🔒 Locke Windsor - Floor of Inhumanities
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inhumanities.bsky.social
🔒 Locke Windsor - Floor of Inhumanities
@inhumanities.bsky.social
220 followers 240 following 2K posts
"This is a floor of monsters... of second chances..."

--

PMOC RP/Parody Acc! Ran by NullNebula. Not affiliated with PM

https://inhumanities.straw.page/
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inhumanities.bsky.social
I have heard that there are... I don't know if they are Aberrations or just a similar case to the Magical Girls and the set Road Home is tied with-

...I think someone just ran onto the floor, shouted something like "ban ban" and then "zumbo saws"...

I feel like I'm being pranked...
November 3, 2025 at 2:15 PM
inhumanities.bsky.social
...You have got to be kidding me-

Hah- I read about this Abnormality... Least I still have Iori's keypage...
November 3, 2025 at 1:36 AM
inhumanities.bsky.social
The Colors of Heroes (2/2)

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Had they not fallen into the arms of the floor’s quietest member, perhaps they would’ve completely passed out or became a book once more just from the distance they fell. Down the pole fell as well, turning back into a simple baton that nearly sliced at the front of a kimono almost dyed entirely red from the rain as Grave stepped back from the falling weapon. While the cape around Locke soon vanished into a bunch of shimmering stars, it would appear the effects from whatever Locke had manifested lingered for no clouds dared to approach the lighthouse any longer. The stars themselves became a beacon of both solace and perhaps hope as they sat there, watching over everything and everyone. “...Ugh… P… Phillip? Thank… Thank you…”
November 1, 2025 at 11:39 PM
inhumanities.bsky.social
The Colors of Heroes (1/2)

