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About Literature / Hobbyist Premium Member Cherilyn Ohlau26/Female/United States Groups :iconcheese-lovers: Cheese-Lovers
The deity of dairy products!
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Since my scanner no longer works, I'll be mostly writing up fic and stories. And I'll be writing a lot, and I give myself writing projects.
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>It's Much Too Early To Write... by Mintaka-TK Seriously. /dead

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CherlnIDA
Cherilyn Ohlau
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
Because this muthaflocker needed to be updated. Like I said before, I'm into a variety of things, and I love story and character development. Until I get a new, better scanner since mine is currently out of commission...I'm doing fics and stories instead.
Which vary,
but I'm a GMD fan (look at those fic folders, holy shit)
I promise no love tumors.
Really.
I like well developed relationships instead and ship teasing. I also like subtext. And making readers laugh and cry. I'm mainly doing GMD oriented stuff right now, but I do have plans regarding reviving old stories from my high school years.
I like a nice refreshing take instead of the usual pile, so I consider my works to be a nice variety pill, and none of the works are alike. I also took some artistic license of a few things...but nothing too offensive. Oh, and I do side research regarding the subject of my fics whether it involves music, history, sometimes science. So, you might learn something.
And i'm up for requests, and if you wanna borrow my ocs or even my GMD fcs or something.
Feel free to ask.
Aaand...
I take one-shot requests and such. :dummy:

THEY MUST HAZ GF OR BF by Its-An-InfernoFanfiction by deadrabbit13I write by Kansani
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Look at this fucking stamp tree. Now, I'm ready for Christmas. Stick a star on it! Oh well, just one more:


Works in progress: cherlnida.deviantart.com/journ…


Also: I'm sometimes won't reply to all my thank you's.
Sorry, I'm mostly busy. :<
Interests
Oh GAWD, my sides are hurting when I sleep. :dead: Since I can't sleep, and I've been sick again (screw you, stomach virus!) I'm giving a preview so you can be entertained. I promise after this prologue is finished from my IPAD notes and I'm in better decent health I will work on those fun prompts. :la: Also I've been busy with Red Feather Mine with co-writing. But I've been mostly sicky again...! 
Bastian Lowen Rathbark is a new oc of mine, and counterpart of Bastial. He's named after his same VA as Bastial's, since they're both voiced by Yuri Lowenthal. 
I was drunk off Lovecraft when I came up with the plot, alien horror is very foriegn territory for me to write on. I watched The Thing, Aliens, was uncomfortable sitting through Evangalion for reasons. But I was like "Okay, I'll give it a whirl" and then I gave birth to Black Box Diaries. :dummy: Oh and :icongraciecouture: sorry for borrowing Lyn, I hope you don't mind she's in a horror fic! ^^; 


Bastian's Black Box Diaries

By Cherilyn Ohlau 

The Great Mouse Detective is owned by Eve Titus/Disney

Thomas Grayson is owned by ALS123

John Mikkelson is owned by NightMagican

Birdie Moore is owned by YaraAffinity 

Lyn Webb is owned by GracieCouture 


"I felt myself on the edge of the world; peering over the rim into fathomless chaos of eternal night"- HP Lovecraft

"You've become a virus
Just killing off his host
We've been watching you with all of our eyes
And what you seem to value most
So much potential
Or so we used to say
Your greed, self-importance and your arrogance
You piss it all away
We heard her cry
We've come to intervene
You will change your ways and you will make amends
Or we will wipe this place clean"-Nine Inch Nails, Year 0 "The Warning"


Black Box Diary prologue

-Time Relic-


Perhaps...

Perhaps, it is best if I start from the beginning. I couldn't imagine what had happened to me and my sister during a disaster that wiped our little isolated town from the map all together and threw us into a new century. Your century: 2016 but as for my sister and I we are just but relics from 1910. It Is hard to explain just how we were brought here, or why rather...I wonder if things would have been better if we perished along with our homes. If you are to find any of my modified black boxes that I have tinkered off of abandoned old planes, I keep them as diaries; to tell you that I am Bastian Lowen Rathbark, and these are the horrors that I have witnessed, that no blind eye can turn from such darkness. It breathes, it writhes, it is a serpent from a never ending deep of cold heartless waters. I must sound mad, to the normal person, I must be, but to those teetering on the edge of hopelessness this is my reality. My godforsaken reality that I cannot withstand. I can only hope there is a future for you that you can still work on, but as for me and my sister...we are either dead or gone. Treasure these diaries, and remember and record them...in spite of things, I am still mortal. And I have loved my friends, and my family dearly even it dwindled to just the two of us. 

