Jay Wayward

@ricochetrita.bsky.social

631 Followers 248 Following

Vocalist for sludge metal band Cursed Body. Sometimes writer. Bisexual. He/Him We can still save the planet and each other. 🏴🌱 “The Dreaming Dead”, a queer sword and sorcery novel, available at most online stores.

A hairless cat in a colorful shirt looking mad
A screen cap of Pokemon emerald. An old man is saying “something’s happening and I don’t like it!”
A hairless cat sitting on a couch with a blanket covering most of her back
The cover for Sade’s Love Deluxe, largely a white background with a picture of Sade on the right.
A black shirt that says “no sympathy for transphobes”
A microphone but like it’s kind of flat
Unfortunately Sister had not become a conversationalist in the 8 minutes or so since I’d last seen her. I found her engrossed in a book, the cat curled up in her lap already. “What are you reading?” “A book.” She replied, not bothering to take her eyes from the page. I leaned over to look at the cover. The title read Romantic Poems of the Luzian Era. “Wouldn’t have taken you for a poetry lover.” “Fine.” Her voice was flat and tone terse.
A comic book panel. Someone is asking Callisto when she’ll put aside her hatred and distrust. Callisto, in the top left of the panel, replies “about ten minutes after I die”
A man in dark clothes holding a hairless cat
In the foreground is a man in black clothes facing to the left and screaming into a mic. Behind him is a drummer with the kit partially visible and drummer mostly obscured. In the background is a brick wall with a banner and some stage lights near the top.
After eating, they kicked out the fire and began to walk. Xu picked up the remnants of an old hunting trail in no time, wilting weeds slumped over the sides of it, dying in the faint sun like fish gasping for breath just outside of the ocean’s reach. Something about it pricked at Dorotia’s heart. No telling if it was the lack of sleep, her head injury, or years of stress finally rebounding back at her, but she felt a sudden and aching kinship with the life scattered along that trail. It was cruel of the universe to put them in the sun and yet not give enough to live. For a moment all of this horrible world was Dorotia and she was one with each intolerable piece of it.
“I can be drunk and correct, Dosia. My point is this: dogs are not good, wolves are not bad. Our perception creates these feelings. Sure, a wolf may occasionally harm a human, but so does a dog. The real difference is that where wolves have their own societies and rules, dogs have adopted ours. We perceive dogs as good because they are servile to us. Wolves, by contrast, can never be. What do you think?” “I think drunk people should avoid philosophy.” Dorotia replied, hoping it would shame her mentor into closing that line of discussion. “You’re obsessed with bringing that up, as if a little bit of drink makes a difference. And you, despite being the smartest novice in decades, and sober, seem tragically committed to becoming somebody’s dog.” Dorotia clenched her fists. Her voice was nearly a growl. “I wish you wouldn’t talk like that. At least around me. If you want to ruin your own life I won’t stop you, but you know what mere allegations of disloyalty did to my family."
A hairless cat resting on a red blanket.
Dorotia nodded in agreement. “This is a beautiful house.” The old man smiled with genuine excitement, a sudden twinkle in his eyes that didn’t exist a moment before. “Do you think so? My husband Olavi built it nearly 50 years go. He’s gone now but I try to take as good care of it as I can. Some days are harder than others. He was so talented.” “You’ll see him again, one day. He’ll be proud to know you took care of it.” Xu replied, placing a hand on the other man’s shoulder in an uncharacteristically intimate show of support. “Ah, y-yes. I suppose so. Thank you, young man.” The old man blinked back mist, but couldn’t hide the suggestion of a waver in his deep voice.
Chapter 1 – The Litany “Any able student of history now knows Cursed Dosia. While time softens all blows, her legacy is hard to ignore. During the Hypogean War she led a group of mystics calling themselves her apostles in a campaign of terror against her own home country of Sfera. Her role in the shattering of the holy shell, a rare relic of Erthe’s golden age, sent her from her homeland despised and reviled by it’s people. But shockingly, before all of that, she was known as an exceptionally bright student at The House of Goetia and expected to do quite well once she graduated.” – Eda Blue-World, Histories of Violence
A cat laying on its back in the couch, as if depressed
A hairless cat resting on the lap of a man with dark clothes and hair. In the bottom right is part of a pillow.
A cat hanging out amongst a bunch of of plants
A drawing of a blond, spikey-haired boy looking mad. He is glancing behind him as if the source of his frustration is where he just came from.
An electrical box and metal pole outside, covered in stickers.
A game boy style screen. The game shows a blue haired man sitting in bed as a blonde woman speaks. The dialogue box confirms her name is Eleanor and she is saying “it was a long time ago “
A hairless cat sitting in the lap of a man wearing black. The man has an arm wrapped around the cat.
An adult duck (center towards to top and left) watching several baby ducks (scattered around the center). They are all in the grass but close to dark water (at the bottom)
A low res image of a gundam in space. Near the top of the image is a solar eclipse. Text at the top reads “sludge unit cursed body”. Text at the bottom reads “subterranean death culture”
A robot standing above a crowd of other robots preaching about saving the turtles by reducing pollution.
Two printed photos showing a group of people in front of a white van
A man with medium length hair and facial hair singing into a mic. He is illuminated by red light.
Close up of a man with medium length hair singing into a mic from close to a side view
A bead bracelet, mostly purple. The letters read “CB” (cursed body), “SDC” (subterranean death culture), and “J” (that’s my name).
A hairless cat sleeping
Lyrics on paper written with pen. They read: “One day all must die Above below and in between One day all must die Be whatever it is You wish to be Swallow the Amber Sever the chain In the eyes of the lord All life is servile and born to obey”
Barely in frame on the left is a hand holding a pink vinyl record. Below is the album cover featuring a large, shadowy figure with a yellow sky behind (record is Monnos by Conan). It sits on a wooden cabinet.
On the left: a man in a helmet, , mask, and googles, and denim vest with studs. On the right: a man in a black t-shirt featuring a nun doing coke off a Bible
Text reading "If you haven’t had to stumble through a blinding snow storm, only barely recovered from hypothermia, and wearing a fresh new head-wound I wouldn’t recommend it. Was I still impossibly handsome and extremely brave? No, of course not. I looked like a corpse and I was a slight shock away from abandoning everyone else to die."
Old paper with the text : “These are The Wilds of Brumaire. Realizing they are lost, they set off to find their way back home. Brumaire is meant to be played over just a few sessions and end with PCs either finding a way home, losing their will to go on and dissapearing into Brumaire, or dying. Settlements in Brumaire can be radically strange and different from one another, but some things are consistent. - A war has recently ended. - Almost nobody in Brumaire seems aware of what any other settlement is up to, or of any land outside of Brumaire. - Inhabitants don't really understand the concept of leaving Brumaire and will often not know, not understand, or deflect direct questions about leaving. - Something hunts people who travel through The Wilds of Brumaire. -Brumaire is filled with inhabitants of many different species, sexualities, races, genders, and abilities. All settlements accomidate for that, and animosity based on those things does not exist.”
Beast saying “we’ve all done unfortunate, somewhat unforgivable things.”
A hairless cat resting on someone’s lap, partially under a blanket, with her head on their stomach.
A picture of the crowd at Slumpfest. It took place in a skatepark under the interstate.
An image of a an eclipse of purple light. In the foreground are the words “cursed body”
A sculpture of a croissant placed among some gravel. Near the top is a tree trunk and to the left is a stone bench. The sculpture kind of looks like baby Mothra.
A bunch of rudimentary structures made out of cardboard, all on a tile floor. Near the center are pet rats dashing around them.