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okaywolfWritten to the prompt by Making Up Robots cohost prompt account — Magical boy who has some worrisome tattoos
Horacz is a character of mine from fifteen-plus years ago, this is yet another prompt where I went “oh hey, I have that already” (first was time wizard, second was cyberpunk hacker). I used to RP with him (I miss RPing so damn much) in various people with powers genres, and drew him with his anime-ass eyes plenty in my notebooks. At some point I drew “bizarro Horacz” consoling him, and their story in its entirety immediately materialized for me but I never wrote it.
Originally posted on cohost on June 8th, 2024.
They're not so worrisome at first. A black scrawl in unidentifiable and densely packed text; characters and jagged edges much too small for the level of definition of any ink and penetration method of tattoo. They start from his spine at the base of his ribcage, spreading like a water spill and wrapping around his chest.
But Horacz travels leagues in a step, wakes up drowning in the ocean if he rolls over in his sleep, sees the shattered pupil of his left eye when he looks in the mirror—so they’re not so worrisome.
He starts to worry when the scrawl reaches his fingertips and the little jagged characters appear on his nail beds, still legible through the windows of his nails if there were anyone who could read them. He starts to worry when the scrawl reaches his ears and crawls _inside_. He starts to worry when the whites of his eyes are filled with the densely packed text.
"Think it'll fade? Or..."
Sitting opposite the good one, Horacz shrugs. His iced coffee is mostly melted, the cup’s condensation a warm puddle, the patio umbrella of this streetside cafe alleviates none the summer city heat. "I figure it's heralding the end.”
Shou sucks his teeth and watches the street for a moment, avoiding Horacz's unbother at an unavoidable death. "Sorry about that."
"Sure."
Neither of them actually know what the scrawl means. What they know is Horacz is a manifestation of objective evil and Shou is his opposite. Shou is supposed to end Horacz, at the end of everything. But instead of plots and plans to foil, Horacz's traumas made him broken, shattered, and conflict avoidant. He doesn’t hurt anyone, nevermind any world-ending master plans. He spent his days travelling the world and depending on the kindness of strangers for meals and a place to rest his head where he'd wake only on the other side of the room instead of an ocean, a desert, a mountain peak, the center lane of a highway; anywhere that isn’t a panic.
They happened upon each other because fate was unavoidable that way. And because Shou was the protective caring sort, he did everything he could to make Horacz’s life okay. Somewhere to stay when Horacz was somewhere Shou could line a place up, ordering takeout from the other side of the world, sitting like this together when Horacz was in town. They used to go to shows together too, used to hitchhike together, used to sit in the woods or a barren field and cry together about the cruelty of fate.
Horacz is exploring yet another ghost town when the first worm emerges. It had been a while since the scrawl had finished its visible spread. He and Shou hadn’t talked about if they were then blanketing him internally, but he was pretty sure they were and the first worm came once it had finished.
It’s an inky black thing, with translucent billowing fins that flitted about as it floated about like a fish in water.
Horacz watches its touch dismantle a concrete building.
He spends a week in a room filled with every mirror he can find to catch where the next worm comes from. It crawls out of his ear.
He was asleep when the next one crawls out of his eye, the eye with the intact pupil, waking up to it prying its way out between his eyelids.
Shou meets him outside of a small town just large enough for a coffee shop. He hands Horacz an iced coffee and sits next to him on the concrete barrier of a mid-construction abandoned fork of highway. When Horacz is done explaining the worms, the two of them are sitting on the ground leaning back against the barrier.
“Can you control them?”
Horacz knows Shou will do anything to put off the inevitable. Shou knows Horacz will give up at the first sign he’s a danger.
“Shou, I think it’s time you kill me.”
“Have you tried controlling them?”
