idiotshroud



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    “Glad to see you back among the living,” Phainon says through a yawn, clearly having spent the night in the uncomfortable chair in the infirmary by Mydei’s side. Like he often does.

    Mydei’s head hurts. Just the regular kind of pain, easily managed by ignoring it until it goes away. But what makes it worse, is the confusion at his predicament. The memories returning to him in death used to vary in time and people who appeared in them. Why is it always Phainon nowadays?

    “Fuck you,” Mydei says, hoarsely. He feels like he is losing his mind.

    Phainon’s mouth locks mid-yawn and he blinks down at him stupidly, tilting his head with confusion. It’s probably fair, he hasn’t even done anything to earn Mydei’s ire as of late.

     

    or; Human brain lives for a few more minutes after dying, replaying the most cherished memories. Mydei starts seeing Phainon after each of his deaths.

     

    Translation into Russian (Русский) available: here
    Translation into Chinese (中文-普通话 國語) available: here

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    3/3
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    10 Jun 2026

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    Irontomb no longer exists, or maybe it never existed at all. Amphoreus greets the universe beyond the skies, broken but determined to see the real future on the horizon.

    It's a happy ending, but Phainon feels as if the entire world is falling on top of him like rocks, as if he's drowning in the sudden reality of it all like a sailor lost at sea.

    So he makes the only choice he can think of: he runs away.

    A ragtag group of Crysos Heirs and two experts on interstellar travels follow him.

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    08 Jun 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 78

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    I’m a killin’ machine, Boothill once told him. I know far more about bullets than I do about flowers ‘n the like.

    Perhaps, Argenti had replied, and you are beautiful.

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    27 May 2026

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    “Why do they throw flowers?”

    “They’re well-wishes,” Phainon answers. “Crocuses are for new beginnings, cyclamen are for love, colchicum for fidelity. They’re blessing the marriage.”

    Mydei’s hand shifts a little lower, warm fingers circling Phainon’s wrist. “Your traditions are terribly sentimental.”

    “Romantic,” Phainon corrects. “Just call them romantic.”
    |
    To save his people, Mydei strikes a deal. Aid in exchange for two things: the coreflame of Strife and his hand in marriage.

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    27 May 2026

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    Mydei stares at him, sucking in a sharp breath. Heat burns in his golden eyes, and his lips curl in a surprised but pleased smile. “You’re not half bad yourself,” Mydei says.

    “Thanks?”

    “At first, I couldn’t tell if you were a dumb jock who stumbled into a doctoral candidacy or a genuinely brilliant mind that won the genetic lottery,” Mydei drawls.

    Doctoral candidate Phainon walks into the special collections in search of a rare book and finds a rare librarian. Mydei is not impressed.

    Language:
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    24 May 2026