thanks white zohran
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The most true statement. âIs this on tvtropesâ
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My ears
What a specific allergy
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Forgive my lack of socialism, I wasnât quite enlightened on the bourgeoisie distasteful norm of shoddy lawnmaking
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???
Itâs odd seeing soweli capitalized, I do tend to think of my username as being specifically lowercase soweli. Though I do kind of like how it works here.
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thoughts on sOWELI
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it looks nice, but would probably depend on the context/how i read it, because im kind of between it looking like really loud or the second thing i cant really describe, it looks like something distinctly online and so it just kind of rings. I think it has a nice shape to it too.
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Maybe each soweli written different is a different person⌠like a different mask like⌠gasp⌠a different personaâŚ
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sOWELI wouldnt have worked in the. thing jason wrote about me because it doesnt function the same way most names do, it draws too much attention to itself when the name should be functionally glossed over as a double check on who is doing what. I think lowercase soweli might run into the opposite problem where it looks like just a word and so you cant easily latch onto it to identify the form.
And also i think the ways in the fanfic diverge from my real life make me like the capitalization more
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Why is there soweli fanfiction in the thread
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Theres 64 different capitalizations, i dont know how id bring that many masks with me
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I donât know! Jason just wanted to do that!
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Insane
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Jason âMrrownâ Campbellâs âThe Heroine with Sixty-Four Facesâ.
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let me check AO3, search for soweli andâoh. oh no. do NOT look at the tags on these
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Yeah I am convinced
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Hmmm⌠thatâs not quite right. I canât seem to capture her essence. Jason dragged his hand across his face, letting the weight of his head fall onto his elbow. What would she really think in this situation?
He had vowed to himself that he would complete this Soweli fanfiction before he went off to work this morning, but⌠at this rate, he was going to be late. Something just wasnât clicking, no matter how hard he tried. He picked up his head a little, shook out his hair, and set his focus back to the page.
The first paragraph was fine. A college course seemed the most natural place to set the story, and differential equations were a universal enough topic. And everybody loves disassembling pens, he thought to himself, as he fidgeted with the ink insert that had stained his hand earlier. But how does she get haunted by Fortress of Lies? How would that even realistically work?
Hauntings werenât real, after all, and there was no such site as Fortress of Lies. This was fiction. Any answer would be right, and yet they still all felt wrong.
Jason set down the components of what was once his pen and sighed. His gaze darted acros his desk for inspiration, but met only useless scraps. Sticky notes. Extra pens and pencils, half of which were out of ink. Three empty glasses of water. (Were they still âof waterâ if there was no water left?) His phone, which he picked up and glanced at idly as if heâd learn something new â he didnât, the only thing on screen was a notification of a spam text. Nothing of use⌠nothing of use.
What was I thinking about when I had this idea, anyway? Jason sorted back through his memories. He was doodling idly on a page â to imitate this scene, he picked up a pencil and a sticky note â and he had drawn⌠a little simplified creature. A question mark shape. Two little eyes in its âheadâ. Three more lines for the legs. And then suddenly⌠it came back to him. âSoweliâ appeared in his head, and he heard her thoughts, a fully-fleshed character who reacted to things as he did.
What was next? A pentagon, house-shaped⌠âtomoâ, a building, which he felt construct itself around him. An L-shaped corner. âpiâ, the building was currently featureless, this word preempted a descriotion to come. A circle, with three lines radiating from the top. âtokiâ, speech, and Soweliâs words filled his head. âpiâ again, the speech was muffled and indiscernible, he needed to describe, describe. A line with a dot above it, âlonâ, the truth, that which is, and it all was, everything true was echoing around this building⌠and then an X. âalaâ. The speech inverted, it twisted, the truth turned around, and he heard only lies.
His phone buzzed, but not from his desk, where he knew it certainly was, it was in his pocket, and he sneakily pulled it out under the table, because he didnât want his classmates to notice. He checked the phone â an icon, a magnifying glass with a purple castle inside (no, a fortress, Soweliâs voice corrected him). Visions one after another came to him, all of them real, all of them lies, and suddenly he knew exactly what he was to write on the page.
He picked up the ink insert of the pen. Slid the screw over the tip. Dropped the assembly into the penâs body. Twisted back on the cap. Clicked it once, then began to write without hesitation.
And when he was done, he put his hand on his mouse (which was not there) and clicked a little purple âreplyâ button (which did not exist), and off his story went. Hours later, he would see soweliâs reply on no particular screen: a question about the capitalization of her name. Jason had truly connected himself to the fortress of lies.
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How long did it take you for you to post this
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