We moved from our home in London to America, in the sleepy mining town of Greg Town, Massachusetts. Greg Town, it was isolated and away from the bustling cities, and yet it had a train route to a neighboring town that was bigger than ours named Murphy. Greg Town was dull, in a way, but it had the cheapest housing my father could afford at the time and he made a business involving the dead, owning a funeral home, during his spare time he was a writer. The curvy and jagged mountain sides housed many coal to mine, and from there my father made business from the funeral home we made. But my mother tried to stray away from it, possibly to isolate herself from such negativity, and eventually became a school teacher; we had a nanny look after us while our parents worked. As for my sister, Fern, she was taught how to make coffins and was intrigued by engineering, and I looked to writing for solitude. 

My father wrote for himself during his pass times but he never made a career out of it, and his writings were often...how shall I put this, morbid and bleak, are proper terms to such. He'd lost one of friends to a mining accident in 1908, and seeing the heaviness of death around him embedded such sorrow in his heart it was even harder to find an outlet. He threw his booklets aside after he filled them, he was often prolific in his poems. I never considered my father as such, but for what he endured, it was expected. And I grew to realize, my father was slowly hating Greg Town. He felt isolated in this sea of dirt and sand, how the mountains caged his existence than he was back in London, and yet still...he refused to move. There was something about Greg Town keeping him in. He didn't say what it was other than he had to look into it himself, from there, he was isolated and considered a madman. And his questions regarding lights in the sky did not help matters.

I couldn't stop the process of my father becoming a shell of his former self. Even though I tried, it was a waste, and he eventually drowned himself in liquor. He's no longer the man I once called father. And my mother tried her best to stay by him until she too was isolated his sheet of despair. I tried talking to him one night, to talk some sense into him, even if it was left in vain. I just had to let my father know that maybe if he detached himself from such wild claims he wouldn't dwell. 

"You've never seen them in the wheat fields, have you?" My father wheezed, gently holding a beer bottle close to his chest wearing such thick clothing that it made his weak body seem bigger than it was, "Wrapped in bandages, bloodshot eyes, the scent of rot in ships of light that make the stars twinkle."

"Father, please, you were drunk one night and were seeing things. You can't rely on saying such things to the people of Greg Town, even your friends wonder if you're doing all right," I pleaded, grasping his hand. How cold and rough it felt, like sandpaper that was left in the winter wind.

"You make it sound like I'm lying. But it is the truth even if you cannot take it," he coughed, making me grasp tighter, "I talked to one of these things...in the bar. They have warned of me of the coming day when Greg Town shall no longer stand, it will no longer be. It will cease existence."

I try to say something to counter, but my lips coils in fear, "It's...it's merely delusion." 

"See the bandages on my left hand? Will you unwrap it? Then you shall see what they have done unto me."

"I-I thought you said you cut your hand during an accident?" I ask.

"I wouldn't want to worry you."

I was hesitant to unwrap the bandages, my fingers wouldn't stop shaking anxiously as I gently unraveled them, seeing a black scar all around his arm. I couldn't help but think his flesh felt gone, even though it was trying to heal the scars would never leave; and how they gave off a foreign stench. It smelled like a mix of burnt flesh and vapors from the pus and dried blood. I covered my mouth as my stomach could no longer handle the stench or sight, and I ran to the bathroom quickly, passing Fern in the hallway looking confused by my outburst. I couldn't blame her for looking at me as she did, she wouldn't believe me even if I explained herself. Fern always managed to keep herself bright even if situations looked bleak or glum, she was the only one in this household making sure we had some form of happiness, no matter how small it was. "Oh, father, do you need anything?" She called watching him wrap his hand, "Perhaps a change of bandages?"

"Nonsense, dear. Just get tea ready."

"But, father, it'll be infected-"

"I have a very good reason to keep it wrapped up, Fern. I just don't want to explain it to you. You wouldn't understand." 

Fern became taken aback, but silently obeyed and left to the kitchen. I coughed softly and wiped off my mouth with the towel and went back to see my father. "Must you speak to her in such a way?" I say, "She's only concerned about you," he only shook his head making me feel a pent up frustration simmer and build from my feet to my head.

"Regardless; if I were to pass due to this wound I need you both to carry on the family line," he added, leaning back and slowly drank his beer, "It's the only way our family can live now."

"You're...asking me to be with Fern? But she's in her early twenties compared to I. I'm going to be thirty when she becomes twenty one, and she's my sis-"

"I want no arguments, Bastian. The horrors of this world have not died since the plague-!" 

I sighed. 

It was different back then for those in this century, marriages had a different meaning at times too. It was not uncommon for family lines to arrange weddings between siblings or cousins. It was mostly for heirs and namesake if there were no other options; Fern was being made for me. Even though this salts the tongue of many, this was our norm.
I didn't like the thought of marrying my sister, but I couldn't raise my hand against it. I only felt myself fall into even more silence with the overlapping thoughts of Fern before I remembered the horrible wound on his hand, "Father, why must you go about this alone?" He didn't answer, and the ever heaviness enveloped us both as the smell of tea lingered.

I wanted answers.