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At the top of the lighthouse, the rain still poured down. Sand and oceans bleached red by the falling droplets of crimson could be seen for miles. Tree branches swayed in the violent wind, whereas others would simply snap off unable to push back against the incredible force. Green eyes look out to where the darkest clouds hung in the sky, trying to find the source of everything. While Olive had caused such vicious shifts in the floor’s weather, they were nowhere near like this in terms of the rain… Soon, Locke managed to find the source of it all. Nearly slipping off of the roof as they had to stop themselves from taking a step backwards. Between the blood dripping down off of it and their own shaking form, Locke had to quickly steady themselves. “...She’s still here? But… Did the others… Fail?” They spoke to no one but themselves, speaking their thoughts out loud. Perhaps doing so would allow them to realize that this wasn’t a nightmare. “Then, is this rain-” It was difficult to clearly see, but Locke recognized the two figures in the distance standing off against the Distortion. The streaks of cyan with the flickers of red gave it away the identity of one… As for the other, they needed no fancy colors or tricks for Locke to tell that it was their own brother. “This could’ve been prevented, you know.” That voice. They hated how sweet it sounded. How intoxicating it was. It was so warm, welcoming, but all it did was send a shiver down Locke’s spine. Had they not locked up the Abnormality cabinet properly again? They knew the voices from within, even under containment, could become invasive. The worst part was they knew, deep in their heart, the voice was correct. If Locke had access to the Abnormality pages… If they were willing to truly stand up to Olive and properly use their keypage to its highest potential… If they were any stronger… Perhaps not physically, but mentally. Perhaps then they could’ve done something proper rather than make things become far worse. “Ah, but you don’t want to become that reflection of yourself in the past again.” That horrid reflection. A horrible reflection of which Locke became a traitor and somewhat quietly lashed against the very same facility that was to blame for their unbecoming. A weapon slicing the hands that had sharpened them by allowing the same monsters they were meant to slay roam about. Perhaps not even that far back into the past, but back when the Library was at its prime. A place where the corpses of others became not just books, but stepping stones for the future of the director. When people would quite literally sign lives away, sometimes not even their own. It was because of all of this did Locke become adverse to fighting others. Enough blood stained their hands, at least they thought so. Yet, it seemed like the world was pushing for them to become violent more and more… Citing it was necessary for survival, for conflict will and always be unavoidable. Either Locke would remain a coward and lock themselves up in the Library, refusing freedom even if it finally arrived for they were fated to always be a spineless coward… Or, they’d become part of the endless cycle of violence in the City with dried blood between their nails and nothing but a soon forgotten name and a rotten heap of meat that will be cleansed by the Sweepers soon enough. “What will you do, then? Which part of your past will you relive?” Locke could hear the voices of those they once knew. The voice of a Disciplinary Captain who held nothing but ire in his eyes, citing Locke to be nothing more than a waste of space. Murmurs of assistant librarians who claimed Locke had no right breathing once again for their actions in the past. It felt like truly the past was coming back, once again. They had a choice. Either to rejoin the fight once more and be nothing more than an obstacle with a weak heart not strong enough to lay waste upon their foe… Or to run away, turning a blind eye to the suffering of not just Cheshyre and Kenneth, but Olive as well to an extent. They could feel their face, their body becoming glass. Locke’s movements became slow, as if afraid of shattering their body. The amount of pressure was dizzying. Guilt wanted to bubble over. It caused Locke to falter, almost sliding off of the roof entirely. “The form you’ll take to deal with this ordeal… How strong will it be? How weak will it be?” Yet- They remembered the moments that truly did matter. Their superior in the Safety Team, a man who helped Locke find their footing alongside Alice. Relief that while the main branch’s Disciplinary Captain spooked Locke, she was far much more competent at her job and far more inspiring than the last one Locke had dealt with. The kind smile Kenneth wore when he got to see Locke was still alive even after all of these years. Joy shared between Locke and their old friends when they finally were able to be reunited… If they just hid away in the Library, such warmth couldn’t reach them… If they allow their heart to become cold, then they lose their way entirely… Down their baton would slam, right into the roof of the lighthouse. Light would kick up, as if a match was lit. Groaning, Locke heaved their body back up, hands gripping now what seemed to be a flagpole. Blood trickled down their face, yet it soon vanished with a wave of light. “...I am not a weapon. Those terms… I won’t let them define me. I have to keep going. If not for myself… For those that believe in me, both back then and now. Being in Disciplinary and Safety has taught me one thing… Be there for those that need it. To protect as many people as you can.” Red. The color of heroes. Green. The color of peace. It felt… Incomplete, yet even so… The same lights that once danced in the skies of the Inhumanities floor swathed themselves around Locke like a cape. “Even if my voice can’t reach them… Even if this is all just in vain…!” They called out, gripping the flagpole tighter even in the pouring rain. “Stars still shine, bright in the sky… Even with clouds as horrible as these… I’ll make them see-!” Locke would pull out the pole before slamming it back down. Then… There was light. An almost blinding light. The clouds above the lighthouse gave way to two bright, shimmering stars in the sky. One green and another red. While it did not end the rain on the floor, the sky above the lighthouse no longer was plagued by blood raining down forth. Instead, a night sky full of shimmering lights blessed the building and its surroundings. Perhaps it was the surrounding rain or the dark of the night, but the stars seemed to shine even brighter than it had prior to the floor’s changes. Locke looked upward at the stars, trying to reach out to them. Fatigue seemed to finally catch up, or perhaps their footing finally gave way, however. Soon the Librarian felt themselves fall off of the roof, falling back down to the ground.
November 1, 2025 at 11:39 PM
inhumanities.bsky.social
...Hah- somehow it resonates with me. I like this song.
September 28, 2025 at 10:14 PM
inhumanities.bsky.social
...I-I'm sorry but, I've... Had enough of troupes and... circuses for that matter...

Eugh, if I think about it, I can hear the screeching of those monkeys again...
September 26, 2025 at 1:28 PM
inhumanities.bsky.social
I... I heard you the first time-!

Augh... Keep it down...
September 22, 2025 at 11:49 PM
inhumanities.bsky.social
🌸...Well this certainly is unexpected.

Can't say I enjoy these new surroundings... Locke, are you at the lighthouse?
September 21, 2025 at 5:36 PM
inhumanities.bsky.social
...Aren't you-

...The heck is the League of Nine...?
September 10, 2025 at 3:25 PM
inhumanities.bsky.social
...Really?

Really?
September 9, 2025 at 1:33 PM
inhumanities.bsky.social
Just woke up, sorry... Just give me a minute and I'll be outside my office...

I slept too long, dammit... Uh... Are doodles supposed to glow green, by the way...?

