Frame Set [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)
Alarm Stystem: Puddles - Tin Can Trap, Soft linked [mesh](Salvage Station)(200L)
Jeweler's work area: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler  [mesh](Salvage Station)(395L)
Desk: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler - Desks [mesh](Salvage Station)(275L)
Toolboxes: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler - Toolboxes [mesh](Salvage Station)(160L)
Necklace display: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler - Necklaces [mesh](Salvage Station)(160L)
Welders: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler - Hand Welders [mesh](Salvage Station)(160L)
Lamp: Duplexity - Nuk-a-Lamp (Ceiling) [mesh](Salvage Station)(249L)
Dunes: Fundati - Beach Cliffs C1 [mesh]

BONUS IMAGES: character shots, inworld raw shot, hi-res, midday sky.  








Thursday, November 6, 2025

Camp Syndicate: The Ice Cream Man (Escape from Club Apophis, 24)


(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: Jingle. Jingle. Jingle.

The sound wandered through the dark forest like a lost child,  an ice-cream cart’s bells ringing a melody of fossilized joy.

He let it play. Even monsters could be nostalgic; childhood memories were the last to die.

The porcelain mask pressed cool against his face, its smile painted on. Beneath it, his breath smelled of wet earth, rust and sugar.

He pushed the cart through a carpet of needles and broken glass, the wheels whispering over bones of old roads and people.

He stopped to wipe a dark stain from his crisp white jacket,  an old spill that would never come out. A reminder of the last mess he’d cleaned.

He listened. No wind. No insects. The forest here had forgotten how to live. Only the fading echo of tiny bells.

Then a click.
A whisper not his own.

Through the twin holes of the mask, he saw them: four intruders, half-hidden by ferns and moonlight, crouched near the shimmer of the Forbidden Zone’s boundary.

Children.

Their lights blinked; their voices were too loud, their hearts too bright. Fumbling with toys. Breaking the silence. They didn’t see the slithering shadows moving in the trees.

He tilted his head, listening.

The air vibrated with a sound he couldn’t hear but felt in his teeth.

One of them, the girl with violet stripes on her sleeves, was kneeling beside a box. Not a toy. A thing armored in scales so black it swallowed the moonlight. Even from here, he could feel it humming in his skull, a low-frequency scream, the psychic howl of something that did not belong in this world.

He flinched. They didn’t know what they’d touched. They didn’t know the rules.

He parked the cart. The jingle stuttered, then died with a final, off-key plink. He lifted the lid. The cheerful logo inside peeling and slashed with dried blood. His arsenal waited in neat rows: Raspberry. Chocolate. Strawberry Swirl.

His hand hesitated. Then: Vanilla.

The hammer was heavy, worn, reliable. Vanilla never let him down.

He moved through the trees without a sound, the damp trunks closing around him like a whisper. 

Every step erased a sound. The crickets stopped. The wind forgot itself.

The intruders were right ahead, still arguing.
The shimmer pulsed against their faces, painting them ghost-pale.
They made the bad box glow. They made it talk.

He watched with amber eyes as the girl’s hands trembled over the bad box. He could smell her fear.

Closer now.

Close enough she could see the reflection of his porcelain smile in dark glass of her device.

She looked up, sensing it. Her breath caught.

He raised the hammer. The jingle echoed once in his mind like a heartbeat.

And he brought it down.



This post was inspired by the outfit and theme of Camp Syndicate, the Slasher Movie genre.



On Him, the Ice Cream Man:
Outfit, mask, Hat: SOMNIUM - Mr. Sundae Set Bloody Legacy M/A [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(2250L)
Weapon: Krova - CLAW Hammer [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(350L)
Hands: Aii - Demonic Touch, bom/fingers, Legacy M [mesh]
Tattoo: HISS - PATTERNS BODY 2 - FADING TINT [BOM]
Shoes: 
L&B - LEGACYfit* Swear Old School Low Tops - Noir [mesh]
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

Setting:
Lantern: Oblivis - The Last Light STEEL [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(285L)
Gun: FOE x Nidhogg - Carbine Ax [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(499L)
Body parts: Whats Lost Spirits - Walk it off Body parts Pack [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(600L)
Hatchet, Hammer: Arts&Gear - *AG *CampingTools [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(300L)
Axe, Baseball bat, Boat oar: Puddles - Camp Weapons  [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(200L)
Knife, Blood: Evil Baby - Killer's Tattoo [BOM](Camp Syndicate)(350L)
Cart: BONDI - Ice Cream Small Cart, 12 Pink-Silver COMMON [mesh]

Location:

BONUS IMAGES: inworld raw shot, hi-res, midday sky.