But I knew I wasn't getting them. Fern sat outside the house, hammering nails into each of the coffins of new corpses that were recently brought in from another mining accident that had happened. A landslide had collided with working miners near the road that left three dead, five wounded, and a horse with a broken leg. We were all left clueless except for my father who made a queer proclamation, "They are watching us. The Keepers of Gu'da. They are not happy with us-!" My father chuckled, hiding his face beneath his hat, "The Keepers, the Keepers...!" We all did our best to ignore my father in such a state, but it only encouraged him, leaving our mother distraught.

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These are things I wish to have on my wall or in a frame. There are a lot of things I want, but hey, it doesn't hurt to wish? :)

Would you guys like to see an intro to Bastial's new counterpart named Bastian Lowen Rathbark? 

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:iconleodanielpreda:
LeoDanielPreda Featured By Owner 2 days ago  Professional Digital Artist
Thanks for FAVE - Two Graces by LeoDanielPreda
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:iconcherlnida:
CherlnIDA Featured By Owner 2 days ago  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome. ^^
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:iconsaber360:
saber360 Featured By Owner Feb 26, 2015
Hey, Cherilyn, tell me something: have you ever watched this anime called Kill la Kill?
Reply
:iconcherlnida:
CherlnIDA Featured By Owner Feb 26, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
I haven't, I'm planning to see it out of curiosity. Been watching a walkthrough of Dangan Ronpa.
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:iconsaber360:
saber360 Featured By Owner Feb 26, 2015
well, it's really epic AND really funny.
Been watching the funimation version of it and it is KILLAH :D
no pun intended, of course ^^;
there's character named Mako who's like the anime girl equivalent of Pinkie Pie from MLP: FiM, so look her up in Google Videos under "Mako in Osaka" and click on the video link with that title and you'll see what I mean.
Let me know what you think ASAP. ^^
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:iconcherlnida:
CherlnIDA Featured By Owner Feb 26, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Ah, the last anime I watched was Shinsekai Yori. It's hard to find horror anime that catches my interest. But I love it when it mixes Japanese folklore and old Japanese tales. Oh, that reminds me I bought Stephen King's Mr.Mercedes, so now I have something to read again. ^^
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:iconsaber360:
saber360 Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2015
I know you think your family is awful, and they most likely are, but keep this in mind: they're just overabusive out of fear and perhaps misguided love for you, they are NOT criminals or child molestors - like my friend's father-figures turned out to be. Her awful stepdad is dead, her arrogant mother is already dead, and yesterday her lying, corrupt father FINALLY got arrested for all of the lies and molesting he's done for over 20 years now - he's looking at like 50 years in prison, so he'll be in there for the rest of his life.

I'm truly sorry your parents really do suck, but at least they're sane enough NOT to break the law or end up misguiding towards breaking the law. Be grateful that even though your parents are bullies and jerkwads, at least they're not criminals or complete monsters.

Sorry for saying this to you out of the blue, but I just though that maybe you should know and hear me out.

< : (
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:iconcherlnida:
CherlnIDA Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
So, I should be grateful that I suffer verbal and emotional abuse that I never asked for. That I should be happy I'm used as a scapegoat and the local punching bag? I know they're not child molesters or killers. But you don't know my pain. I thought you would understand me. But you don't. I expected better from you, seriously...

You're just like the others in my life. You look my pain just because it's not physically abusive...you still don't see it. I doubt anyone will see it. You don't think I suffer too? Each day, I wonder if it's better to disappear, how it would be better if my mom was more sane didn't use religion to be a hypocrite, my dad doesn't bat an eye when he snaps at me,  and I'm treated like a freak by my own relatives. I get called stupid, an idiot, I even got called weird and my mom mocks me and teases me over something I've done. I'm not happy here. It's hard to be. I go through verbal and emotional abuse. I'm nearly everyone's kick toy. 

But sure, I should be happy about it, right?! 
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:iconsaber360:
saber360 Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2015
Then get full-proof, well hidden evidence that your family consists of nothing but monsters and hand it over to the police already.
Either that or get off your ass make our works that people will buy raising of mind to go to Denmark and live there and be done with it.
You have every right to vent out your anger and frustrations but you're 25-year-old woman doing so on the Internet.
Take charge of your life and get it in gear, starting NOW.

No excuses, no complaints, just get it done, no matter how much of a pain in the ass it might be to you.

Say what you will, but unlike your family, I'm trying to help you out, just like like I'm sure this Chris girl of yours is.
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:iconcherlnida:
CherlnIDA Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
You make it sound so easy. You make it sound like I'm not even trying. You're no better than those in my own household. It's not easy to get money, and fuck, I wish it was that easy to send myself to Denmark to be with my girlfriend and be free. I'm taking this as I can but if you keep pressing my buttons like this I'm gonna have to block you. I have enough pain. Stop bossing me around, stop commanding me, let me do what I can. You're only making me more upset this way. 
Even though you're trying to help you're only making this worse right now. I know what I have to do but stop treating me this way. 
I'm only asking to stop adding pressure to the pot. I'm trying to endure and make due. Stop pushing me!! 
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