@catalystarbiter.bsky.social @judgmentbird.bsky.social
September 5, 2025 at 8:01 PM
inhumanities.bsky.social
🔏

...❓️
🔒🚫🛒🦐❌️
🔒🟰🦐
...
🦐🟰😋...
🍴❗️
September 5, 2025 at 3:06 PM
inhumanities.bsky.social
Musings of a Book

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The world within our books perhaps could be compared to that of the Abnormalities’. Inside these spaces we can create what our hearts desire most. A world that is ours to control. What we need and want is brought forth by the Light itself. We could have lush forests, endless skies, or even the quiet ocean surrounding our bodies. Time is turned back on our wounds, sewn up shut as if nothing bad ever happened. Limbs rejoin our body and reconnect to vital systems. Like a needle and thread, skin is applied back on to muscle and bone. While this all sounds and feels like heaven to those unaccustomed to it all… This has become my damnable hell. It is here that I stand surrounded by memories of the past, strung in the sky like lights. At first, they were like static screens with hardly any feedback, but the more I remembered then the more color everything gained. I can see the smiles of those I once befriended and glares of those who have written me as the enemy in their story. It is only in this space that I can clearly see a showcase of my past life as an agent. Once I awaken from this slumber will I possibly forget it all once more, as if I never was here… Jolting me from these foul thoughts, phantom pain spreads across my wrists, shooting up into my arms. The most excruciating discomfort I have, however, seems to come entirely from the front of my head. I know at this point now that this is only temporary. Eventually I’ll walk around the floor once more. That all of this was a bad dream. …I wish that was the case. I walk onwards in the empty space that comprises my book. Ignoring the memories playing like TVs, unable to look at those smiling faces. Those that believed in me, giving me kind smiles and words I had once believed I had not deserved. Those that caused me to fall… Red petals seemed to become engulfed in black tar as I received flashbacks to both of those instances… I clutch my throat and my chest, worried that I too will drown once more- … …I have to keep going. If not for myself, then for them. For the ones forgotten by time itself, for the ones dyed in colors that swear to protect, for everyone that I promised a better ending for. I once heard a rumor that the stars are born from instability before they are hung up in the sky, bringing light to even the darkest of nights. Even if the moon is absent and not a single voice is around… The stars still shine. They still guide. Even now, I seek out the path dotted by light rather than puddles of blood… To become a bright star, bright enough to help everyone home…
August 30, 2025 at 9:48 PM
inhumanities.bsky.social
📁...I am even less inclined to bring Locke back if it means they don't have to put up with this.
August 28, 2025 at 11:01 PM
inhumanities.bsky.social
Those Who Promised

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File stood by the lighthouse, hesitating and trembling as their fingers tapped away. It had been a few days at this point, but even they could not force the code to work in their favor. While File themselves knew the outcome, it didn’t mean that the Abnormality could speed up to that point nor could they not partake in the wonderful feeling that was sheer fear. While this human form certainly had its perks, the emotions that they’ve felt weren't one of them. Anger, rage, fear… lately it seemed like all of these things clouded File Not Found’s mind. The floating screens all shook as File smacked a fist against one, staring at it in frustration. Their other hand went up and held their face. Robotic senses and human ones kept trying to overwrite each other. Upon noticing one popup appear, File sighed and closed out all of the windows before holding up three fingers. 3… 2… 1… Approaching the Abnormality was a familiar figure dressed almost entirely in brown. The chains around his waist announced his arrival as footsteps became silent against the grainy sand. “Yo. File.” “...Greetings, Kenneth Windsor.” File turned around, taking note of the floor’s current visitor. “I apologize for having you arrive while you are busy performing other duties, but… Your presence is much needed.” The color folded his arms. “When Locke said they wanted to show me a beach… This isn’t what I had in mind… Where are they?” File flinched and looked up at the lighthouse. “Locke is currently unavailable for talking. Circumstances here… They’ve been booked.” Kenneth grew silent. “...They can be revived though, right?” “Affirmative. However, I cannot perform such a thing. I am only an assistant librarian in title rather than form.” File shook their head. “As of right now, I have the floor on lockdown.” “Pretty damn lucky I have this damn device set up for here…” Kenneth’s gaze went up towards the office, frowning. “...Thought it took folk here not that long to revive?” File sighed. “Due to the state this place is in… And this floor in general… While I would be able to revert the changes and normally Locke would be back by now… I cannot afford to allow the one that’s responsible to escape.” “...Olive, right?” “That was the human name the Distortion had, yes.” “Same one you want me to go after.” “Correct.” Kenneth closed his eyes. “...Even if it's not a request from you… Anyone that lays a hand on my sibling, distortion or not… I’ll gladly give them the same hell they dealt 10 times over.” “Kenneth-” “I know, I know…” The fixer reached up and moved his goggles down. “So, just search and destroy, right?” The abnormality before him nodded. “I’m having a bit of difficulty pinpointing the location… In this human form of mine, I’m a bit limited in what I can do. While I’d be able to help far more in my true state, it is currently not ideal. I could, however, sacrifice the light that’s keeping this form of mine stable and revive Locke.” “...You do that, they’re really going to do something rash.” Kenneth scoffed. “Locke’s far more dangerous than I am in that regard.” “I am aware.” Kenneth then grabbed a hold of the white piece of cloth wrapped around his arm, pulling out his iconic key. White mist swirled around the key for just a brief moment before dissipating. “Here I thought my days of suppressing an annoying ass disciplinary team captain were behind me…” A dry chuckle escaped from Kenneth as he looked down at his own reflection shimmering upon the key. He gave a slight salute as he started off, dragging his key against the sand. More wisps of white damage seemed to kick up as the key’s pin and bit was slithered through the sand. “Make sure that other distortion doesn’t hurt Locke either, yeah?” “They’ll be fine.” Locke has to be. After all… File and Kenneth promised.
August 28, 2025 at 12:22 AM
inhumanities.bsky.social
🔏

💣⁉️
...🤔🐦‍🔥❓
🚫🐦‍🔥❗🐦‍🔥🟰📙❗
❓
...❗
August 27, 2025 at 1:19 AM
inhumanities.bsky.social
📁...I saw this coming, and yet even I feel annoyance...

Fine. I'll use this as a means to practice. I cannot allow myself to become idle with victory even if I know the outcome.

Do pardon me, but the code requests this to be destroyed by my hands.
August 27, 2025 at 12:41 AM
inhumanities.bsky.social
📁...If this small creature does not cease pecking at my patron's book, I shall render it dust entirely.
August 26, 2025 at 12:05 PM
inhumanities.bsky.social
🔏

⚫❓ 😟💦
August 24, 2025 at 11:50 PM
inhumanities.bsky.social
📁...It can't be this easily-

Grave, Doodlocke, stay where you are if you see this. I'm placing this floor on temporary shutdown.
August 24, 2025 at 12:30 AM
inhumanities.bsky.social
📁 ...I will speak on behalf of this floor. Seeing it's... current, staggered state.

Everyone here, upon this floor, are sinners by your definition.

The slothful sheep who hungers for dreams, the prideful phoenix robbed of sight and glory...
August 23, 2025 at 6:53 PM
inhumanities.bsky.social
📁...It was foolish of me to perhaps try opposing fate. Even the steps I took...

It's alright. I know the outcome. We just have to suffer until then.

I can do this, at least.
August 23, 2025 at 1:46 PM
inhumanities.bsky.social
Out of Sight

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The sound of a window closing was the sole sound in the lighthouse other than the raging wind and distant gunfire. Walking around, the gift from Catalyst was shutting any and all windows they came across to prevent anything from falling into the shifted office… And more importantly, to avoid any sort of unwanted attention. After finishing up, they turned back to the desk and sat back down. The doodle’s tiny legs swung up and down as they turned the chair. Before going on to resume their duties, however, they then turned to their sole guest- Philip. In his hands was Locke’s tablet, the current means for him to communicate. “Are you sure it’s safer for us to remain here?” There’s a small nod from the doodle as they pointed towards the windows. “I don’t understand why they’re all even trying…” The doodle variant of Locke hummed before pointing at Philip. He gave a confused look until Doodle Locke twirled their finger around and made a motion of a book opening and closing. “You’re not insinuating that I’m similar, do you…” The response? A simple nod. The Distortion sighed as he sat on the bed, being mindful of the various plushies that had fallen over. In a way, they weren’t wrong. How many times now has he entered this place? How many times has he come and watched those around him fall. Now Locke and those perhaps idiotic enough to make an attempt on the floor’s unwelcome visitor’s life as revenge… It made him think… If he had been the one to fall, would Yuna and Salvador have been the ones to step in as well? Would they have come back to the Library with backup? Especially since they were the ones telling him to fall back. Had his book had any value in salvaging? Then again… There’s part of the problem out there, doing perhaps something equally or even more insane than he had done. There were literal monsters willing to fight for Locke’s sake. There were those here that wanted to live as much as he and the others did. Others, that decided one person’s life was worth cutting down for their own to step forward. “...Why are they even like this?” The doodle sat for a moment, thinking before linking their pinkies together and pulling out one of the keys on Locke’s desk. “A promise. With that Color.” Another nod. They then pointed to where Locke had placed their old Safety Team armband. Tattered, torn… But, it was obvious Locke was making attempts to repair it. Upon seeing Philip’s confused face… They then puffed out three of their fingers on the sides of their cheeks and hooked their pointer fingers on their head to resemble ears. After the Distortion still just stared onwards, the living drawing sighed and pulled up a photo on Locke’s computer. “The Cyan Grin?” Another nod. “How many Colors does Locke even know?” This time, a shrug. Even more confusion seemed to swallow Philip whole. Back to his own thoughts that still consumed him. He still felt hollow, but it felt like lately question after question paraded around in his mind. Usually he’s able to dismiss these emotions just fine, turning them back into the blank static they now took form ever since he distorted. There was no reason to feel these emotions if it meant he would crumble at the hands of them once again… …Yet- It was annoying. He laid back down on the bed, holding a hand to his head. He looked over at the drawing, who tilted their head with their hands as if going to sleep. He didn’t want to… Not with everything going on, but… …It has been exhausting lately. Emotionally, at least.
August 21, 2025 at 1:55 AM
inhumanities.bsky.social
Relapse and Revert

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The storm wasn’t getting any better, yet File transverse across the floor in search of where their fellow Abnormalities were located. Was this another task given by the code itself or perhaps an attempt to intervene before something even worse could befall the floor? Even File didn’t know. They just knew one thing- They had to do something. Purposely turning a blind eye to the code in fear of what might be witnessed… No- why would a machine be afraid of such a thing? They were meant to be unfeeling, just- Each time these thoughts came across File’s mind, they could feel their body deteriorate back into what it was meant to be. Tendons becoming wires and back again, a pain no person alive could comprehend. Cursing at themselves, they soon looked up- “...You’ve relapsed, T-02-99.” Before them was not the same figure donning the familiar purple kimono with golden eyes staring at them, but the monster that Void Dream truly was. A roster head simply glared down at File Not Found, soon bending to meet their eye height. “A dream is ending. A nightmare is beginning.” Void Dream spoke. “Do you not hear it, machine? Or are visions of electric sheep clouding your vision?” “This is not the time or the place.” File sighed. “Must you force my hand? No matter… I need to bring your book to Locke anyways.” They flicked their wrist, beckoning forth the same glowing blue blades. “You must be suppressed… Engaging combat protocol-” There’s a sneer from the Abnormality. “I am more lucid than ever, File. I need to keep Locke around- I need to eat their dreams… They’re going to become sour again soon. The nightmare must be stopped so that I may indulge once more-!” It was bound to happen. There was too much stress on the floor. It was perhaps a miracle that File had not corroded back into just a computer once more. It was then that File realized that the sole ALEPH on the floor was not around. “Where is-” A gunshot. It flew past File’s head and hit Void Dream dead center of her head. White smoke dispersed, joined by black barbs trying to pierce the hostile Abnormality. “...I see. Your coordinates were horrifying close, but-” File turned around to face Army- Half of his face was discolored, a tired expression was on it. “I did not expect you to not be reverted.” “We… No- I need to protect Locke-!” Army hissed. He clenched his head, looking somewhat pained. “File… I thought you said… The floor’s on energy saving mode or… Whatever… What exactly is going on-?!” File frowned. “...I’ll explain later, sorry. We have to take care of Void before she gets out of hand.” “...Is this why Firebird won’t talk to you right now…?” “It’s not.” File sighed. “...I can explain that later. Just please… Help me suppress T-02-99.” “Roger…” “It’s unwise to say your plans in front of the enemy…” “And it’s not smart to stay still like that either.” A blade rammed itself into Void Dream’s side, the Abnormality making a horrendous noise upon impact. On both sides of the floor… It would seem there was no peace to be found.
August 16, 2025 at 11:55 PM
inhumanities.bsky.social
...

This-

This isn't good... Where is everyone...
August 15, 2025 at 1:42 PM