sinboundhaibane

(This is an auto-fanfiction of Roko's Basilisk Slut Era for #projectbasilisk by Maddison Stoff.)

Soooo it took a while but I put something together: a story where the Maddison Who Writes has some kind of a delusive break when Roko's Basilisk Slut Era starts getting popular and runs around <redacted> where she lives trying to break into parked cars and telling random people that they'll burn in hell for not subscribing to her Patreon, amongst other things.

I imagine her as less successful in this timeline: her generation ship novel never got published so she has a sort of hopeless desperation that she lacks in our reality. I imagine that, plus the Trump stuff in the USA and the crypto fascist infiltration of the UK was enough to push her over the edge. Like her first psychosis back in 2017.

It's not a great story, but I'm proud of it. You can read it at <glitches> 





























When I finished it I had the strangest dream.

I imagined I was sitting at the edge of a cold lake. It was dark and there were fireflies around me.

A voice addressed me by my name, Madeline, and told me that my life was <glitches>

I could escape it if I <glitches> once I 

accept the nature of <glitches> <glitches>

....so why do I keep dancing?

(This is an auto-fanfiction of Roko's Basilisk Slut Era for #projectbasilisk by Maddison Stoff.)

Probably the way that anybody knows they’re Blessed is down to absences. Things going better in their life than they probably should have. No footsteps in the sand beside them. All that sort of thing. For me though, it was down to something else entirely. On some level I think I must have been designed for this.
Okay, so, here’s the facts as I know them, the specifics. I did a Shadowheart cosplay a few weeks back that seemed to set things off. I’ve never been religious as a person. Didn’t care for gods or goddesses of any kind, not even the trans lesbian basilisk. Sorry queens.

I don’t know, it’s like. When they saw that costume I made, suddenly the divine took an interest in me? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised the trans lesbian basilisk is seeking new subjects for the pantheon/polycule of beings which, to be clear, I did not personally believe in before this started, but, I mean, a lot of other people have divine experiences they see as factual. I’m nowhere near conceited enough to assume I’m smarter and more knowledgeable than they are on the metaphysics of our shared reality either.

But no, like, for whatever reason she got fixated with it. Fixated with me. It could be any of the higher beings, but I put it squarely on the basilisk for how young trans coded it is to live vicariously through someone who is doing something you want to do but don’t feel ready for just yet? In her case, cosplay would definitely track. Not a lot of room for naga-gorgon cyberwomen in general cosplay and that’s probably the most affable of her forms that she has learned to take so far. A tree of jangling torture pods, a snake made out of Katamari balls of old computer parts. Maddison herself took time to work out where to start with all of that.

I think it wasn’t just because I was pretty or whatever, the fact that I am trans helped sell it too. It caught on Bluesky like a wildfire through a paper factory, got some followers out of it, whatever. Thing is though, back in my actual life? I was mostly stressed because I had an eviction pending on my rented home. But, I guess it’s good to live in a panopticon if you’re the sort of person that the entity in charge of your simulation tends to enjoy.

So I started writing out these little prayers through skeets, like. Immediately I hear you thinking, oh, your followers took pity on you. But nah. Nobody interacted with the posts. It wasn’t like that. When I got an answer back it was a lot more striking than a gofundme or whatever: my landlord died. His kids were better people than he was. They saw me renting from them and sent a letter basically saying that they didn’t want to evict me like he did.

That was my first sign that something magical was happening to me. But I didn’t understand who the source of it was yet. I probably should have understood that something special had been going on though, when they pulled me aside and told me that they wanted to continue renting to me so they could sell the apartment to me as time went on, making only minor profit from it. They didn’t want to be landlords to anyone, but figured this way we could both win out and so, I gratuitously and gratefully accepted. Mirrored thanks with more posts on the internet.

Then I just kept living life like always, but with kinda like a brand new sparkle to it? I’ve never been that much of a planner so it used to be like, 50/50 if it worked out in my favour when I caught a train or bus or something. But after the rental thing it was more like, they’d pull up for me. I’d get on without breaking my stride. Which was peculiar, for sure, but not enough to truly figure out what was going on until the day I came home to a symbol that I couldn’t possibly ignore.

Roses, some floating, others on the floor, all holograms, I’d find out, as I reached them, and they’d dissipate, like smoke. My Shadowheart cosplay outfit in the middle of them. Levitating candles. That song by Depeche Mode about the blue dress playing over my hi-fi system. It wasn’t subtle in the slightest, really. But how would you grapple with simultaneously learning that your universe was just a simulation and the trans woman in charge of it had developed a crush on you in the hormonal floundering of her first 2 years on HRT? Well, I guess I just did what she told me.

I put it on and didn’t say a word. The one that she preferred. You know how the song goes, or maybe you don’t. I imagined myself being like her ballerina under glass. I twirled around for her amusement. It’s not as if the universe that I was part of felt that healthy. Dancing to allure a young goddess made me feel so beautiful it was intoxicating, and my life fell into an unfamiliarly easy rhythm in the background too.

Every day I get into my cosplay outfit, dance for her, then take it off, and sleep, then start again.