The long, slow sigh Horacz breathes into the partial ruin of otherwise the depths of wilderness tells Shou to at least give it a break. He holds up a hand, more scrawl than not, to the blue sky and wheeling eagle above.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
Notes on original character design:
Horacz’s teleportation powers are based on Tay al-Ard, because I was just getting into Islam when I created him
Horacz’s right eye had a tadpole-shaped pupil that swims in a circle when he’s agitated, a sign of the worms to come
Shou is an intimidating spike-covered punk and Horacz wears whatever neutral inoffensive outfit the situation calls for to avoid standing out
because inherent evil, some percentage of any given crowd of people will suddenly become inhospitable or even violent towards Horacz and afterwards experience confusion
Note that didn’t make it into this piece:
Horacz refuses to know Shou’s power so he can’t try to instinctually save himself when it comes time for Shou to kill him
Horacz is a character of mine from fifteen-plus years ago, this is yet another prompt where I went “oh hey, I have that already” (first was time wizard, second was cyberpunk hacker). I used to RP with him (I miss RPing so damn much) in various people with powers genres, and drew him with his anime-ass eyes plenty in my notebooks. At some point I drew “bizarro Horacz” consoling him, and their story in its entirety immediately materialized for me but I never wrote it.
Originally posted on cohost on June 8th, 2024.
~~~
They're not so worrisome at first. A black scrawl in unidentifiable and densely packed text; characters and jagged edges much too small for the level of definition of any ink and penetration method of tattoo. They start from his spine at the base of his ribcage, spreading like a water spill and wrapping around his chest.
But Horacz travels leagues in a step, wakes up drowning in the ocean if he rolls over in his sleep, sees the shattered pupil of his left eye when he looks in the mirror—so they’re not so worrisome.
He starts to worry when the scrawl reaches his fingertips and the little jagged characters appear on his nail beds, still legible through the windows of his nails if there were anyone who could read them. He starts to worry when the scrawl reaches his ears and crawls _inside_. He starts to worry when the whites of his eyes are filled with the densely packed text.
~~~
"Think it'll fade? Or..."
Sitting opposite the good one, Horacz shrugs. His iced coffee is mostly melted, the cup’s condensation a warm puddle, the patio umbrella of this streetside cafe alleviates none the summer city heat. "I figure it's heralding the end.”
Shou sucks his teeth and watches the street for a moment, avoiding Horacz's unbother at an unavoidable death. "Sorry about that."
"Sure."
Neither of them actually know what the scrawl means. What they know is Horacz is a manifestation of objective evil and Shou is his opposite. Shou is supposed to end Horacz, at the end of everything. But instead of plots and plans to foil, Horacz's traumas made him broken, shattered, and conflict avoidant. He doesn’t hurt anyone, nevermind any world-ending master plans. He spent his days travelling the world and depending on the kindness of strangers for meals and a place to rest his head where he'd wake only on the other side of the room instead of an ocean, a desert, a mountain peak, the center lane of a highway; anywhere that isn’t a panic.
They happened upon each other because fate was unavoidable that way. And because Shou was the protective caring sort, he did everything he could to make Horacz’s life okay. Somewhere to stay when Horacz was somewhere Shou could line a place up, ordering takeout from the other side of the world, sitting like this together when Horacz was in town. They used to go to shows together too, used to hitchhike together, used to sit in the woods or a barren field and cry together about the cruelty of fate.
Horacz is exploring yet another ghost town when the first worm emerges. It had been a while since the scrawl had finished its visible spread. He and Shou hadn’t talked about if they were then blanketing him internally, but he was pretty sure they were and the first worm came once it had finished.
It’s an inky black thing, with translucent billowing fins that flitted about as it floated about like a fish in water.
Horacz watches its touch dismantle a concrete building.
He spends a week in a room filled with every mirror he can find to catch where the next worm comes from. It crawls out of his ear.
He was asleep when the next one crawls out of his eye, the eye with the intact pupil, waking up to it prying its way out between his eyelids.
Shou meets him outside of a small town just large enough for a coffee shop. He hands Horacz an iced coffee and sits next to him on the concrete barrier of a mid-construction abandoned fork of highway. When Horacz is done explaining the worms, the two of them are sitting on the ground leaning back against the barrier.
“Can you control them?”
Horacz knows Shou will do anything to put off the inevitable. Shou knows Horacz will give up at the first sign he’s a danger.
“Shou, I think it’s time you kill me.”
“Have you tried controlling them?”
The long, slow sigh Horacz breathes into the partial ruin of otherwise the depths of wilderness tells Shou to at least give it a break. He holds up a hand, more scrawl than not, to the blue sky and wheeling eagle above.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
~~~
Notes on original character design:
Note that didn’t make it into this piece:
