Ria

Also known as the Match.

She is the Burning Witch of Threaded Rage.

Fanning her flames only makes her worse.

Perhaps that lack of response is what lets friendship happen here?

http://www.farragofiction.com/UnifiedTheory/

http://www.farragofiction.com/APersonalTranscript/

http://www.farragofiction.com/AnUnSentLetter/

http://farragofiction.com/GhoulishThing/

http://www.farragofiction.com/ASecondPersonalTranscript/

http://farragofiction.com/CodexOfRuin/viewer.html?name=The%20MATCH&data=N4IgdghgtgpiBcIAqALGACAsgQSQYQAkQAaEAExgGcBLAc0gBdqB7MBEAGQFoAGLgJQCsJEACdqlANbskAUSRFSDNLErsAyrNn9i6AEx7d-bAHFZug7oDqASXwFdANke6CAeQAK59M+uyAQroAjEEAzLoAYjb83iHh6G7+murqNm4AcsFhugox2AAi6lnxXrJWWsU5-ACqCsUilAwQDGqIsgAacvzp2BzEccQeuDay6UjEXAAcgsQ2+bK9NupINnj92XjV-GnVRdPEHG4Amr0TACxnxKPaZitrFyIwAB4QAMYMADYAngD6yqIwGB-agAB1anF4AkE6EoIJgYDIlHQaFE6CYsHQECREGRAFcoBAwMxqGR0ADKDAIKJXij0OhqGAAG5UJi0ZoM2hotDoRi4gHoZgAMzJlI+1AYXwAdLobMLuHwhDzmOgPqxaDBURSqMjmHD0ILmKjlBhcWBqMzRBSuRh1E0AEbUMUS9AcGDMj7ofIwV4ArFUaXyqHoADujo9dr5YGtIcNH1JhJgwclIgZjQZ73YeGYUCgrF0WZzeYLubAxGLRezJZTYBotBQDHYBDoKFczdbdfbLfQTbrImaTRpsDADcQ5dL6DHZcrFcLpbHIgBIPJNFYjbb3fXPa7W87DXtjvFvw+bpgH3YoQXMDIPwogvhFPYPElwlIwZQ4qBt-vcEQT4A7CIdofG8kg3jAd41j+IBBJKPAiCCEDHmBEEPogMEviA1BQLQPyUNS7D1gwILwAA9CRgpUqIEC0EK1DvCwYCSq82YkQAWtACFmswBDMJ8DKSCRBIMDSkogmAtB7oavwUE0jrgoRxFkRRohUTRgp0UwrBMSx2BgNUYDqPCDCugwDAaiRAA6YBWcxYBgN6LRosqVlWQppHkZR1G0fRWnMVAJEmCgzC4mKlAoKgHKWdZYARISZriciGr6sBqgCmA3zoASkjarSwaGhSkouWAHgaigEBglyzQqiBArCuSIKsFaEghmVDAqjAjmCuI8KIu+ILIuVcJRiiMAAPxFW5SmeWpGkMdp-n6dQ6lXqgMBSVFIhMCCQTsIGiqwj1SK0uiGBYpieIEkSJIihSVI0kl9JMiydDsglxo8s0fIYEKIqIYeyZKKCejsOgsoupCipEiqapJVqR26hgBpGtyprmhqVrvbaEAOk6XwuieHpej6lIUpQAMgFtF6IHt0Khh84aRtGeWiHGmL2UmIAAL5AA

*"She was not such a tall woman, the Keeper. Skinny thing, no real muscle to her, and though she had vigor it was the feverish kind: burning but not healthy."* I was reading this chapter of A Practical Guide to Evil and it seemed perfect for ria, doesn't it? ~ jr

### Soul animal

Parker says her soul has the shape of an Elephant. She feels too big, too loud, too clumsy. She feels she takes up so so much room and her problems are huge and insurmountable and she just wishes she could shrink into herself. She just wishes she could F1X TH1NGS so she could stop burdening the ones she loves

## In the Adventure Sim

*"She winces.*

*Her hand sits there where you left it, shaking like a dog; her skin is both peeling at the seams and unbelievably wet. A drop of sweat trickles onto the floor. It evaporates upon contact.*

*> Uh... hello? Who are you?*

*"**Peewee--**" her voice is hoarse, rasping. Dry. So very, very dry. She swallows and tries again.*

*"Peewee! I-- I wanted to meet you! Gosh I can't believe it's happening, I--" she sucks in a deep breath, the oppressive heat getting just a shade worse.*

*"Peewee I wanted to meet you just once and I knew Camille wouldn't let me but she's not the boss of me at least not anymore because we're all friends and so I KNOW it was bad but I wanted to distract her so we could **talk!"** she gasps it all out in one breath.*

*She stares at you, hopeful. Desperate. Most likely suffering from heat stroke. "I-- I just wanted to say that I can HELP you, Peewee. Be an-- an ally. A partner. Something more? Scratch that last one." She gets red at that. You can't tell if it's because she's embarrassed she said it, or because of the oppressive heat in this theater. "Just-- just say the word. Say the word and we can end it. I'll set you free! I'll do anything."*

*Anything?*

*"Anything you ask."*

*[...]*

*> Can you shortcircuit our hackbrain with sweat perchance?*

*She scratches at her peeling, sopping skin absently. "I'm not really a hacker, but it's not circuits that are the problem. It's- it's-- it's the THREADS, Peewee! " She's pacing in front of you, temperature steadily rising. Smoke is rising from her mouth, threatening to set your skin aflame. "The threads are BINDING you, and, and-- you should be free, and beautiful, and destructive, just like you're meant to be... and I can burn all those strings away. I can see it now. See it in you. "*

*She meets your eyes. The smoke burns through your nostrils. "Be free."*

*And everything goes black.*

*[...]*

*At my words she smiles this blissful, relieved grin, her yellow teeth in full display. A heat blister forms on her hand as she scratches absently at it.  "Of course! That must be why it’s not enough to burn it all down! It's LAYERED!" Triumphantly, desperate for my approval, she gets closer to me even as her heat prickles my skin. My eyes close to spare themselves from the blaze, but they’re boiling beneath my eyelids as she speaks.*

*"We just have to tear it down piece by piece! Don’t you see? It always ends around now, Peewee! And I kept asking why, and of course no one thought it was important, just that it DID, and sometimes its ME that breaks it all and sometimes its NOT, and its hard to THINK about the endings, like they don't matter like they aren't real, because like magic we always wake back up in 1972 even if we're still there in the apocalypse! Don’t you see?!” She’s pulling at her pigtails, threatening to tear them off. “We’re both in the apocalypse and in the new world! How’s that sustainable? How can we keep endlessly copying ourselves? And, and… the copies are never quite the same now, are they? I didn’t heat up like this before! I couldn’t do any of this before! We always twist and change no matter what happens, so why care about the ending, they say? But they don’t-- they don’t see it, Peewee! They don't SEE why the endings are so important! Because without an ENDING how are you going to get a new beginning? A REAL new beginning that leads to a better Universe for us all?!”*

*[...]*

*I see it now, through the eye on my shoulder: that witch collapses to the floor, and she’s sobbing. She gargles and chokes on her own spit, mouth too dry; a flame bursts out of her mouth as it spreads to her hair… she’s lit like a wildfire. The heat’s getting worse. Flames lick her body and they spread to her arms and legs. The stench of cooked meat permeates the whole theater.*

*The flames grow. They grow and grow and grow, somehow keeping the shape of the one who fed them. The very air hums with a song of despair. "*