Fallen London gothic
- you wake up in your bed. you don’t remember how you got there. you always wake up in your bed. come to think of it when did you get a bed?
- a serial killer just slit your throat. you now have a few scratches and bruises, but nothing serious.
- you decide to look inside a mirror to see what you look like, but find yourself trapped in another dimension.
- it has been weeks since you’ve seen anyone, yet you could swear you socialize with people everyday.
- today you died. it was the fourth time this week.
- you just got handsomely paid by a incredibly rich man. the payment is worth twelve pennies.
- you can’t remember ever seeing anyone in the Bazaar.
- you sigh as you get your broom. the giant capitalist space bats were back.
- you kill someone. then you do it again. and again. and again.
- you sing to your plant. you always sing to your plant. you can’t remember when you didn’t.
- your neighbors always know when you invite someone over. you don’t have neighbors. you live in the middle of no where.
- you decide to pay a visit to the docks. you swear you just saw yourself, dropping corpses off the side of a boat.
- you are the only person in the world with real money. you spend it on clothes.
- your plant just tried to murder you. better sing to it some more.
- you were exiled for singing to your plant to much, you obviously have romantic affairs with it.
- you sleep with a zombie. you are not entirely sure if it was a man or a woman.
- the dead love you. they haven’t tried to eat you yet. do you smell?
- you fell off your roof an hour ago. you are still falling. the house is only one story high. you were always falling.
- your destiny is to become a god by dying, you can not die.
- you have been hired to kill a man. this is your fourth time doing this contract. you get paid for killing him every time.
- Your aunt has written you again. Which side of the family is she from? How did she find your new address?
- Your home was found after lacre melted, in the chained area that can’t be accessed. You don’t know how you get home anymore. You don’t know the last time you left
- Every week like clockwork you wake up feeling more refreshed. People pay less attention to you overnight, your wounds are suddenly eased, your nightmares fade. Has this always happened?
- The Jovial Contrarian. The Bandage-Entwined Dog-Breeder. The Captivating Princess. When was the last time you learned someone’s actual name? You have always had a title. You have never had a name.
- You change clothes and in the instant the world around you changes. You are less stealthy. You are more perceptive. Your approach is dreaded. The clothes make the man, they say, and you laugh with unease when you consider whether or not this is to be taken literally.
- You’ve purchased children. None of them have names. They all look alike. Where do they stay? With the weasels? The goldfish? You never see your pets or companions unless you have chosen to bring them with you.
- Gained and lost, gained and lost, gained and lost. How many times have you lost your soul and gotten it back? Are you certain this one’s yours?
- The streets are empty. You blink. They are full again. You are alone, but they are all around you, silent, blind, mute, joyous with one another but never with you. They have always been here. They have never seen you before.
- They call you Delicious Friend. Should you worry? You don’t know anymore.
